THE ROTTEN ROOT BY AKINMULEYA ALFRED
THE ROTTEN ROOT
THE ROTTEN ROOT(for people who grew up in villages and jungles)
What inspires them are expensive.
They are multifold and contemporary.
The colored rolling ball
From a hidden source;
That shed light on the pop singers,
The noise that plaudits the break-dancers,
The paints, all the mobile and the immobiles
The success talks by the prominents,
Visitations, traveling, the handshakes of being-tos
And the talks of celebrities.
Here, we are inspired too.
We are inspire by the crudes
In different direction
In a dissimilar fashion
Obeying different etiquette.
Yet, we feel the world around us.
The chucklesome dance of the masquerade in array,
The hysterical younglings that convulse for fun,
The fearless bullier boys;
Boys that dare play with skulls.
The chanting on our head, the ancestors name,
The narration of far-from-truth anecdotes at moonlight
The hounding of the Lizards that fed in the cracked wall.
The building of Utopian mansions With chunky materials,
Beachfront sands and bamboo pole;
The fearful mien of the child with squirrel teeth
Tied around his languishing neck.
The fears planted in our mind when *Anjanu* is mentioned;
The fun of the eon holidays
Lies on the number of rabbit you killed.
The cold breeze that escorted our pain at night
That night breeze from the sea.
The bacteria-full water we drank with gratuity
The rushes of “night rain” on our “reader”
That labeled us guilty of carelessness before the teacher.
The rattan cane from the teacher with multiple bears
The kilometers bushy path we tailed to school
We have our green moments too.
From a rotten root
And we live
And we survive
To be survived.
© AKINMULEYA. A. ALFRED