Too early to call all the winners although a few got thru
All so far are Democrats and the house now more blue
My predictions last election on US leadership came true
Was it enough to stir and change folks point of view?
The polls close soon give or take in every state
They want to gerrymander our votes—it awaits
I hope you come out and vote tonight for what is right
Justice for all, due process and to continue the good fight
Unless you still feel the same with nothing to else gain
but more hate not fostered from God’s love He gave
I’d rather you not bother—stay inside your man-cave
I Am Anaya
Election Day
11/4/2025
The heavy drums roar
The light cymbals strike
The men hide inside the lion prop
The lion dances lively
The clown in front fans challengingly
The lion moves swiftly
The lion rolls smoothly
Suddenly the lion jumps into the air
For the lettuce and the red packet Hung high at the door
The lion dance will usher in
Luck and fortune
In an enlightening and bustling way
Foods are catered for friends and relatives
Showing generosity and prosperity
Love is my Prop
I've fallen in love with a four wheeled prop
And I am walking along with a bop
I thought long and hard
Now it's my safeguard
Together we make a gruesome bellhop.
I wondered maybe it'd make me look old
But then perhaps I am old, all things told
I feel quite sprightly
Now stand uprightly
Things have improved a hundredfold, I'm sold.
They do say that pride comes before a fall
I’ll tell you that is true for one and all
With my wheels I shop
Held up by my prop
Furthermore we’re in for quite a long haul.
4th March 2022
How else do we prop a leaning tower?
Pull it down? Root and roof and all
falling, crush roaches and rodents—
aliens without a fatherland.
Leeches and suckers, they're. Carriers
of malaria, bloated tummies, fire red.
Hawks and vultures, hovering for carcass;
babblers, shrinking common coffers
with glee till the tower crumbles;
till they turn dumb. A peacock in borrowed
rainbow feathers, strutting. A white rooster
crowing at dawn with delight,
but cooing his dirge.
Will wind of fire fan a preening bird on
a perch? Will storm spare a lone Iroko
in a forest of shrubs; or soldier ants,
a tramping foot?
Digging deep, plumb and level in hand!
Dressed stone for foundation; cured bricks for walls!
The tower points high, firmly braced
in steady steps to stand storm and quake.
Stand! Stand, a tower as we stare gleefully,
heads raised to the sky.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
don't just there
be awhere
show you care
be aware
that your jobs is odds
that it s your crop
DON''T BE JUST A
PROP
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