A poem written by Muluh Dian Kipat
Moving all in a one footed path , junked and yoked communlike ,
Talking all in but a single code , listing and hearing not as life
Recounts in a numerous tone a lamentation of old .
A collection of many, all, never being the least of adventures,
Paths undertaken by predecessors of his audience
Vividly wide and beautiful yet underneath torn-filled.
As that old voice screaming in the wilderness he seamed to preach
But no one to heed .However, making jest of all advise could all teach
Boldly of their foes . Shall that heal the heat ulcer? Or bring it some
Remedy? Yes dist view not, yet dist thought nor thinks not. .
Our dear watch man not astonished by all that is thought
Listened all. Now the hour hast cone emotions counterfeiting .
Had one told it out ! what a fool innocence now bleeding blemish
Professing regrets and reject injected in perfused rejection.
It’s more even over the binding heads how such a spell came on ?
Who wore it first ? How? Had he…? Doomed to that unusual
Profanes to which only but true profounder can procure the liberty
Why then art though still yoked in that spell of Hem ? Didst the lamb not nullify ?
Where Hems a many ? The olden from chain workers now psyche – clipped
Slaves . It’s not pure that makes it enough . Washing from inward endeavor
Mingled with oneness and ambition void of singleness but coupled faithful heads
Will in all sincerity break this spell .Then now Hem’s blonder could then hereafter
Be some of old once lived thing , sounding more as some imaginary. Unlike
The dinosaurs, even a skeleton for some experiments won’t exist. .
©MULUH DIAN KIPAT
BRIEF SUMMARY FROM THE AUTHOR
This poem presents Africa in a macrocosm microcosm view through a people. They are one people , speaking the same language, ( having the same plights) yet are not ready to work with one another in order to get a solution a to their problems . Their ancestors went through a lot and instead of them listening to life’s teachings based on passed experiences, they apportion blames on others , claiming they could do better in their segregated and feeble corners.
The poem ends by asserting that if only Africa could burry it’s past , work together in unity , honesty and loyalty, what it saw yesterday and sees today (its plights) will in some future time be a fictional tale told across the globe.