A BREAKAGE OF SORROWFUL SONGS
– For Refugees who meet the killers of their people
we tread this earth
Chewing the sun on our tongue
In the broad day sun.
Killers of our kinsmen are here.
We open our mouth to speak
& it is fire that burns on our tongue
How do you earthen
The memory of a cavernous dream
Of an entire clan swallowed
By a river of fire.
The Government said it will rain again
They lied.
Their emissaries were sent here
They, who stole our pot of water
I heard they washed the killers of our kinsmen
Into a repentance for the unfaithful.
How do you earthen
The crevices in a Porter’s heart
Who molds the path that leads
Into a breakage of sorrowful songs.
The killers of our daughters are here
The killers of our mothers are here
The killers of our brothers are here
The killers of our fathers are here
Go, tell it to the town crier
Go before it is dawn
Let the night wear you its colour
Let the sand carry your footprints
Let the earth listen to the clamour
In the crowd of your pain.
Through a dark cloud, you represent our anguish.
A black cloth is blanketed
Through the streets of our hearts
Seashells ashore
& broken dreams
& broken songs
& broken bones
& broken faith
& broken love
& broken pots
& broken & broken freedom.
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Poetry © Wazani Ijarafu
Image by Charly Gutmann from Pixabay (modified)
Waza I is indeed a fine poet who has mastered the art of poetry. I love his poem. It is enticing