Hannington Mumo Poems

I feel a nauseating revulsion to see scraps of prose
Bundled together in a neatened pile in the name of poetry,
And prizes being awarded for such otiose verbiage
And praises being heaped for such boring coquetry.
...

There seems to be an absolute ideal long lost by inscient Man;
A quenchless debt that ceaselessly steers all his fate-bound scions,
An insatiate debit yet unmet by each history's ill-cornered clan -
Often wholly unpaid, seldom a sliver settled by parodied minions.
...

Africa has had a four-year dance
Upon the pedestal of fame;
That little boy with a funny name,
Barack Hussein Obama the darling of chance
Has brought glory to a derided soil.
...

A sharp wave of breeze
Pierces through the dust-laden louvers;
On my face I feel blood begin to freeze,
Over it a cloud of pain lazily hovers.
...

Her face is invaded by networked wrinkles
For she gave to the world all her valued best,
Her input to the current world has tired her
And she looks up to the grave for final rest.
...

Walk with apt strides down those tricky stairs
And keep your eyes a few steps ahead of you,
Wave at friends without forgetting your legs;
On mightier thoughts stay focused and true.
...

One misty morning Grace came to my little house,
The drizzling clouds had soaked her purple blouse
And her rounded eyes sparkled with rain and lust;
I kissed her dewy lips as any savvy gentleman must.
...

Had I here depths that elsewhere thrive,
Swiftly I'd into your blissful fathoms dive;
And bid old pangs on the loveless shore
Eternal bye as I toe and hair slink below.
...

So Edward Kamanzola was born on the Christmas Day,
In the year 1943, and it was declared a rare luck;
And Fortune was set to trail his life all the way
To undoubted longevity of fortunate octogenarians.
...

The rain is never enough for the lazy man
To produce a sufficient harvest,
He blames Providence for lack of food;
The lazy man is never blessed
...