Saturday, 30 April 2011

Language Conversation (II)

Men pride themselves of unity
Wrong. The miracle of homogeneity
Lies in a coherent sentence
Subjects rule in Sentence Republic
In Man Republic subjects are slaves, the ruled
Sometimes they are loud, sometimes not so
In Sentence-speak, we say active and passive
But in Man Republic loud is quashed
Can man beat Subject-Verb agreement?
Can man outdo dovetailed sentences?

They don’t discriminate
In Sentence Republic, equal parts
Take their rightful positions
Whether they be subjects, verbs,
Adverbs, objects
In Man Republic they have to enshrine
Them in their constitutions
And still despise persons with disability
Have commas and colons been discriminated?
I ask, have they been relegated in Sentence Republic?

In Sentence Republic
It is treason to plagiarize
Though they be one nation
The subjects need their cultural
Identity intact, sacrosanct
It is all that talk for indigenous peoples
But in Man Republic, they pillage, they loot
With reckless abandon, even life in hospitals
Is bought, the poor die everyday
Their politicians plagiarize falsehood
Peddle them to human conscience
They are the same old lies, who cares
About creativity
Let bridges be built where there are no rivers
Let abattoirs be built smack in the middle of farms
Debate the bills, pass the laws, blah blah blah

In Sentence Republic
Ideas are a national treasure
Conserved in some registry of
Intangible cultural assets
To be refined for a bigger cause
Tis rewarded hundred-fold
But in Man Republic
Empty talk is well identified
Recognised, rewarded
And maybe conserved
In the dry winds of his
Leeward side of development
O! This Man Republic!

In Sentence Republic
There is no sin, no grave an offence
Which can’t be forgiven
Misspelt subjects are righted
Misplaced verbs shifted
Incoherent sentences corrected
But in Man Republic
Even upon a ‘Not-guilty’ verdict
The same accusing glances burn
Rehabilitated criminals are pariahs
Forgiveness is some luxury
The heart is not keen to spend on
So, in the Republic, their men
Walk with poisoned hearts
And the baggage of loathe
Their eyes dart this way that way
Unable to have a fixed stare
Because of this guilt
O! the folly of Man Republic!

C) Lorot Salem 2011


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