My Father's Poetry

These two are my dad's poems from 1990. He may not exactly say he is a poet but Compromise: he is a poet. 

Waiting To Cross
Nairobi, August 12, 1990

We ventured into the forest
We hopefully stayed in the forest
Wild tests withstood wilfully

We yearned dearly for the taste across
On our courage clearly leaned
Torrential river to brave crossing

We dreaded the torrents
A river course we dreaded
As we trod the wilderness

But we dared trudge on
As, on a trying course we tried on
For a just cause it was.

We braced ourselves across to cross
But it flowed with many a man
As we looked to the blessings yonder

Across I stand
Brace myself: searching

What a price, Africa
For less the vantage point across
Yet into a jungle, the labyrinth
For till we refuse refugee to create
The crossing shall many cross
Who stand transfixed at the crosscurrents. 

The Genesis Of Exile
Nairobi, July 1, 1990

In the maternity ward,
The first war is battled -
A baby is born crying
In Oblivion of its prophecy
Terse prophesy of tears
Prophecy of human essence
Rarely is it reckoned
That man's essence is tear-bound
Divinity's prescribed condemnation
Subconsciously apprehended -
The heritage of Adam and Eve.
The divine curse -
The genesis of exile to suffer
As pronounced in the wrathful
Flush out from the cradle  
The "Shamba" of Eden wherein,
Revolt, of lust was mothered,
Tranquility aborted
Future marred. 
Since then, man shambles,
Fumbles and tumbles
Stumbling the labyrinth
Of the tragic-comic wild world, 
Trudging on, yawning
In quenchless thirst fires
Of the scorching sun
In the wilderness we've been thrust. 

In retrospect,
Meanly do we appreciate
The unconscious foresight
In the maternity squeals -
Tears of alienation
Into inherited exile.
Perhaps Rousseau erred
That man "Though born free
Is every where in chains."
Man, nay!
Some man has chains and binds man
In a renewed upsurge of lust,
A new Eden to create for self.
But Rousseau got it right too
For man, chaining or bound
A rubble he is born:
Chained in chains
Chained in the dread of the chained
Till the trip over into yet another exile-
Down for the cold dungeons of cemetery
Into the underworld
Alien to the living
And chained in blurred controversy
Of final destination
To they unprepared
To "Trust and Obey"