The Stranger Man 2
THE STRANGER MAN (2)
They who posses tire
out and loose more
in keeping.
As homeowner never
have I felt at home
But closer home as
squatter and
settler.
The crop man crops
his way through
life,
The dry cleaner
cannot subdue the
muck;
The well heeled
can’t afford inner
balm with yen.
I need no fortune or
fame nor power
For they like lime
soot gathered in the
wind
And meshed with the
clay of the flesh
Makes the heart
heavy and stick with
the globe
Cannot transcend the
sphere’s
limitations.
I seek not a weighty
but soothing heart,
And forgo to hear
the distant willow
song
And reminiscences of
the howling pine.
Once a man of good
standing, well
‘heeled.
Goods of sorts and
plots like Sahara I
got
Heaps and bundles,
piles upon mounds
Of all necessities
and apparatus,
Strings and outlets
of a bee hive
The routes and
channels of
sub-Saharan trades
Sprawled everywhere;
I a trade mogul.
I built myself an
edifice like a
pagoda
Loomed from sky over
sprawling trench
huts
Swarmed about as of
winnowed chaff.
I have carved a
niche and engraved a
name
On rottenstone
before the windward
way.
I knew all I own,
but myself, I know
not.
Myself, shall I lost
at one time
And all my
acquirements at
another time,
Whichsoever shall be
the first to
The both must cease
and be gone to
scheol!
Alas I fear for my
life and all I own;
Intermittent angst
about the world,
life,
Of growing old and
what becomes of me!
But why, even as
through the years I
struggled
Earning “moolah” in
order to live life,
Now realize life has
not the worth of
diamond
For even tramps and
wastrels earn it
abundantly.
I esteem life so
much as fishes their
worms
But more estimable
for me to traverse
through
That it cloys me
not, to traverse its
travails.
Even as worms serve
the belly of the
fish,
Think not the fish
it serves the belly
of another?
Enough of life had
I, enough a wastrel
Now shall wander by
feet as by heart
roam.
The past is fraught
with ignorance, yet
now,
I am saddled with
pain and vexations
and
My expectations look
to future of
improbabilities.
Of life I shall ease
myself of her bond
neither
Let her cloy to me,
but fly my
affectations away.
I shall burden no
more the future;
Why? It’s yet an
abstraction. I
contrive no agenda,
Except now, I do and
walk my work.
Copyright © Solomon Itsoghole | Year Posted 2014
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