When Poets Come Out And Play Poem by BiggRich Shuping

The playground of poets is set
When social ills take over the best time of day
When the quiet of night becomes a time for perverted minds
To roll out their game
This is the time when poets come out and play
For the voice of a poet and his words are not his
But that of those who cannot speak
Those who are silenced by fear,
Gripped by powerful hands of a giant that is inequity
We see their lips not moving but we hear the whispers
They speak NOT
But they whisper with their eyes
And when we hear them
That's when we poets come out and play

The poet is asleep only when equality blanket his dreams
But his pillow grow thorns and spikes
In the wake of inequity
His sleep time is perpetually haunted by nightmares
Instigated by silent screams of the lambs
The playground of a poet is set
When reveries of his people are choked
By the hand of a cheerful oppressor
He whom nowadays cannot be identified
Only by the colour of his skin
For he masquarades in shades of colours of the sand
And speaks in a language we suckled from our mothers' breasts

These are the times when poets come out and play
When what troubles the night
Haunts the living hours of day
When our fertile soil is poisoned by our own bitter tears
And trouble is nolonger at bay
When our own shadows plot against us
As they relentlesly follow us
They don't speak but we can hear their voices
After all we are their masters
We feed their purpose, their reason for being
We are the pinacle of their existence
We are the reason why they are here
And now they use us as stepping stones to get ahead
But our cries fall not on deaf ears my people
Like a wild mating call, they summon the poets
And they poets come out and play
Yes! It is in times like these
When we poets come out and play