Noor Khamis/IRIN
By
Habib Akewusola
Poli-tricks in Africa
I will strangulate malaria
Within four weeks,
Every corrupt king must
Become a convict,
The general hospitals would
Be equipped with club kits,
Education will automatically
Become free.
Rhythm of the motionless
Spitting impossible deeds
With a mind set of
‘No regrets’
Africa,
My destiny has become artificial,
Pretty ones are sick
Ugly took over as famous
Officials.
Convoy of infinity wagon
Exaggerated gown crowned with
A diamond bangle,
Hair coiled with shampoo,
Leather shoes, of the best cattle,
Scent transported from Arabian
Temple.
You preach of a sparkling afternoon
Brighter than this candle,
Steady carbohydrate recently
Restructured my statue,
How do I believe you?
Consistent lies has destroyed
Your truth.
Fellow masses am speaking to you
With my vote let all critically choose.
Corn Tree
(by Habib Akewusola and Habeeb Whyte)
Framing riot,
Impunity on display
Well dressed scarecrow or idols.
Nothing changes
Just faces on currency
Just smiles on fiction
Forced unity,
Forced livelihood amidst agony
Germination of multiple fertile seeds
On a soil I never own nor farm on.
He breathes, for free,
Who’s fighting for we?
Albeit, we gave him freedom
Institute of korrupt
By force avenging a curse,
Lick my feet!
The uncommanded commander beckons,
My brother, endure, or you comot, shikena..
Media doesn’t sleep.
As korrupt fights back,
Tricks, venue a battle field,
Casualty are her avid readers
Dead is a believer.
Hope is buried.
So did my corn tree,
Never sight shores of a fertile island
She never grew to glory
The farming masters deemed so….
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