Christopher! Warrior poet !
Dike ji ofo jide ogu ! Like the ancestors
You read the goddess book of war and blood
That war and blood are the blights of flowers
That poison could be the wine of honor
The holy water of the garden of sweets
When jackals stomp into the sacred groves
To begin a parade of wild animals
Christopher! It is now a parade of wild animals
It is a season of wailing souls, ugulu di egwu !
Terror mounts sentry at the gates of sleep
It is a season of wailing souls, echi di ime !
These days are nightmares of iron hoofs
With nights of flint and red coals of pain
It is a deep night of wailing souls, abani di egwu !
A season of the terror of knotted things
How all bear the sermons of jackals
Of mongrels glowerng over starving babies
It is a season of beastly inaugurals
Of red fangs and growls and howls of blood
A yellow fox sits on a trumped gold throne
Surrounded by hyenas in scarlet cassocks
It is a carnival of stolen red caps
And of eagle feathers mixed with chicken feathers
Of beaded crowns from ancient nightmares
Of clowns pulsing with poisoned daggers
Resplendent rogue angels in gold on white
Scornful of detection scornful of law
Because the air is ruled by a king of thieves
In brazen majesty from barns to groves
It is a carnival of such giddy heights
A risen Jadum will cry for another death
Such saccharine chants such cheap magic
Lace the air with soporific pain
With mass agony in sweet refinement
With murderers and swindlers clinking glasses
Chalices chalices in a smell of blood
With peoples pain elixir! Elixir !
Christopher ! Warrior poet!
I tell you again. It is a parade of wild animals
Our world is now a pitiful weakling
It groans with the burden of an elephant corpse!
Burning Bush Continues >>