Grandpa, I have seen a long black snake across our land

With a huge corde on it

Pakjin    Pakjin    Pakjin

Is the voice of sound it makes

Its breathe is smoke and fire

I don’t know where it comes from nor where it goes

But cataclysmic;

it made a halt

And i saw

Out from it came a man with sinister looks

His one hand was holding a loaded machine gun

With fingers at the trigger

While the other using to snuff up a tobacco.

He wore a metal over with heavy boots

And head covered under a broad-rimmed black hat

Standing like a scout on a parade.


I lingered before he waved to the corde

That responded with a loud noise, poooh

Gawking at it as it disappeared.

Conjured, grandpa?

I think it is war

They want to take up our land

Lets mend our bows

Lets sharpen our arrows and make them ready!

By cidni cinite Posted in poems Tagged

3 comments on “FOREIGN

  1. A poem telling warning Africans to be alert during the old days as the colonizers were coming. Like in Kenya, they started with building the railway and slowly they got into possession of the whole land.

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