Collops of fat line the tables of the few,
while the many stretch hands toward empty plates.
Skyscrapers rise in the capital,
yet in the villages, children bend under jerrycans,
walking miles for a sip of muddy water.
The economy grows, they say—
percentages polished and paraded—
but the growth is stored in vaults,
not in classrooms with broken desks,
not in hospitals without medicine,
not in the pockets of the farmer who tills red soil for nothing.
Every election season,
collops of fat are dangled like bait—
T-shirts, soap, envelopes,
promises swollen with grease,
but never nourishment for tomorrow.
The youth, restless, crowd into boda stages,
degrees folded in pockets,
dreams reduced to dust by unemployment.
Markets overflow with speeches,
but not with buyers.
Streets fill with posters,
but not with jobs.
Uganda’s wealth pools in corners,
thick, congealed, unreachable.
The nation limps,
while a few grow heavier, rounder,
their laughter echoing across gated compounds.
Collops of fat—
the evidence of excess,
the proof of imbalance,
the weight carried not by those who eat,
but by those who starve.
something is under the wheelbarrow today
It moved up in the air in a weird way
a monkey? a squirrel? tiger or bear?
a faerie queen with gobs of sparkly green hair?
the wheelbarrow moved ever so slightly
whatever it is, can I afford to take it lightly?
what if it is a kitten, a bird or a large puppy?
a whale? a shark? or perhaps a teensy guppy?
the green wheelbarrow started to shiver and shake.
this is a real story, true all the way through, not a bit fake.
a column of red fire ants paraded out, a thousand in all.
proud and fierce, all puffed up, with lots of gall.
Then a snake, a whale, a dolphin, and a baboon.
They brought with them a storm and a little monsoon.
I stared at it amazed, wondering what else would come out.
My husband was the last one, and he gave a big shout.
There once was a clown
who paraded around town
he thought the world of himself
and liked everything to be top shelf
He bought himself a mannequin
he married her no panickin'
soon his humour was delirious
his motives as mysterious
He found himself a throne
and claimed it as his own
he put a crown upon his stead
to cover his bald head
He started waving a magic wand
expecting everyone to respond
his orders grew bizarre by the hour
when he demanded a brand new tower
They moved his throne up to the top
hoping the insanity would stop
but no it seemed it wasn't to be so
then tumbling down they made him go.
AP: 1st place 2025
I feel dissected and mutilated. Strung up on a cross and paraded through endless eyes.
Nested in the cat’s cradle
Paraded in a child’s fable
I have no voice, don’t let me die
No longer shall I live a lie
I have no soul nor thoughts to save
Unbeknownst to me is
this life beyond the grave?
A designer dainty as she
silky essence she creeps upon so free
and with sheer elegance
unveils a painted lady in a trance
Wake me before the dream ends
In this a lie I can’t depend
Ochre paint splat on walls
Tinted forewings so not to fall
Hindwings I hold up in pain
Fragile chitin, scales, and veins
Bleeding strokes of mango chutney
Opera gloves cobalt blue, cloak impunity
Wake me up! Before I drop
Still asleep, a standing prop
And when I open my eyes
I’ll have wings like butterflies
The bitter truth sounds insane
Blends of electronic elements
Mesh makes perfect sense distasteful
Nestled neatly prim and graceful
Kept in the dark where it’s unfair
Wake me lest I vanish in thin air
In my dream a translucent permanence
I stand alone and have woken an evanescence
In the seventies lipsticks were beige, blah and nude
Dull, usually colorless and odorless, not to be rude.
Bright reds of the forties and fifties were passe’, out.
The lightest of peaches could be applied to a pout.
Women were expected to be straight up and down.
Twiggy at twenty, twenty, twenty, was paraded around.
Rubenesque chesty women were considered way out of bound.
Emaciated starving young models were the talk of the town.
jiggling juggernaut jockeyed judo
katie’s Korean kitties killed with kudos
lively llamas listened, learning Latin
Mischievous miscreants misused satin
Needless nimble noodles kneaded themselves
Opulence and opals were seen in land of elves
Paralyzed parlor poodles paraded past purple pails
Quarrelsome queens quickly collected quick quails
Numbness poisoned flowers
spooky nights serenaded
with chattered cowers,
wounded grasp cascaded
panicked voices bloomed
mother's smile paraded
with gleams doomed,
yearning hopeless answers
as death roamed.
A Friday in October
This morning was green and mild, with
no sand, in my eyes, wind from Morocco blew
Once, I was in Casablanca, I bought a pair
of traditional slippers with long toes
it is what one does at the old market
The TV man spoke about the weather
said Africa, which is a continent and many
other things
A farmer in the next village had killed his
wife, for a woman getting married
is a perilous activity, the lottery of life
is littered with unlucky females
In Mosul, Iraqi officers arW paraded on
the TV. Why? I don't know, I think it is about
war, but like splendid in green uniform
we see a tank fire at something over the
horizon, and everyone applauses
My neighbor has a nagging wife who's
need, turns hysterical for the lack of it
when she has one of her turns, the man
saddle up his mule, goes for a ride into
the woods of happy memories
Manifestations of your Gauzy Fantasies
Unravelling Bonds of Tangled, Mangled Destinies
Sun of Man Set His Right Eye on Me
Tenaciously Searing, Calculating
To Entrap Me, A Prisoner to His Needs
Inspired A Premedimated Deed did He
With Intent To Plant a Seed!
Stormed Wrecked and Invaded My Archipelago
Pirate Prowess, Sophomoric,
He Stared, I Jeered, Blotted Proviso Smeared
Drenched In Salted Sweet, Freshly Spring Showered Awhile Ago
Armpits Crying, Young Sun, I've Done No Wrong
No Shade to Evade the Soundless Seranade
As The Father, Not the Sun, Pearched In a Chariot
Cascaded, Paraded Crusade
Blazing Rays, No Mercy, No Refrain
Solar Purgatory, Solicited by the Solar Nova Hovering above Port-of Spain
Evaporated Senses, Smothered Disdain, Budding Foliage Scorched and Drained
Organically Syphoning Hydration Reserved for Lack of Rain
Heat Rashes, Depleted Cortizone Stashes
Senses Assunder, Lost in Wander
Drifting Sun Stroked, Begging Pardon, Parched and Punished In Port of Spain!
I had a dream
We were so much happier than we ever were
You were holding my hand just the same
And we were dancing which we never did
You were looking at me so ever intently like you always did
And I was feeling so secure in your arms like I never did
The comfort
There wasn't any sorrow between you and I
No shadows loomed
No darkness crept
Everything felt so right as it always did between you and I
And you were better than you ever were
And I could see a path for us
We paraded the streets you and I
Hand in hand we did
And it made sense
Seemed like I had forgiven you for all the pain
But I questioned
How unlikely it was for me to walk the same road as you
I am sure I don't love you anymore
You don't mean as much as you did
I don't feel as lost without you now
Sure you had filled my universe before
Gave my life meaning and purpose
But I figured I could live without you
And I suppose that was the life lesson
true feelings
concealed craftily
beneath the sheath
of saccharine psyche
fragile fantasy
of self sanguinity
fostered
by colors
of chameleon skin
spurious emotions
sprawl surreptitious
pretentiously
paraded skillfully
away from
edge of reason
epitomize deftly
camouflaged ego
As a smokless; human spirit; I yet celebrate'
New Zealands move, not to bin it.' The choice
To use that nicoteen.. Or not.' Is what
We now; are seeing..A drug if types.? Yet not
Invasive, unlike the jabbing drug paraded on
Every screen and radio.' Hordes of presenters
So gung-ho.! So positive in much unknown to
Kids adolecents and fully grown, past 2008 no
One it seems? Can be self determined it hits
My spleen, a different bile allbeit so' we all must
Prevent deny, it though' might and bluster will
Be used' yet the corrosive threat; is our freedom'
Being abused, a crushing of soul specially among
The younger.' Is there a move that this group are to
Be senseless intended? Just malleble drones i well
Consider? This should through all Nations send
Great shivers.!
She needs a new familiar, she is frightened of black cats.
This was told to them by a wizard named Charlie T. Matts.
No one believed it, for she was a powerful witch after all.
It is true, agreed a nonbeliever, seeing her hiding that fall.
She was behind a birch tree, as cats paraded by in masks.
Some of them were mealy mouthed, focused on their tasks.
They scare her to death the now believer told the others.
She needs to be straightened out said both of her grandmothers.
Pleaded she, topless when in street caught:
Equal rights with menfolk I’ve or not?
I’ve just done what they do,
Not more, nary less new,
If men do, so do women feel hot.
Oh really, wondered policing man,
Thoughts in mind bursting wild, hard to pen,
Discreet, he kept quiet,
So does this shunned poet,
Thinking of Poetry Soup’s fermaan.
_________________________________
Happenings |23.08.2023| Limerick, humour
Poet’s note: In a picturesque French town, a woman faced prosecution for walking through streets topless. In sympathy other women joined her in support. ‘If men can why not we? We too feel hot in this weather.’ They paraded topless with ‘what difference’ scrawled with a marker pen on their skin. This limerick imagines how she would protest when caught topless. Oh really, how the policeman might wonder. This reminds me of my school days. Some girls in our group argued on similar lines (no, not topless). In response boys challenged them to duplicate what all they could do and silenced them. But times are changing now. Fermaan=diktat.
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