When handed a stuffed pullet
looks like a stunned mullet
should I turn surly
in high dudgeon
please don't bludgeon
this old curmudgeon
and not to be outdone
altho' I am an only son
blame my parents
by all means
as I'm the result
of their poor genes
which run the gamut
of the spectrum
but I don't care one bit
not a jot nor give a sh*t
more politely put
I really couldn't render
a rodent's rectum
She slapped my face and walked out
And said she’d never come back.
She’d never cross the threshold again
So there; and that was that.
But she’ll return, I have no doubt,
Though she said she’d never come back,
Just as soon as it registers in her brain
That, tonight, we were in her flat.
Hobgoblin in the gutter under canopy of midnight,
magic brew of muti without rein.
Shadow figure torchon, darting half-light dare.
Spine chilling droplets wobble slowly down drains,
rusty copper mouthwash at the edge of jagged chutes.
Eerie urban soundscapes frame,
a sneeze or smothered cough.
Drone of vagrant motors probe, the flyby ink-black abyss.
Youthful laughter echoes over back streets,
as nearby lamp posts cast their bloodshot rays.
Night owls chinwag over Onion Bhaji,
raucous babble buried in a saffron whiff.
Strains of ragtime jazz and sleek arpeggios,
shrine or vinyl monument ahoy.
Hobo’s lonely whistle on an empty pier.
Urban jungle cast-off ghostly lurch,/
Burakumin patsy in high dudgeon.
Spooky timelines relish every moment of suspense,
swallowing the hush with ghoulish glee.
Quasimodo bell ring vaults a broomstick,
setter of alarm and wanton panic.
City wall clock twiddles on its hourly thumb,
scene plotter’s endless play denouement,
wee small hour dialogue without a script,
waiting for the dawn to take it’s baton.
Stop Abusing Women
A man saw a beautiful woman
in white cloths
She was going to church.
He called her,
pretty come to me please
She was well taught by her parents,
And she came close to him.
He said,
I love you precious.
She laughed,
"ha-ha! "
Looking at his heart.
He said again,
"I love you sweetheart."
She laughed,
"ha-ha!
I hear your sweet words."
My heart says,
"adorable words "
king,
majesty,
lord
I can see your sword,
I have one last word to say,
I love you too."
He was so happy,
He saw the moon,
And stars around a day.
One year later, she had a boy
She called him bodyguard
The one who would guard her soon
His husband was always in high dudgeon
No one could stop him
He killed her by no aim
The boy grew up
His dad rot in prison
He had the word to tell the world
Stop woman abuse around the world.
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe Mussabwa Chris