Irony of Purpose

It is funny! 
Very funny how
A masked preacher can preach honesty; 
And even points at the wrongs with his
Fingers of hypocritical righteousness…

We stare with grim satisfaction
Because the black winged Angel 
Ridding a flaming chariot tells a tale; 
And proclaims that God is love, 
Yet he, himself is an Angel of death. 

Day after wretched day Humanity walks! 
He walks down the dark alley of freedom;
Freedom which shouts fairness; 
Fairness that begets confusion—
And he tries to bottle the spittle of birds…

Every night he lies in bed and tries to hear
The voice of fishes shouting gender and Sexualty in a world where the scale of
Equality is  unevenly proportional and
Equal rights mean the oppression of men. 

Apartheid, the history of Mzanzi is 
The present for the African world and
That has caused his inferiority complexes 
To suffice and personalize racism and 
One after another, generations play along. 

Lest we forget, 
The victims are just as guilty
As the perpetrators but at some point. 
Humanity weeps as he inspects 
His isle of hopelessness! 

But just like the majority, men; 
They cry in hiding. 
Where no-one sees, 
No-one hears and 
No-one dares speak for the black sheep! 

Deep down this egocentric radicalism, 
He orders rotten eggs to make an omelette
With which he feeds pirate justice, 
And he goes all year long 
On a running stomach. 

Although the words never sink, 
Humanity hearkens to 
The rumbling stomach of justice but 
When the rainbow of life turns 
Grey! 

Humanity's children cry day and night
While the Angel of death entrusted 
Their protection feasts on their tears
And dances to the beautiful sound 
Of their troubled voices. 

And when the wolf comes for their
Brazen souls we hail at the smiling lady
Who says 'I am virgin Mary'
With fangs behind her white vail
And poison under her tongue—death! 

The rich are poor but morally, 
Yet no-one sees
And no-one cares; 
They say 'each one for himself' 
Come shall the final hour do. 

It is funny! 
Very funny how
A masked preacher can preach honesty; 
And even points at the wrongs with his
Fingers of hypocritical righteousness…

Humanity looks on 
And passes his judgement. 
The masked preacher scoffs:
“No-one is perfect. 
No, not one!”
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace