Notes About The Poem

THE WAKE WITHOUT VIGIL

           

 

Time longer than rope

Chokes hearts dangling

In the reality of struggle:-

 

Grieving mothers and widows

Veil their grief in sagging bosoms

As they wail in excruciating silence:-

 

Fragments of men, void of hope,

View and count communal graves

Swelling with dirt, burying the dead:-

 

(Buried are “The Wretched Of The Earth”)

 

In the neap tides of sorrows,

Mourners wade the airy blood

Of the children of Pilate’s hands:-

 

In the stale winds of time, “woe is me”

Cries the forsaken land–lamenting scriptures—

Echoing Freneau: “They saw their country’s woe:-”

 

Stacked like molded bread slices,

Decaying bodies release spores

Of death to weary-eyed mourners:-

 

Like an aching bosom’s colloidal tears,

Life sags on, and Sisyphus-like children

Sit under the warrior ghost of lingering hope:

 

(Indeed, “At this wake…none keep vigil…None:-”)*


 

*A line from the poem, RECESSION, by Wole Soyinke

 

THE WAKE WITOUT VIGIL

THE WAKE WITHOUT VIGIL
           

Time longer than rope
Chokes hearts dangling
In the reality of struggle:-

Grieving mothers and widows
Veil their grief in sagging bosoms
As they wail in excruciating silence:-

Fragments of men, void of hope,
View and count communal graves
Swelling with dirt burying the dead:-

(Buried are “The Wretched Of The Earth”)

In the neap tides of sorrows,
Mourners wade the airy blood
Of the children of Pilate’s hands:-

In the stale winds of time, “woe is me”
Cries the forsaken land–lamenting scriptures—
Echoing Freneau: “They saw their country’s woe:-”

Stacked like molded bread slices,
Decaying bodies release spores
Of death to weary eyed mourners:-

Like an aching bosom’s colloidal tears,
Life sags on, and Sisyphus-like children
Sit under the warrior ghost of lingering hope:
 
(Indeed, “At this wake…none keep vigil…None:-”)*


*A line from the poem, RECESSION, by Wole Soyinke
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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