Unmask The Godfathers Poem by Peter Kiprop

Unmask The Godfathers



The round table brought a tenable undertaking,
But was it sustainable?
Yet with indifference and mechanical limbs,
They hauled our aspirations
Rich in history and boyhood dreams
To the fringes of national consciousness,
In the name of development.

These haughty ones,
With indifference of the zombies,
Methodical, serpentine
And cunning ingenuity,
Mauled our paper houses
And left us writhing in steely cold
In the name of protocol.

It is bare,
It is barren desolation,
Our dreams and ambitions
Stripped of all form
A mist in our eyes
Obstructing our visions.

Friend, is this the superhighway to paradise?
With a thousand neon lights
Illuminating the dark nights,
Disguising the agonized cries of its invalids
Crawling like roaches from paper houses?

We maneuver around these superstructures,
Taller than our ambitions,
Dwarfing the paper houses
Sprawled along our once impeccable streams,
Carrying little anthills of the children of marasmus.

We shout
In deafening silence,
From the stinking caves of our mouths
Unwashed from our once impeccable streams.
Along the streets of this illuminated city,
"Unmask the godfathers! "

But-
The gates of this illuminated city are banged on our faces
To protect the demigods
From the caves of our mouths
And grime-covered souls,
Exhumed from back alleys.

To the limits of our meager energy
We push
Crying
Our pulses palpitating
Left high and dry,
Simmering in the heat
From dawn to dusk.

Brother, dead with slumber,
Come to, this silence is unnerving,
Numbing, to the core of the soul-
Let's unmask the hideous godfathers
With serpentine agility,
Moving along the edges of our consciousness.
Sir, unmask the godfathers!

Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: social
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