Village boy Impressions

  First came the pale ants Who gazed in wonder upon the land Stretching to the horizon and beyond, where Man, bird and beast roamed free Each belonging to no one but themselves So they called us headless.  Preposterous! And with one swift stroke of the mighty pen, Our A nnex ation Proclamation was drawn up  With as little ceremony as possible;  "We hereby claim this land for Her Majesty the Queen!" But our fathers fought and bled and won it back Then arose the new masters in our time; Big men, genteel ladies, pot-bellied tycoons,  Chiefs or 'thiefs', we know not, Multinational looters and robbers, and  the political crooks behind them. "The land does not belong to us; We belong to it, It cannot be sold" ! O ur fathers said, Now they grieve  in their graves, while Red signs on whiteboards announce  Our final doom: “Keep off! Private Property,  No Trespassing!”    All over the land, the signs rule. Formidable, Like sentinels keeping ...

Of a truth was Caesar’ intuition To have fat men about him Such as doth sleep at night. So would I have loud men any day That shout and shake and swear In showing anger or malice That let out peals of laughter When happy or tickled Or cry open bitter tears at need. Of them you may open and read And need not fear of poison darts Or sharp knives deep concealed. Not so the kind that dwell in quiet,   That brood in loud long silences Keeping century-old wrongs dear. That sit up late nursing their envy And all that is dark and sinister Is hoarded in their hungry bosoms. They creep in the shadows unseen Like vipers in the undergrowth, With their lean and hungry look There is no telling their thoughts Nor affection nor ill will Them you must not only fear but run!