Grave Poem by Saviour Micheal

unprepared grave

for alepo
for silence talk
for syria
for weeping ghost
for borno
for gossiping MASTER degree & HND in the cupboard

if you ask an hungry boy on the roadsidewhose eyes vomit tears to stain the white bowel

he would say, his father was a chef who told him that forward is rough and backward is shame before six feet employ'd him to cook for the restless spirit....

if you see me talking about pains, know that i'm a sojourner so confuse searching for my ancestral home

this earth was once our brother before he turn'd to cain,

& hate our prosperity, my sister is a lonely streets filled with ghost

mother's bones become shovel for those in mass burial.... Where my kid brother stagger his tongue to seat an heavy vocabulary of poetic tributes

father's face is a burden of an incompleted huts slapping by rain

if my little nephew ask me why

i would tell her to look at the rotten eyes of ancient cowries to flashback the pains of yesterday future

i saw a masquerade dancing on a poor man craft
we sing a song for souls

with an engraving epitaph- dust-to-dust

©2018.