Wednesday, 6 June 2012


when the swelling waves of the lake mutinied,
brow-beating thunder, rumbling skies added to the frenzy
in its maze catching the lethargic fishermen by surprise.

of what lay hidden in those Lake Victoria waters,
no soul knew; of what the lake floor spread across
with unsatiating appetite for human blood, no soul
knew; caught up in the fish net was Poseidon’s spirit
the fishermen drew it up, up, up
eish yawa, fish wasn’t that heavy omera.

it was a trident, but no one saw it
it was the enraged Poseidon, but no one knew him.

that was 1867, but why should it matter
the tridents flew into men’s heads
the son of Cronus and Rhea was on a war path
tale has it that the fishermen’s bodies were bloodless
and are buried on the floor of Lake Victoria
right at Poseidon’s shrine.

o, Poseidon,
what irked you so much that year?
was it your brother Zeus or Athena, the goddess of war?
but why, Poseidon, the god of earthquakes, did you spread
your wrath to these remotest parts, and to lakes, to boot?


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