Monday, March 18, 2019

Ayoola Goodyness Olanrewaju writes

onions I

they promise us promised promises
an eden of alleviation
and abundance of apples...

they feed and cloud our imaginations
of the pleasure in the pleasures to eat
apples from the lips of keen knives...

we gulp the brews of sweet deception
vow and vote the votes for their vows

and we whet our knives with stones of hope...

but when the sun shines on their shoes of aspirations
they lure us into the fields of rotten onions
and force down our throats the bulbs of tears...

our whetted knives blunt with the rust of sadness
and we cry pools of tears
only that our tears have just begun...

for as our knives eat into slices of onions
our eyes errand the river of new tears
tears without end...                                                   

the task masters relish in the baskets of apples
and in strange happiness
we munch our obese bulbs in sizzling cries...

we are stoned with the seeds of apples
and men kill men in the rush for seeds...

our children die from the knives of onions and blood...

we belch onions
we breathe onions
we become onions surviving from onions...

our plead for rights is plagued covetousness
and whenever our children cry for the taste of apples
we slap them hard with the satisfaction of onions...
Image result for onion apple paintings
Red Onion Apple and Garlic --  S Josephine Weaver

No comments:

Post a Comment

Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?