On The Seeing Hill Poem by Alade Abayomi Idris

On the seeing hill

Where I sometimes chill

Chilled by the sight I see

Boneless aged trounced virile lad

Past too powerful for present to overcome

And our adored future

Scampered beyond our chase.


Seeing from the seeing hill

In flowing white garments

Converged at a critical time

Powerful men of the cardinal points

To resuscitate our monstrous past

To defeat our present.


From the seeing hill

I see briefcases handed to the corner stones

A Waterdrop to droughty pebbles

At the polling place of decision

Crucifying our present with tact of the past

To shoo our morrow.


From the seeing hill

Uncultured boys of scarred faces

Brandished sabres

Weeding greens of the pasture

Tossing boxes of truth

To gore our now

And strangled our ends.


From the seeing hill

Minors gobbling grubs up the street

To fill cards with their impish prints

Killing the future

They would come to seek.


Going to the seeing hill

To see our many ill

Got me chilled

Though, jocund

For the runner's hideout i know.