The Drunk Chromosomes of a Drunk...(From the Manuscript, BLACK PATHOLOGY)
On the fertile foopath
to the weedy farm
he fell...
(Sun and Moon at a twilight reunion)
...and died not
...and the conceived son
from the drunk communion
was not a toad-cow...
The mirror
reflects the contents of the mind...
The soul
harbours the deeds of the body...
The crab
surely begets a crab
You sow what you reaped
the farming season before...
Then he saw no heavens
...but a vast emptiness
He felt his feet suspend in space
the Lotus-Eater cum Palm-Wine Gulper
He sang songs of lamentations
beneath the palm-wine seller's shed
He tossed
turned
...tossed
Balanced himself
Fell
Broke his neck
His son has a bottle in his back pocket
a stoic man to succeed his father
...and he has his father's Drunk Chromosomes
He is his father
moulted into prime youthfulness
to continue plying his trade
and be the gods' embodiment of advice
copyright 2005 by Nana Fredua-Agyeman
That's a powerful piece of poetry.
ReplyDeleteSeen this incidence a few times, crab begats crab indeed. It's sad though that the offspring is caught up in this unfortunate circle.
ReplyDeleteIt's really sad GMA. Thanks for your comments.
ReplyDeletea story well told
ReplyDeletea poem well composed
this makes a beautiful show
i just love it.
Thanks Novisi...glad you like it. This would have been what I would have read on Sunday. It is from a manuscript I am preparing. Sometimes I begin to see my poetry being performed on stage.
ReplyDelete