RECITE!!!

BOW LEGGED BLUES
The bow legged blues men
They samba  and rumba
The days away
Laughing and living..
(Life is play)

Bow legged blues
I wist I knew you earlier
I should have now been wiser

Bow legged blues
confounding and disturbing
our settled ways
Yet exhilarating and liberating
the spirits in my soul

I watch them bask
in their bow legged ecstasy
and walk in be-bopping lop-sided gait

their charm and transparent harmony
turns the sugar in my mouth to ashes...
...and I long for the bow legged blues....

(If I had crossed this bridge much earlier
I should have now been wiser, much wiser)
Dec. 1986
 

JESUS AND THE TUXEDO            

With both hand in his pocket,
He said with understanding:
fleeting sorrow upon his face,
followed by joy that none could faze
and in gentleness he wailed
calling in four syllables
(A name I knew had two)

He spoke of a smiling happy Jesus
He spoke of a Jesus
in a Tuxedo
Waiting on you
waiting on me
In gentleness he hummed
Jee-ee-ee-sus

I have a lovely thing he said
(his hands deep in his pocket
on his face a spreading smile)
I got lost in my prime
My vanity had honed  to
fine point an ego
and reality was sent on holidays
and
my ego In its wickedness
did my naturalness erode
quite truly I learnt
how worthless life could be
but
always was he there for me
That's the reason
I sing and call
in four syllables
(A name I know has two)

KINDERGARTEN The lies I lived,
The dreams I dreamt
were full of air
and zero substance

Back to kindergarten I went
to aim anew at the horizon

Time and tide wait for none
so why should I - my own life mourn?

BIG POCKETS
I had a dream the other night
I craved to know its end
What became of big pockets
who wanted not to share
The land was rich for every one
why garner Gods gifts with laws
The brothers had stated
with solemn resolve
and this I believe
was a cry to be loved
We'll not enter next century
We'd die than cross
with no dignity
Their long awaited spine
I justly will opine
was good news for Old Kwame
wrapped in heavens lame
The brothers at last
had grown a spine
and braced against the blast
First things first
They learnt at last
Their cross was theirs to move
the comrades decided
and acted in concert
"we'll not cross next century
we'd die than cross with no dignity"
Phase one was planned
in comic detail
"we'll hide away from them
We've been hurt
for far too bloody long
and we must let them know
No blacks were seen upon the streets
of swinging I'goli
with nothing to absorb
their waves of hate,
Their hate returned to them
(and their folly was
there for all to see).

Big pockets sauntered to the cities of night
which serviced the cities of light
"all right my fellows lets talk like men
lets talk over these things
there’s time and tide for everything

its our turn to be white!
Phase two was planned
in solemn details
"we'll not buy nothing new
we'll starve
the markets of our funds
and starve ourselves of food
Those bloody fools have got to know
their turn will surely come some day
we've been hurt
for far too bloody long
How long shall this bloody song play!
And so the brothers went hungry
In search of peace and dignity
time for them lengthened its breadth
Big pockets again turned stones to bread
"all right my fellows
Big pockets said
Lets talk as men (over these things)
These laws I met when I was born
Be glad to have strong neighbours as I"
And Time it was for the final duel
The brothers shook with anger and rage
"The land is rich for everyone
This land belongs to us"
They took a stance of little romance
Though some may this dispute
Its theme was death on a Jumbo scale
But that was when I woke
They'd solemnly resolved
with death on their minds
to rid the earth of their presence and love
What became
of the sad eyed brothers
What became
of their dignity
With the tide and history
on their side
Their turn I know
will come some day
c. 1985
 

our shame,
we succumb
to the lesser man
mediocrity ruled
and Truth died
stupidity was entrenched
and we lost our lustre

To our shame
we shelved our beautiful name.

True it was that in the warmth
of homes embrace
surrounded by kith and kin,
lofty words and their motions
swayed our hearts and
intoxicated our realities

But always was it too cold outside
and In Lagos and her sisters -
you would be a fool
and your ideals
your identifying cap....

So to cover our shame
we succumbed
(with the hypocrites)
and mediocrity
became our Fathers name...

But scattered though scant
especially at nights of unimportance
'the fools' in their caps
(made ugly as gnomes)
could be found in the back alleys
of our forgotten slums...
stripped of their dignity
regaled for their honesty

they mused without mirth
at the country of their birth
"We lof our Contree we no go lie"

but old country was
deep in sloths throes and sleep

Twas one October afternoon
The gnomes had a full bright moon (I saw it!)
twas before evening - well before seven
when Wole Soyinka was shot into heaven
Thank you Kongi