History Teaches Us Nothing

The seeds of war

Lay dormant in the

Crucible of history…

Seething, breathing-

Waiting for the

Spring of discontent for

The grapes of wrath to bear.

And all across

God’s green hectares

People of goodwill

Caught in the throes

Of the twin enterprise

Of commerce and politics

Awoke to the gloom & doom

Of bombs raining over Kosovo.

         

Beyond the premise

Of rational discourse

And intended tidings…

The cooing lullabies

Of the lady dove,

 Strangely lured vultures

To the bounty of war.

 

Still in the rounding hours

Years and years hence I know

That the future broods

Would know this fate….

Like those of holocaust past-

Grim reminder that

History teaches us nothing.

      

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi©

I wrote this poem in 1998 in the wake of the Kosovo war after viewing the horrors of war and the refugee crisis the ensued. I made a grim prediction in the poem that we will see  similar human tragedy in the future. Since then we've seen war in Congo and now the Syrian war with millions of refugees fleeing to Europe. Hence are we humans doomed to make the same mistakes .......thus the my proclamation " HISTORY TEACHES US NOTHING"

The Triumph Of Will Above Grim Fate

A river speaks in many tones;

though shy, and reticent at birth

like a  muse deciphering codes 

and probing depths with easy ploy

of such grit and muted grace , 

lies  valor that knows no bounds.

In the throes of arduous flow

tricked by cascades, rapids
and boulder crests - he roars

and foams in gargling tones…..

as if on sputum yet he chokes.

This sound of liquid thunder folks,

 is the voice, of determination.

Having gnawed on rocks

with steely grace……

gaining girth from bank to bank-

engulfing plains and errant groves,
in full embrace of the open sea -

the old man hums enraptured psalms 

  of hope, affirming thus -

 the triumph of will, above grim fate.

By

 Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Ballard Of The Exiled Sun

Oh morning sun why wait so long

And let the somber veil persist?

Our promise ribbon drapes the sky

That with  fondest love was stitched;

I’m waiting along the country mile

Oh morning sun to see you smile….

Don’t tarry long, don’t tarry long.

Oh mother, mother, mother dear!

I’ve heard your whimpers in the rain

Your heaving bosom knows the pain;

A friendly token is on its way

To chase the shadows from your heart-

Just hold on for another night.

Time is a river that runs its course

Heedless to haste or lingering sighs;
And love is the current beneath  the tow
easing the river's seaward flow.
Oh mother, mother, mother dear

Like a river, I'm coming to you.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Of Mules And Men

" Dilemme existentielle "

Is there pride left In a mule
who the burdens of men
has mutely borne?


Though he may balk or kick
when wrongly stroked
or falter in the wake
of a gurgling stream
still when called
or coaxed to serve,
our wares he bears,
 with saintly grace;
like one whose calling, alas has found.

Leroi was a working man
He worked real hard
but his time was short -
for he had his bills and mouths to feed
he worked himself to an early grave!

Is there another hell for Leroi
when the one that grilled his life
 to him was willed at birth ?
For his soul's relief, God please forbid-
For the man you made, is not a mule.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Too late

Stray bullet whistling by
Agent of hate and bravado:
Lost, yet with deadly aim
Son of a gun -
You sullen heart...
Look what you've done !



Why hide your face
Or seek the hills
Upon your awful hitch ?
Oh how the mascots
Lap your heels -
And you, in dread
A ruse or grace
You now  implore....
To shirk the wrath
Of vengeful eyes.

Was it the gun, or hand at fault
In this awful game or ploy
Of brutishness?
Or was it your pain your hurt
Knotted within and bottled up?
Questions abound for  all of us
Yet onto you confer no lease
Of wantonness !

Too late my friend , your hand is played
The chastely bounty lies in wake - and
Not a ruse or wand , can blot your trace.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi © 

The Heart Of A Poet

While the pride of of tinsel town
In their flare and liberal quests
aspire to fame and gilded plaques
Who in earnest covet  applause
long after the bright lights fade -
within whose ranks and kindred 
fold , life is tallied up by the tab.

Not so for the soulful bard -
mystic seeker of unfathomed wit
to whom laurels and tinsels bear no charm;
For what the spirit yearns is a quest apart
and onto chosen deities such biddings hark.
How blessed my lot to bear the mark !


Thus in the heart of hearts of space -
the den; where the genie laid her egg,
there, in cloistered hours of days
while amblers sip their vices on ice,
in the dim, I toil in verse and prose-
plucking the void for anointed words
to reel my thoughts from airy heights.

And when from furrowed brow
through smiling plume,
my thoughts on parchment  flow-
Only the heart of a Poet would find
in such a modest tryst......
a thrill so deep to keep or share.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Moments

Moments, ever so fleeting

Like shadows in the dark....

Leave impressions etched in stone.

Moments of bliss -moments of ecstasy...

Moments of sorrow - moments of pain

Brewing emotions that wrench the heart.

Moments, like an ever rolling stream

Transport us through time and space....

In this transient journey called life;

Moments of quiet contemplation....

Of first steps and giant leaps -

Moments of despair and confusion

Of the signs on every mile-post.

Moments, like the colors of the rainbow-

Blue, green, red and yellow....

Cast a shade on the picture we paint.

With every brush stroke

Leave your mark.......

Moment, by moment, by moment -

Quilting masterfully

A bright and radiant tomorrow.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Long Before The Sunset Of My Life

"Nirvana Sunset"

Magic canvas in amber glow….

Cicada symphony in the key of life

Dancing fire flies all aglow –

Such is the radiance of a fading day.

Beauty and splendor – yes indeed!

To the mortal being a notion to heed

Such lessons in majesty, I must imbibe...

That my golden years

May be beautiful just the same.

In the prime of life I pledge –

That each morning’s breathe inspire

Golden acts born of pastel thoughts….

That a little beacon may I become

Guiding lost souls onto the light

Long before the sun set of my life.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

A Lease Of Lore

Onto the seekers, he gave his word

As to knowledge, its tenets and such

That understanding begets a charge

a lease of lore - and keenness thereof
For the foolish mane so to shed.

Now hail you scions of Socrates

To whom his don bequeathed;

Bid not your laurels beguile your wit

Nor dim your hunkering souls.

Yet if need of comic mirth

And your fancies so concur,

Crash the knit-wit blooper fair

watch dupes of age cavorting glee

 auction their stock for token bits

Just to ride the Ferris wheel.

And you ,birthed not of haughty stock

The foregoing you must abhor-

For knowledge bears not

Fruits of covetousness;

Let noblesse your fledgling crowns adorn.

                                                  

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

PAIN

       
 

That which at a moment's pulse

Would thwart the will, and bid it

Wish or seek the tyrant's hand

While tinsels and plums rot in vain.

Who feels it knows - when smiles turn to brine...

And  scowls  the anguished port would drape

Where from the sun in haste had set  adrift .

Of different shades and tones confirmed:

The sudden stitch - the jab - the stab.....

The lazy rodent gnawing the trunk!

Oh how the maiden she buckles so

While the fruit of life she bears,

And the crowns of men anointed thus

With a load of daily cares!
Though some the bewitching hand may rile-

For life's entangled web of woes,

The bane of such to one repose,

Who at the creeper's behest, to sin conspired

And the evil eye forth no shame would know;

Her unyielding aspect, a constant foe

Rattling cages, bruising souls ;

Our charms and potions  rendered naught-

The vilest of which no peace accords!

Yet to the faithful succor brims, and hope abides

To all who the promised rapture await

When all that was written will come to pass.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Patience

  

Great sentient muse, thy virtues we seek:

May we with temperance course through life

Not like the cold tempestuous sea-

That breaks and foam and curse in strife;

But through prayer and chastity be like Job

Who in temptation eschewed blasphemy.

What beauteous art thy hands have wrought….

Earth wind and fire at your behest

Did in time conceive such vaunted works

Of which with reverent due, our mouths attest.

Oh patience! Thou who from faith ensued;

Wring from us all impulsive strains -

That with forbearance, may we endure

With stalwart hope, our quest for eternal bliss.

 

                   By

         Hope Kalé Ewusi©

Coming Out Of The Dark

" The examined life "

I’ve plowed red earth
With the might of a dozen oxen….
Scattered my grains on glistening dew;
The reaper inquires in my stead-
How does one count to twelve….
When one is missing from the grid?
　
Dark nights and checkered dawns
Have I of lately known……
Danced on the razor’s edge,

Barely holding on-
What kept me from tipping?
　
The masquerade has come and gone...
And I too, must move along;
Broken clay pots seldom mend….
So I’m picking up the drift woods
Of by gone tides;

　

I’ll make myself a happy fire
And feast upon its crimson eggs-
Onto new trails the ashes spread

This token oblation …….
My slumbering cocoon quickened thus;
Brand new butterfly – watch me soar.　
　
By   Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Keg Of Mystery

            

Above the hatches the regent retreats

His dwindling radiance in vain resists

The taunting twilight’s beknighted sway

Who descending, casts abroad in shades of gray

A call to sundry folks their steeds to rein.

While some hearts may gloat with striven gain

Those that brood and sag beneath life’s strain

Pray they find in night’s alluring scroll

A friendly shawl to shield their souls.

Still there is a keg of mystery yet untold-

How greenery sprouts, and flower buds unfold

And tendrils leap the void to grab a stake-

Deep in the night for goodness sake

While yet we sleep, and dream of morning’s wake.

By

Hope Kalé Ewusi©