Chariot Delamps Poem by Merlin Mwaura

Where are you going?
what are you doing?
surely the world does not seem so urgent
to burst out in such insurgence.

Like chariots begone, past centuries ago...
they champion after designed boisterous campaign
with lamps glaring after their paths terrain
panting an' grunting like addicted slugs
to the fossil brew, of be - mooned flags.

The stars are groggy, their shine defiant
of our praise we've sang, till kingdom come
The giants are grumbling, they drag in stow
what havoc we are having, we beggar souls.

A black man standing...
a promise withstanding, while black gold
is smoked vehemently bold,
of import chariots on Calvary roads
Our statement are tasking, our poor below

Jigsaw puzzle, zigzag hassles
our gritting elite, teeth biting delinques
our futures are formless, faith fought for less
In this day an' age, a youth is rendered hapless
to pickings an' paving, on crowded cravings...
by corridors adapt to scandalous savings.

So where are you going?
what are you doing?
my sister is so young, strapped under your seat belts.
My brothers so bright, clummering for you seat heads
what are you doing, in a chariot De lamp?
You blinding lot, time too shall pass...
and forget you all.
an history might write, bewail your inherent curse
left to unsuspecting, uncultured heirs
the throngs of thromps of the 21 century.

While a heart thromps, while the lamps storm
on tarmac lawns, like chess pawns
to be smitten an' smite, however its liked
by the stars an' moons of our current ways.