A Tributary In Servitude 13 Thunder Among The Hills
I. Hills roll unto hills hills behold hills the crow perches— an ocean of sootcarpets the whiteness of earth.Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.
Hands. .h.i.therto apart stretch in unisonto save what is leftof the nemesis of heart— hatchlings of sorrowpeep out of the broken edge— charade of apostolic vagabonds.Maggots of the aftermath these are which crawl the twin dunghillwhich serve me as cheek.Even when the falconer is nurturing the beaks of a.s.sault putridity is the melody of my soul like this rain which bears semblance to my grief.II. The nettle stings— the flesh rebelsthe chameleon of heart clasps empty hands in the air invoking firethen retires to coverin the upside-down bowels of a mortar.Mortars that have seen all the messwill be torched by the heralds of rain—I recant the legend of the yamwhich wrecked the virginity of the soil then gave the soil a farewell of leaves eloping with the farmerto the death awaiting its clan.III. Here, a barnful of sin offerings my ailment defies all treatments bretton woods' prescriptions oriental concoctionsAgony-land, agony-childall I'm asked is to sit and stare they'll bring me my grave in bed—father, save me from this rain of sorrows.They found what belonged to no man and they swore to vanity the land is to be shearedsh.e.l.led and skinned—Vertical horizontal spherical iconographies ofdisorder and disorders rainThe man in me bids me stay through the tragic harvests of Negro obedience:my eyes turn bitter cola my cheeks walnuts...The hunger will linger on the scars will not heal—I'll be here by the world's corner exiled from the rituals of my clanwatching a commonwealth of bitterness emerge as monument to a senseless past.IV. Divination knocksodu configuration surfaces on the tray of my art:A TRAGIC OPERA HAS GONE TO TOWN.Night is daytime, night rain is pay-time, rainthunder is elegy for the doers, thunder.Iron bends iron stone splits stones small knives, forked sticksare growing on the fingers of patience's patients.Fetch us the medicine-man who cures all maladies witha dose from the long bra.s.s gourd…V. Nothing is hidden from their sun, nothing,it licks the secret samples the scheming.
Even when our sight is sealed with black blankets of night— we await the promisewe applaud the storm revealing the beast.i.tude of reigning fowlsIt will yet rock the conscience of the eatersmore eggs will fall announcing a messy secret…VI. The new Babylonwith hordes of refugees trails the harvest where it lent no seed.And we say we are free, and we say we are wise—we bury vinegar in each other's spring chanting since we cannot recastthe mould of unity: the dew stopthe dew hangs.Boa constrictors lie submergedin the clouds waiting to write the history of rain, of laughter— stones aim at eggs,guns aim at snails wheretwo elephants maintain a balance of power.VII. Burnings and lootings lying and shootings down the precipice—vain clamour ushers us intoanother reign of mortars, of thunder biological, psychological, chemical welfare the second coming—a grinding of our bones.Last minute rush to quellignition on the Aburi of our bond— hijacked,turned towards a rage of metals of dust, of rustof festivals of anarchyand indoctrination of evil— this recycling of toxic wits…Come father, before thereeds of Edom settle on iron tide beating the ash of mortar sh.e.l.ls— another lie for the throat of history.Elegy in which I, myself shall spill my blood, await my resurrection from the land of stones—whet the raging furnace of death with blood, my blood…The rain dangles on thread in between the hills— stones lookup to stones hills behold hillsand war is bornand h.e.l.l is bornthe dragons unleashed…And the angels wait, restless sieving our heaps for light shall we, my people,deny the thunderAnd expect a miracle from the winds, and the G.o.ds which deny us, ancestors which betray us,and our sins which destroy us heartstones which jump ding-dong to earth our worldthis pending cosmic elegy…