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Read Earwig Poems Online



If you should tell
All that you have bottled up
Who will you tell?
Who will believe you?
Stories of swollen head, slit lips
Blood, brimstone and bonfires 
Laboriously ignited to silence
Rats, rabbits, dogs, roaches and mosquitoes 
Stories of brazen batter, 
Brash bruises, crackles of fire crackers
Crumbles, rumbles, ruins and shambles,
Severe, seduce and abuse

Stories of decades of illegal earwig 
Arm twisting, neck wringing, bone crushing;
To wring water out of stone;
Nocturnal episodes, auditions 
Where, insidious, venomous plans 
Are jazzed up, cooked, to exterminate
Mice, mouse and harmless monkeys
Stories where the antagonist 
And protagonist is equity
Where justice is solstice
Pray, who will you tell
When sledgehammer, Kalashnikov, clubs and spears
Are deployed and hearts, soul's, fatigued bodies
Are bruised, battered, hewed, chewed and mowed down?

Who will you tell
Of the terror, tremor, horror, vandalism?
The unseen scars and stitches
Of hearts and soul's?
Stories of fabrications, distortions, propaganda and falsehoods?
Pray, who will you tell
Of weapons concealed in bread and tires;
Slashed, stripped shoes,
Storms in cups of tea
Disguised as bamboo sticks with belts in the Bush?
If you should tell of
Banana peels scattered like
Shooting stars in the sky
Stories of deliberate pot holes, slippery slopes,
Spell casters, tarot and palm readers
Who will believe you?
Who will you tell
When friends and allies turned coat, went cold
At the glean of a cold gun butt?
Who will you tell when,
Allies abdicate for a mess of potage
And dust like Peter against Christ
Before cock crow?
Pray, who should you tell
When he, who should secure
Is the intimidator and aggressor?
Who should you tell when 
The safest becomes the deadliest?
Who will you tell where,
Premeditated roadblocks, deliberate snares, mercenaries,
Tailgaters and knuckleheads are the norm?
Pray, how can walls hear,
Basket retain water?
Pray, how do you teach a pig
How to sing without grinding an axe?
Who will you tell stories of
Subtle death treats, rat poison in foods,
Terrors, tremors and horrors?
Who will you tell when,
Instruments of state become instruments 
Of terror, tremor and horror?
Pray, who should you tell?
But, tarry a while friend, 
After darkness, comes dawn
And after winter, summer.

Today's rain will, surely give birth
To tomorrow's sunshine

Copyright © Harry Biosah