Fire: Easter Fire!

Poems

(By Temesgn Kebede, 29 April 2021) –

Fire: Easter Fire!

A Dionysian beast to be born ever,
Ought I curse or display fanfare
For coming back here!
Where you had left nothing to spare!
Fire for breakfast
Time for launch
You whiplash the air;
Fire for dinner
Fire for night sleep
Fire for the rash hour;
Fire for prayer
Fire for days work;
Fire from heaven
Fire from hell
Fire from above
Fire from the womb of the Earth
Tigray smelt
And compressed like never
Igneous is all left for a cover;
Embedded with pure sliver
Gold, emerald, turquoise and diamond;
The merchants of the market east and west
Clamour to devour;
Coesuses to emerge!

Tigray is a Dragon spiting fire;
Anthropomorphic looking spiders
Spewing fire,
Fire spiting fire
Sticking out tongues testing torrid air.

I fear, this fire,
Has demolish my shelter,
On a canopy, I once built higher.

I ran offshore
Still crashed after – fire

Surfing on water,
Seeking help, I cannot raise my voice anymore –
To be heard -tourbillion, tohubohu fire,
Dressed in vermilion, majestic colour,
Striding on land,
Flying in air
Sizzling and dancing on the surface of water,
No matter how hard I flutter,
With friable limbs that I have to stir clear,
I could not be able to cope, I fear.

I am far off shore beyond the point of return,
Insideout I have began to burn

Will I survive?
Or will I perish?
Who could the answer replenish?

I gaze through the blaze
Everything in front is razed!

From Ash Wednesday
To Eastern Saturday,
White diaphanous sarong clad;
Round my shoulders for a dress;
Nothing crossed my gullet,
To wet,
I wept,
That you were made to suffer
And cursed those who fixed you on a wooden cross.

And upon resurrection: hallelujah,
I praised the Lord.
As a matter of tenet,
I practice abstinence,
Invariably, I read your testament;
And in return what do I get?
– Fire that eats fire,
That walks on land,
Dances on air
Burns on the surface of water.
And consumes my mind like maggots!

I live on no land,
Nor Am I arboreal –
I do not patrol the skies,
I do not have drones,
The Arabs now command
Likewise, I do not fancy the water,
I am not a boatman
I do not like eating amphibians!

To my aversion,
Now I am far off the shores,
Cry for help try as I might,
But I may not be able to get.
Where I find myself afloat
It is freezing cold,
But at the same time
Insufferably hot.
And in between the lot,
I am torn apart.

Oh! Lord, lo and behold
It is gonna devour my soul
A place I allowed only you to dwell
With its forecourt secured and sealed.
Alas, with the vanity case (soul) demised
Fear, for Christ sake Lord, it’s gonna eat your faith.

If you preserve your faith from the wrath
It gonna be a swagman –
A wanderer with no abode

Oh, Father, You too is Gonna eaten beware!!
I know the demon too won’t be spared.
But who cares if he expires
Comeuppance on the slate,
That had come too late.
But who wears as an attair,
Who plays with fire,
Only those whose dorsal is
Made of flatten tyre!

 

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