Bucolic Bubble Poem by Ombuge M Moses

Bucolic Bubble

Rating: 4.5


I'm Over slim'd to the marrow, as I compose.
Do I even enjoy to perceive sound?
Scraggy screams wheedling melodia
Qualms to skeletal village women
New scrawny life in ruins presented
A gaunt village woman giving birth
The only civic hospital closed
My lowly hamlet bizarrely on the breadline
Impecunious hospital Closed down for no water
Water so crude a creation free to honor
Free work of Godly wisdom man get hold of
From the gradient of the prickly hills
My village in cataclysmic need
My village a globule high-priced to cost
A piteous unripe maim woman in labor
The mid-wives gather, a baby is being born
A life on the agenda, more problems stockpile
Advice it to cudgel, to persevere onto the womb
The ambiance in there so fine, my own experience
The womb able-bodied, hundred times the orb
A world in my village, awfully callous for green life
Unsympathetic, dull-witted for a life being born.

Raucously it screams in angst
An indication of a healthy landing
Generation increased, village Father's working hard
Village hygiene so poor, myself a village boy
Boy so malnutrition-ed, moreover slim and weak to obese
Obese I adore, how quick round and corpulent to be
It's not my wish, Over slim'd I am to the marrow
Food a vision a dream, a fantasy, an illusion, a miss
Quenching in drops, stagnant is the village water
Rain collected earth water, too green to quench wild
Green for sewage dirt, illiterates don't believe in latrine
Bush excretion is habitual, custom aver nucleus rostrum
Rain water bath the ground, exposing illiterate's secrets.
Culture so strict, awaken boy between bamboozled ago
Rain gathers green dirt at traditional collection
Dirt has avenue, in village ignored by representatives
A boorish man on the wing with links in high place
My village forgotten since ancestor's migrating fatigue
Enervating made ancestor inhabit birthing my problems
As usual we quench the hot sun, a drink enticing sickness

A new life has come to the village
Babe-in-arms is a girl, men are down in the dumps
The father of it so wide a smile
A sure warning sign of a well groomed dowry
A son like me is too expensive to educate
A girl is just to marry and enrich
To feed and to quench is for husband
It's not my aspiration, bona fide expression attested.

Bloodsucking vampire too harsh round the clock
Malaria sickness a routine, no cure for no hospital
Medicine left to herbalists cocktail concoction
Too bitter for anyone to gulp down on hungry abdomen
Scrawny screams prolong in harmony materializing melodia
I the village boy troubled for change, ignorance oodles
The representative too informed yet ignorance is twin
Girls round orb empowered to equal village boys on education
Village Men still tightening their belts, working to find dowry
Grand Mothers still sharpen blunt knifes to carry mutilation
Boys now leaving classroom for hunting and animal rustle
Police killing with bullets as youthful bodies role in dust
Unapologetic the commander is, attitude of the representative
Over and done long enough, do I abhor to be a boy in this village?

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