The sugâ galantly stand around
with their spears
Dressed in goat ' s skin with painted
faces and hair
Their countenance say ' do not dare '
A direct contrast of the square ' s
light air,
Which is exagerated by the
tipsiness from the locally brewed
beer .

With dances the festival began in
earnest ,
Each dancer stamping hard to
make his beats the loudest.
The tipsy audience laughing and
cheering their best ,
Men, like chimpanzees , beating
their bare breast.
Mandiang is all, anything else is
being put to rest.

The drull drum is a - play for the
sugâ dance
Marking the ****** of all that has
and is to chance ,
The majestic monarch march for
the entrance
And the time for the rain - making
ritual to commence.

So it, at the end , rained as usual ,
The welcome crown of this annual
ritual .

Something destructed
the alteration from last year to this
is killing me
most would say
“I got my life
on the right track”
but its not the right track for me

my nights of running through forests and bogs
from security guards and cops
and stumbling into my room late at night
not know how  I got home
have faded away
the animus of the party
replaced by a nothingness
by a drull, by routine
like a drought
my life is drained
of excitement and adventure.

A poem for you
By PPTPOL
VIRC

Ugly Out Beautiful In

She ugly with her ugly fine ***
Her beauty comes from the inside
You only see her shell
All the good stuff behind there
What you want what guides you
to be her host thru years as one
But you got. To look at her heart
Where she stands beside you
How she does her part
Past her outside beautiful smile
Whats on file for the chart as a
Women a friend a mate
With their ugly ***
Im pass the point when i use to drull
Cause her heart shows me even more
A fine as women she is inside
More than ten
She number 1
She ugly with her ugly fine ***
Her beauty comes from inside
You see her shell

By Payda Paid the Poet of Love
VIRC