'kraal' poems - Hello Poetry

Terry O'Leary Mar 2016

The typewriters tap,
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
like a fourth estate rap
to provide us the pap
(that serves as a snack with a rat-a-tat-tat)
in a newspaper scrap
crammed with meaningless crap
from the editor's yap
(spewing flimflamy flak, booming rat-a-tat-tat)
after gashing a gap
in the daily recap
with a snip in a snap-
sounding thundery clap
crackng rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

And the talking heads speak
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
of the news of the week,
tweaking tongue in the cheek
(with a click and a clack like a rat-a-tat-tat),
thus ignoring critique
'cause they're mild and too meek
in the midst of the reek
to report of the wrack (except rat-a-tat-tat)
whilst the pundits (oblique
when protecting the chic
of the upper class clique
at the top of the peak)
chatter rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

The NRA ghouls
plug a rat-a-tat-tat
while their blood money tools
fill the Hill’s vestibules
(where deceit behind drapes drips a rat-a-tat-tat),
spreading folly that fuels
frenzied hands of young fools
bringing guns into schools
(at the drop of a hat there's a rat-a-tat-tat
splashing blood in warm pools)
for now anarchy rules
(which the hype ridicules
'til the temperature cools)
hailing rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

Lawless cops, cutting loose
with a rat-a-tat-tat
spraying bullets profuse
without any excuse
(just a split second splat with a rat-a-tat-tat),
splay a rattled recluse
like a Thanksgiving goose
gushing cranberry juice
from six slugs in the back (with a rat-a-tat-tat).
To redress such abuse,
bend the branch of a spruce
with a neck in a noose
while Death's drums beat diffuse’
rolling rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

War brings freedom to all
with a rat-a-tat-tat
(well, excluding the thrall
with fear, facing the wall
[ often smacked with a bat, throbbing rat-a-tat-tat ],
until feeling the call
to creep out of the kraal
biting back with a gall
[ with a *** for a tat and a rat-a-tat-tat ],
or to mangle and maul
if still able to crawl
and be part of the brawl
in a freak free-for-all,
midst a rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat).

Holy warmongers praise,
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
any soldier that slays
and all rockets that raze
(the drones zoom with a vroom and a rat-a-tat-tat)
leaving smoky arrays
of gray ghosts in the haze
cloaking mute cabarets
(hushed, the hip and the hop, by the rat-a-tat-tat)
while ol’ Cerberus bays
with mankind in his gaze,
so society prays
as it rots and decays
(Satan's trumpets of doom blare a rat-a-tat-tat)
until one of these days
in a flash through the maze
mighty mushrooms will blaze
with invisible  rays,
fin’lly braising the craze
of the rat-a-tat-tat,
   and the
            rat-
                 a-
                    tat-
                          tat.

Salmabanu Hatim Apr 2018

Maasai Way Of Life

Salmabanu Hatim Apr 2018

Maasai Way Of Life

I live in Moshi,Tanzania,
As a child,one day I got lost,
A maasai took me to his home.
He lived at the foothills of the majestic Mt.Kilimanjaro,
His home was a kraal (hut)
made of  stone,sticks and cow dung.
I cried for my parents,
So he fed me milk and blood from a cow,
He pierced a hole in the cow's neck,
He put a bamboo and told me to drink the blood,
It was warm but I vomited,
Gradually, I got used to it.
The maasai's  way of life is communilism,
Hunting,gathering and raiding neighbours cattle.
Theirs is an age set system for men,
The children look after the herd,
I joined them having fun,
No  school, no lessons or homework.
Then,there were the Morans,the youths,
They wore black **** cloths,
Carried a spear in one hand,
Their faces were painted with white ochre.
They protected the clan and the cattle,
From predators and other tribes.
They lived in a circle of huts called manyatta.
After being circumcised the Morans were taught the art of warfare
The bravest warrior got to wear the feathers of an ostrich.
The senior morans could marry and settle down,
The Moran who jumped the highest got the best girl.
The Laigewenanis trained the morans to be warriors,
My maasai was a laigwenani,
Like all maasais, he was tall and lean,
He wore a bright red shuka cloth with black stripes,
A red tartan blanket was slung on his shoulder,
He always held a long bladed stabbing spear,
His long hair was tightly braided,
He had ochre painted on his body,
He had no children and treated me like his son,
He would take me to teach the morans about warfare.
But,he had to take the permission of the chief, the Laibon.
The Laibons were the chief religious leaders,
They settled disputes,
They decided when and on whom to attack.
Luckily,after two months my maasai and I had gone to a game reserve for hunting,
A game warden found me.
He alerted the police and I was taken home safely.
But,I missed my maasai and their pastoral way of life.

As visitors nowadays you can go and live in a kraal and experience the maasai way of life

#maasai #kilimanjaro #kraal #manyata #blood #laibon

Ignatius Hosiana May 2016

When I Wrote This Piece

Ignatius Hosiana May 2016

When I Wrote This Piece

I wrote this piece seated on a skin irritating lawn
maybe it was a plastic table but itching was how it felt
while desperately begging fate to an extent I almost knelt
because I was totally exhausted and bitterly alone

I wrote this whilst I still lifted the desolation load
I guess you were on your way then but coming the toad
while I was deadbeat with no arms to take me aboard
I wrote this long before the song of our romance would download

I wrote this while I was engrossed, battling school
in a kraal of beauty yet shockingly a lonesome bull
I think at the time you still owned a plastic doll
when I totally doubted there was even the slightest of chance I'd ever fall

I wrote this piece evading sleep for the fear of creepy dreams
tears cascading down my eyes like fountains down the streams
consequent to the ache underneath every emotional scar
and doubting our encounter would ever occur

I wrote this relieving the imaginary side to my story's end
too boring a love story to predict what lay beyond the bend
something deduced from the notes my heart would send
even before you were a stranger let alone a friend

I wrote this before we met courtesy of a surprisingly considerate fate
before I'd dare imagine that lass in my fantasy was you
when I saw no difference twixt love and hate
and so much disbelieved that people are capable of staying true

I wrote this long before overcoming my insecurities and doubt
then when my soul was but a creepy dark empty place
prior setting eyes upon the flamboyant heavenly face
when I clearly saw no possibility of making out*

then when passion and romance were just a myth
when the sharp two sided sword of my affection was hidden in its sheath
when my heart was my mind and mind was my heart
Believe me, I wrote this when we were still by destiny set apart

#love #wishes #destiny #random #soulmate #lonesome

Esfoni Jul 2016

Dancing Window!

Esfoni Jul 2016

Dancing Window!

Faded, cracked, on the wall
sitting on top, a barn owl
next to a tree, a window
singing a song, on prowl

she could hear eagles call
mingling with wolves howl
a whispering water fall
pushing the rocks to brawl

a big river in the Gaul
hissing cicadas crawl
even the calves, in kraal
school of fish in trawl

singing, dancing in red shawl
Janet, David, Kathy and Paul
young or short, old and tall
every summer, winter, or fall

07/05/2016

matthew scott harris Jul 2018

Troglodyte Trump

matthew scott harris Jul 2018

Troglodyte Trump

Sic semper tyrannis ad mortem
("Thus always I bring death to tyrants"
by infamous by John Wilkes Booth).

Trump’s tyrannical unsubstantiated
usurpation unleashes ugly Uber vagaries,
venomous vitiating, viva voce vulgarity,
wakening warring wicked woebegone
wretched Xerses, yawping yelping
yipping zeal.

The Doomsday Clock lurched thirty
seconds closer to midnight. As conclave,
sans Atomic Scientists’ Science and
Security Board (advised by Governing
Board and Board of Sponsors – including
Eighteen Nobel Laureates).

Alarm bells clang; declaring emergency
fiasco grips hearts; indoctrination
jacked knifed kraal; linking mankind’s
nemesis; opportunistic Pandora; queuing
rockets; spewing torpedoing urchins;
Versailles visiting violation vis a vis
weathered wracked…xing yanked
Armageddon

If twittering Trump’s troubling trends
trawls toxic, then tinder testy testosterone
terribly tells tattletale taking atrocious,
burglarious, calumnious, disharmonious,
egregious, ferocious, gregarious, hellacious,

ignominious, injudicious, ludicrous,
malodorous, noxious, obnoxious, pernicious,
querulous, rapacious, salubrious, tenebrious,
unctuous, vicious, wamefous, xylophagous
yields zany zealous zippered zombies.

Prognosticators warn with more urgency
deleterious, dicey donnybrook dumbstruck
fatally feverish, fiery, foolishly frenetic, horribly
humungous, jaggedly jittery, jumbuck Kaiser
kamikaze Kant, kerosene kindling kleptocracy,
kneading lawlessness, learns lessons leaving

lousy luck, nurturing nattering nabobs, peevishness
provoking, puck, Quaking quickening quotidian
rabble rioting rousers, rogues ruthless seismic
spasms strike terror, tinder tomahawks torching
treasures, tidily trickily, troika trove truck.

Cobalt blue eyes per president; pierce panorama;
   pessimistic perception processed
decisions made heavily impinging lives, sans
   people across America,
   laser focus personal quest
quickly embarked, whence twitter feeds ***** riot
   with tweets hinting of political unrest
sprung from provocation fostering folks far and wide

   to speculate motives donned vest
Commander in chief wields iron fist foisting
   wharf air tumultuousness harboring ship of state
   foisting risky business viz electric cool aid acid test
sites set with “full speed ahead”, and
   “**** the torpedoes” fueling
   anarchy, chaos and enormous repercussions

   within sea of humanity wrest
in pieces slung with barrage on behalf of self anointed
   supreme ruler re: Stars and Stripes
   indulging angry rants foment civil chaos,
   where trumpeting hooligans dressed
as hooded lambs curry pandemonium
   proudly straining breeches qua exploits best
exemplified thru prophesies predicting schisms

   starting as faults hair brained baddest
dread locked bunched braids presaging
   deadly mortal Kombat inciting global Jihad lest
the reins of totalitarianism clutched tight
   by septuagenarian who covets ability
   to wield mutant ninja turtle warrior clout
   more precious and priceless than fine
   spun golden toys alas cooped in the attic,
   or goodies in ***** trapped treasure chest.

#no #way #for #him #to #win #november #2020

Cyclone Wolfok Baltimore Nov 2019

Pour ne pas paraphraser Césaire

Cyclone Wolfok Baltimore Nov 2019

Pour ne pas paraphraser Césaire

Le poète ne se reconnaît
Ni dieu ni maître ni loi
Seul lui importe l'abandon aux sirènes des muses
La seule Justice qui vaille à ses oreilles.
Pour ne pas paraphraser Césaire
Et avant lui Perse
Et bien d'autres encore laminaires
Il y a autant de muses que de volcans
Certaines meurent de petite mort
D'autres demeurent de mort certaine à petit feu consommé
Remplacez volcans par muses
Accordez les adjectifs et les pronoms
Ce qui vaut pour les volcans
Vaut pour les muses aux dorsales Bossales comme abyssales.
Dixit Césaire :

" Il y a des volcans qui se meurent

il y a des volcans qui demeurent

il y a des volcans qui ne sont là que pour le vent

il y a des volcans fous

il y a des volcans ivres à la dérive

il y a des volcans qui vivent en meutes et patrouillent

il y a des volcans dont la gueule émerge de temps en temps

véritables chiens de la mer

il y a des volcans qui se voilent la face

toujours dans les nuages

il y a des volcans vautrés comme des rhinocéros fatigués

dont on peut palper la poche galactique

il y a des volcans pieux qui élèvent des monuments

à la gloire des peuples disparus

il y a des volcans vigilants

des volcans qui aboient

montant la garde au seuil du Kraal des peuples endormis

il y a des volcans fantasques qui apparaissent

et disparaissent

(ce sont jeux lémuriens)

il ne faut pas oublier ceux qui ne sont pas les moindres

les volcans qu’aucune dorsale n’a jamais repérés

et dont de nuit les rancunes se construisent

il y a des volcans dont l’embouchure est à la mesure

exacte de l’antique déchirure."

« Dorsale bossale » in Moi, laminaire..

Muluuta Mugagga Dec 2019

THE SPECIAL CHRISTMAS

Muluuta Mugagga Dec 2019

THE SPECIAL CHRISTMAS

The birth of christ announcements
across the entire world they spread
many widely opened their eyes waited for signals
to welcome the announced unusual delivery

Joseph then full of energy and a humble young man
was mad in love with Mary and not yet married
both had not yet arrived at the intimacy stage
avoided fornication not to anger the Almighty
the punishment was stoning to death!

As Mary contemplated how sweet marriage was to taste
prepared herself for the good and ugly in the union
wondering whether Joseph was not to change in future
Angel Gabriel appeared to her with a message
' you are to conceive and give birth to a Son of God'
being a ****** fear and anxiety engulfed her

Joseph was shocked i can imagine
belly swelling with proof of pregnancy
without intimacy acts how could it happen?
guided by faith he never reasoned
stayed with Mary loved her unreservedly
under orders of government authorities
couple trekked to Bethlehem for registration
in a lowly kraal despised by many and the high class
the saviour of the world was delivered
destined to wash away the hell of sin!

Celebrating Christmas this year
both Joseph and Mary accepted the will of God
they set a perfect example for us to emulate
we must open our hearts to receive Him
allow Him to transform our entire lives
we ought to love one another without conditions
obeying the ten commandments let us start now
Merry Christmas and happy new year!

the special birth of christ

Travis Frank Sep 2018

Man on the Street

Travis Frank Sep 2018

Man on the Street

Breakfast now polished, we all climbed in
The warm silver Mercedes automatic,
Headed for Durban’s deep indigo tides for the day
To forget the ache of isolated hills for a brief spell.

The mighty, gargling Tugela passed quickly with its bellowing bovine
As we trekked on through toll booths,
Shell Select shops
And then past Shaka’s Kraal, Ballito and finally into beloved Durbs.

Now parked on philandering Point Road,
We entered The Wheel, South Beach’s green Ferris jewel.
MacRib was struck off the list first with a bony feast,
Then Wimpy knocked off next with a bubbly milkshake.

Two o’clock and we were on Pickering Street,
Where I saw a seated elderly mystic
Searching for truth and enlightenment in a black forest
As told by paint on 7-ply Canadian maple.

On the way home, I saw a man shorn of abode and company.
wheredoeshelivedadwhydoesheaskformoneywhydoeshehavenofriendsdad
OH – I SEE (why doesn’t this happen at home?)
“Never look down on him – only learn from him,” the Rock advised.

Kind soul nested in rags, teach me your ways.
Loosen my heart from civilsation’s self-fulfilling coil.
I’ll keep the *** warm for tea and marmalade toast
When we meet and dine at the passing of this sordid world.

matthew scott harris May 2021

Husband feebly tried to smite (figuratively)...

matthew scott harris May 2021

Husband feebly tried to smite (figuratively)...

Preface preceding promiscuous philandering peccadillos
undermining energy and time not spent with missus
and mother of our precious progeny,
whereby, yours truly sought, (somewhat assertively, modestly,
and zestfully) to elicit – illicit prurient heterosexual predilections
before dark shadow of guilt crept along edge of consciousness
straining outer limits of twilight erogenous zone and now cringe
when perusing, reading, traversing... outdated ****** emails
I wrote, a random example plucked out among vile archives.

Herewith his highness presents today May 13th, 2021 ----->
written... dog knows how many years ago.

Husband feebly tried to smite (figuratively)...
appetite appeasing verboten fruit

Hence with spring coiling the aire
meant frisky moist tender vittles everywhere.

For better or worse,
she ne'er done gone spoilt amorousness
when the siren of Aphrodite did call
thy wife encrypted an algorithm
within ethereal realm of cyberspace
and figuratively seer sucker punched
smack dab, where spite spilt a fall
hen opportunity when electronic
flickering hinted juiced the merest trace
lock, stock and barrel prospect

gunned down married chap – with gall
struck up report with veritable gal
whose convened via website Topface
a heavy sensation arose within
pit of mine stomach akin to a bowling ball
which sinking spate found me
to curse the fickle finger of fate – to brace
myself against forgoing what felt
like puppy love, thus pet a file did maul
invisibly with thwack of disappointment

toward a young gal I did NOT chase
whose repeated texting after
this many salient idiosyncrasies out kraal
and if further progression
between myself and this veritable unseen face
there would be hell to pay,
cuz this husband fell prey
to illicit liaisons deux in all
that thee missus when discovered
threatened to annihilate amazing grace

this papa attests toward his two –
then near grown – now independent
darling daughters prone to drawl
out and/or hiss icy critiques,
and if successful spouse
would get both girls to place
their doting papa on par with
lowliest life forms,
or mold thick on a damp wall
adrip with guilty regretful ramifications
per consummated infidelities,

which transpired in an attempt to erase
unyielding turmoil from love's labor lost
regarding remembrance of things past – a pall
cast a dark shadow since
severe prepubescent paroxysm o’er abysmal place
where this then stripling of slight boy
still wracked by a self generated squall
a ferocious tempest etched indelibly
analogous to ode on a Grecian vase,
whence loss of untested interpersonal

sea legs in a bygone existence I did stall
now clamors vociferously treading
with boots on mien kampf ground for lace
of psychotic arsenic to be expunged that didst wall
my natural adolescent self
to gather rose buds, where pestilential mace
undermined essential sexuality ego boost,
and contrariwise cast upon atoll
a self crafted rocky Robben Island shoal,
until dying day no peace at home base.

Thomas Bron Mukama Feb 2020

Valentine

Thomas Bron Mukama Feb 2020

Valentine

There will be no valentine
I am not willing to die for our love
for if i go, who will stay with you

I know you fear cold nights
I wont go to watch you freeze
The vultures too are watching
from our dinner table
waiting for me to drop you
And so for our choice
Let valentines be today not tomorrow
Let it be now and forever
Tomorrow next is far to show you
Ready to nest you in my kraal

I am painted with your favorite color
and dressed like Santa
Let Christmas be today and Valentine now
We are limitless Grace bound us

— The End —