Chukuemeka Akpe Poems
A House Is Not A Home
They adorn these walls as ugly ornaments:
Invisible trails of vermin
Painted with the bile of bitterness
for all to see.
The roof is a dome of cobwebs
Spun with entangled filial threads
that trap the sun’s warmth
Plunging the enclave in perpetual cold.
Its fragile foundation,
quaked by a split along maternal lines
that displaced brethren into separate camps,
still records intrigues and suspicions as after-shocks.
The patriarch wears a mask of anger
to scare off domestic intruders
and hide the wrinkles of frustrations
Etched so ...
A patchwork of decorated combatant lords
Stitched together with diverse fragile cords
Into a tapestry of nations hung on frail words.
A pariah of immense but modest beauty
Ogled from afar for her acclaimed booty
Yet shunned by peers for being naughty.
Heavily burdened with debt as rocks