Random Hallucinations
By Marial Awendit
i. wind
when harmattan
is clawed,
devoid of violin
strings; cobwebs.
in its haste,
my ears endure
sterile songs
only brown
crisp leaves,
baked by autumns,
stirring and whirring
whispering the season
is at rust
ii. religion
while beside
the market rubbish heap,
a white dog, coiled up,
suckles piebald pups.
iii. Kilimanjaro
Kilimanjaro
may not be a molehill;
frozen white ice slides down
grey rocks
as baptism of milk
and ice-cream.
mighty Kilimanjaro
wears cotton-white hair.
tourists come to gaze,
for her quiet
grandeur cannot whine.
iv. racism
a room does no divide
yet our don whines this skin,
my coat, should be black coffee
and this mind, the drop
of fire imbedded,
and time with iceberg tongues
freezes the fire.
v. creation
the river gods
gave us could not shrink
for them to cross.
did not that river
turn red-blooded
with their fury?
vi. national anger
these were droppings,
like ball bearings
sowed all about,
where we reared
government sheep.
does a country shit
with this extravagance?
at what cost would we keep
a government wolf?
vii. fire
I am too cold
to keep the hate
of a brush fire
warm.
b r e a k the water
with your brain.
if a stray scent
sent from a nectar petal
be this awful
kiss slow then the red
petals of wild fires.