Storymoja

Celebrating East African Writing!

Your House

Written by David Ooko

Whatever my wish

I know you are coming

When you get to the door? Don’t knock;

Don’t bother to take off your shoes

When you walk in? Take your time at the stoup;

Wash your hands and rinse the froth of your last smoke,

The residue of your last meal.

You are free to pour the Holy water out;

Replace it with the tears of your joy,

Your amused contempt and pity at this living I’m bound for

Then with your wet finger draw the Nazi emblem on the door

Before you dry your hands with the helm of my frock;

And grab the incense thurible to warm your fingers;

And tear off my white collar to make yourself a bowtie

For the cocktail of Holy communion

Turn my god into a toy; Paint his lips red,

Shave his eyebrows then draw them back

Then take the offering basket, wear it a hat on your head

And smile sinister, back at the now-knowing congregation

Condemning my age; commending your novelty.

This is your house; and everything in it

If it isn’t you can own it as so you have

Just since your whim willed it

©David Ooko

This poem is part of the April 4th 2011 Freedom Poetry Competition. You have until April 29th 2011 to read and vote for it. Please comment and indicate your opinion of the poem on a scale of 1 to 5.

1 – VERY WEAK

2 – POOR

3 – OK

4 – GOOD

5 – AMAZING!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 15,817 other followers

%d bloggers like this: