POEM: TALKING DRUM

#Talking Drum

Bang bang bang!

were the beats of the

village drummer as 

Masqueraders danced

hither tither in horror

Bang bang bang!

The beats struck again

So does my heart beep in 

terror For the drummer

calls the face of warriors

past; Amidst the morning 

stars I do pant dreadfully

of which is safety; that

neither there nor here is

white and as the cloud did

turn dark and gloomy day

older folks ran into bricks

of shelter yet i roamed about

the shadows of evils hut

At the center of this market

square; this local drummer 

Struck again, again and again

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I fell on earths face beseeching

Mercy kissing the feet for the

storms of Africa have scattered

Oceans of foliages over this

square unleashing woes of

special insignias; amidst the 

Realms of such naivety I am

an alien and a lamb fit to 

atone sacrileges I am ignorant

of; that these drums do talk --its

drummer bask in the euphoria 

of a saviour; the rains of Africa

battered my face for the drums

Bang bang bang

Were not mere beats of terror

But the three edged foots of

the fork of ancient annihilation

Yes! the rains of Africa battered

my face as the feet of these

beautiful masqueraders Fades

away; for as I shut my eyes to death 

trees in Africa held my hands in tears.

Excerpt from Silent Whispers


By our poet, Esperanza Obene Ibim. 

Facebook: facebook.com/Esperanza-Obene-Ibim