|
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
rivers of blood
showers of bile
descent of shrapnel
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
winds of wrath
darkness profuse
these only
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
only discordant voices of penury
wondering out loud what went wrong
in the equation of their lives
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
no sudden leaps announcing shards of epiphanies
no searing desire to stare down the sun
no lilting lure in the hearts of men to cuddle the moon lady
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
no lore that dilates the head and detains the blood
or quickens the soul to crack the cordon of contentment
or walk the tall ordeal to freedom
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
no desperate lurch at a vanishing dream
no gruesome attempt to leach the reign of a rabid dog
no sublime appetite to stop our aching pain
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
no jingling of coins portending full stomach
no ruffling of currencies threatening relishes
no splash of running waters carrying men’s laughters
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
only garish buntings
celebrating the charade
on parade
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
only giant billboards
advertising the twisted dreams
in our innards
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
only tar-black rocks
ricocheting the howling fears
in the wilderness of our minds
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
only rivers of blood
splashing blood-curdling shrieks of drowning men
on deserted shores
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
… our life is one long shriek
from horrors unnameable
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
which symphony when voices are gagged by laws
wrapped in cheap polythene
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
which symphony when giant piles of filth
dwarf men of ideas
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
which symphony when nights are keyed up
with gun-shots
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
which symphony when gun-powder tickles children
to a death-sneeze
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
which symphony when caskets wander the streets
in search of men
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
which symphony is the dry cough from tubercular lungs
of angry taps
there are no symphonies in the air
there are no symphonies here
no whispering palms
no whistling pines
no sunshine
Top
A different version of this poem first appeared in Number 32,
February 1996 issue of Okike: An African Journal of New
Writing, founded by Chinua Achebe at the University of
Nigeria, Nsukka. Okike is now edited by Prof Ossie Enekwe.
I am proud to be associated with Okike as its one time
Circulation/Administration Assistant. This version of the poem
appears in Stars Die, 2004, Hybun Publications
International, P. O. Box 833, Apapa, Lagos, Nigeria. ISBN:
978-36950-6-1
HGNL2000@yahoo.com
Hybun2000@yahoo.com |
