Featured Articles

At Gunpoint


check point

At gunpoint, they entered the scene…

An idyllic picture of city serenity,

Terrorist cells; Hezbollahs, Talibans,

They lay up ambushes with structures of parapets,

in the heat of the day,

Dressed as the night with automatics slung over shoulder blades,

Their appearance as chameleon beguiles their true intention

A percolating presence that stood as a puddle;

but now the cesspool at the brink of swallowing us,

We hear a rhythm of love in phoney speeches like,

‘we are your friend’

Yet if you listened close enough; these are the drumbeat of war,

A state of emergency; marching boots,

Squeezing live triggers with smoking nozzles pointed in our puzzled faces,

Splashes of red paints of death over falling bodies,

Vanishing breadwinners piling like hacked trees,

Bullet ridden bodies lifeless in the scorching sun,

While the city continues to live,

Resting on the blood of the blameless,

Their needless sacrifice at the hands of the gatekeepers,

The sworn templars; the enemy of the state,


At Gunpoint they entered the scene,

Brandishing their rod of death like pirates in the creeks; in speedy 4 x 4,

And their petty talks and hooded intentions,

Frustrating your sense of being when they extort your livelihood;

like caterpillars devouring green leaves,

Yet any impulse of resistance is a count charge;Not against the state; No!

A crime; an excuse for self-aggrandisement,

So they resist to show whose boss?

Till our backs hit the base of wailing caskets,

In the midst of surviving parents, wives and children,

So we fake smile; learn to run faster,

Stutter at their omnipresence and appease them with the #20 roger,

Classic conditioning,

Lest our blood runs freely through the street corners; in propitiation of the demigods.

Know this though,

The love of life;

the direct synonym of the fear of their presence,

’til we turned inside out in our minds like asylums,

Racing even faster,

Smiling when nothing sounds funny,

Itching all over for that roger #20,

Now and forever even without their nightly ominous presence,

In the absence of…at gunpoint.

Writer Credit: Mayowa Shobo

Picture Credit: Google

Categories: Featured Articles

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s