Comments about Chukuemeka Akpe
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 ...
O, What A City!
refuse heaps dot the skyline
obstructing nature’s lights.
trampling mangled metals with jagged teeth,
picks and sacks in tow, dig their way to the summit.