the politics of war

there was a time
when he drove a jeep in town
he was all smiles
as he went miles
ensuring the distribution of arms and munition
to be used without caution

little did he dream
that one day would come a freedom train
in which he would take a ride
and would be asked
about the thousands who were axed
by his drugged men—
young and old—executing his command

from pujahun to konun
they dug diamonds from every corner
to pursue their “liberation” –
“liberation” in and according to their own definition

he stirred and jammed the airwaves
as he spoke of his men’s apparent madness
which he justified as bravery
as they went pillaging the country
giving people “long sleeves” and “short sleeves”
on their arms and legs

but this hour in this court
a man goes through reflection of a sort
for his deeds of mischief –
mischief that made many deceased or predeceased
and an innocent baby armless
when he and his men had their figment of happiness

but today has arrived his time
here in this dock, on this ground
in a town called freetown
a man has lost his weighty pound
shedding off the fleshy and becoming frail
as the train travels the justice trail

so if freetown is surely a free town
then this man must showily and surely wear his just crown
a crown that he must tote
whether on his head or foot
         — 010/17/02, university of liberia



 

my own

the preacher was well attired
in a vocation that glowed like chlorox.
he looked at the mourners
whose ears were fixed sharpeners.

for the mourners had come,
jammed in this dome,
to attend my own –
my own homegoing.

i was stiff necked: watching closely
as the people wailed loudly.
then the preacher/eulogizer kerchiefed himself,
as though he had stayed long on a shelf.

when “What a Friend in Jesus” was upped,
the wailing, perhaps howling, went atop.
but when the song had downed
and the yelling drowned,
then said the preacher/eulogizer: “let’s pray.”

after awhile,
the congregants were unified:
and in unison they replied, “amen!”
as a sign of their covenant.

“here lies s.k.d. - a man of deeds,
follow him! Complete his feats!”

then the preacher/eulogizer was interrupted
with shouts of a people who seem uninterrupted
in expressing their feelings—
perhaps real or crowd followed feelings:
“wow!” “oh yah!” “enhen!” “ayah!”—
words that could not bring me back.

“physically, we’ll see him no more,
no more will he physically be with the poor
whom he espoused in his writings;
truly he brought us good tidings.”

again, the sobbing electrified
as if the building had collapsed,
when a favourable tune of mine was sung.
my children yelled and hummed;
my loved ones fainted and sank
as if ready to join me
in a place from where none has returneth
except the one on the road to emmaus.

“we’ll no more hear his physical words.
we’ll only picture his words
which will bring echoes of remembrance
to remind us of his many cautions
embedded in his writings,
writings that today give us hope.”

then the preacher/eulogizer paused,
and like the full village stream
whose flowing clicks in our ears,
my real words suddenly echoed:
pounding the ears of my many pauls
who now glorified me – their gamaleya
a short, seemingly annoying character
who once crutched this earth,

loved by most and disloved by some.

but here at my one man’s residence,
built in this rustic setting,
just as the preacher was saying:
“from dust to dust . . . ”
my mourners tried reflecting
whether i had lived my life
like lady diana,
who, chasing daodi,
burst/splattered into pieces
like a candle in the wind.

truly, i lived fairly a decent life
when i walked this dog-eat-dog world.
i went imparting and impacting knowledge;
then chronicling my country’s history
into pages that’ve become memorabilia
to be read a thousand years from now.
         — 012/25/98, ganta, nimba county  

push further

each person has a difficult ferment
when there seems to be no upward movement

the brain is raided with discouragement
lives in the past of torment

nothing seems to come straight
not even one’s faith
you find yourself unfit
to discern what is fake

you live a threshold of desperation
hoping to end this high emotion
a seemingly vicious cycle
that needs a strong miracle

but despair not
think outright
to bring yourself together
so that you will push further
         — 02/8/02, paynesville

the new civilization

they came in ships
many, many years ago
from far away lands
they came with:
new names
new ideas
new plans
new clothes

that was their return
to the land of their forefathers
from whence they were sold
with thousands going in chains

they came in ships
many, many years ago
from far, faraway lands:
from the indies and
from the united states
from whence they were enslaved
working the gardens
tilling the fields
breaking the rocks
watching the masters
drying the grasses
cutting the cane
raising the babies

they came in ships
from lands millions of miles away
settling on this green pepper coast –
from southwestern to southeastern

they came anew
new:
in thoughts
in names
in plans
in attire
in all things

they came anew
with a new civilization
many, many years ago
         — 07/25/88, gardnersville