African poetry

The king on the stool

I have walked the path into the forest forested by thickets to see the juju man and sold my soul in exchange for the stool I have talked the path and my tongue has slid authoring catastrophes of gigantic proportions I have listened to the path of the old men my ears deaf to the Cox of their wisdom.
I have seen the evil in my ways but played I hear no evil, I have heard the voice of evil in my ways but feigned I see no evil and I have spoken evil in my ways but let my words speak louder than my actions. I have seen no evil I have spoken no evil I have heard no evil I seat on the king's stool.

The king on the stool speaks his mind
I have fallen from my stool for having fallen so low and lost my sense of humanity trapped in the spidery webs of deceit I have woven intricately to entrap my fellow brothers. I have bambooed the coconut tree fencing out my fellow monkeys yet with my wretched soul I have taken up the halo that doesn't befit my head like the crown I wear of pure thorns, my head has been held high in pomposity the corruption of the soft feel of the coury shells a stain on my soul the price I paid for the stool that I now sit on enjoying the trappings of power.

I have chained my own skin and sacrificed my own blood then shipped them to the coffee plantations at night their souls have howled with a vengeance of a wounded buffalo and the plight of the innocent souls has begged me to depart from my path but I have drunk myself silly with the wine distilled out of their blood.

On their daughters I have let my loins loose and loosen my belt in pursuit of my manly satisfaction turning into a disgrace to manhood, I have sent their sons to war to further my own empire that is already so vast that the African sun sets not on the whole empire.

There's nothing new I have left where I pass only death and plunder as offering to the altar of power,  I have sided with the oppressors in exchange for their magic and I have been treated to their ball room dance then rewarded with harlots to warm my bed trading the skin of my fellow brothers for this privilege of civilization.

I have seen the African skin smelling like feaces scarred with whips living in shacks devoured by the bitting mosquitoes and cold, I have seen their black eyes stare at the depths of my black soul as their sweat drips on the mansions foundation they intend to live in but I have help them cover the eyes of their liberty statute and guided their crucifix to the necks of my people placing a yoke on the gods razing down their shrines urinating on the mugumo tree in the name of their saviour and in the name of their democracy.

I have eaten the forbidden fruit of good and evil and led them to stray slithering like the serpent my tongue out my fangs ready to strike their necks when they let their guard down, I have fashioned my sime from it's sheath awaiting for them to turn and give me their backs so that I can stab them. I have slithered biting the heels of my sisters still in pain from child birth, their twins I have thrown them in the evil forest in the name of taboo and their unborn I have place in the hands of pawn brokers and Shylocks as security for their loans so they have been at liberty to rape our African soil with filth.

I have walked the path preaching water drinking wine I'm hailed at the man of the people the hand of the gods the eyes of justice yet I have washed the unclean hands and hunged the child hearted, I have oiled the scales of justice with the proceeds of ill gotten wealth and I have dined and wined with the highest bidder in the corridors of justice.

I have given them the illusion of power by getting them to think if they elect their village chiefs to my cabinet they hold the power a lie whiter than snow because I have picked up the scent of the unscrupulous and the devious in the community posing them as my ministers.

I have talked the path spewing hatred feeding on division I have given them traditional institutions but placed my cronies to head them, I have created trade routes for the traders heading to the trading markets the next ridge but placed kidnapper along the way. I have built bridges bridges to the next side of the river infested by crocodiles but one stepping wood I have placed loosely so that they fall into the cup of  death, I have given them laws flowery as taboos but illogical in their practicality so that I can imprison their sons destined for the slave markets.

I have seen the path to the water point but given them the wrong map to the evil forest where the blood thirsty evil spirits lay, I have given them seeds for planting but the lands I have given to the landlords who are the highest taxpayers. I have booby trapped the forest and allowed hunters to head into it to bring game meat, I have sent their sons to the front line and let mine at home with their dog mouths sagging as they watch the bone on the dinner plate fighting amongst themselves scrambling for their inheritance which brims with minerals.

I have walked the path of power
I have walked the path of popularity
I have talked the path of property
I have the path of prestige
I have walked the path of pomposity  but now a beat of regret is rife in my words, my thoughts and my ways so the stool I sit on is an anthill full of chindukusi the corridors in the kings chambers are closing in on my like a prison my own conscience is lynching me with the stones of guilt I'm the king on the stool but I sleep not the blood of the innocent mold my nightmares .