The Battle
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Overtaking fugitives
A rust-red swarm of loausts
Dine off grains
Quick proboscis
Find the coolers
Soon the wells are dry
Presumptuous eaves
Of safety,hang stark
Only this shelter for
Returning men
This filigree
Offoliage veins
Lets in the moon's
Leprous sneer
Truth peeps in
On every side
Welcomes the wind
From frightened men
Ah but his hands cleave frenetic
To the jig! Prestidigitator god midst head
And limb,they poise a full eternity
And falling,bounce to rare wave-lengths
His sword possesses all
There are air-paths unknown to human sight
Arabesques of light,a keen maze where all
Who seek strategic outlets find
O Iron One
The shortest cut
Storms strain his mighty chest,his nipples
Glow with blackness,from hair-roots
Spit black jets of flames.
Tall he rises to the hills
His head a rain-cloud has eclipsed the sun
His nostrils blow visible
Exhalations as twin-flues through clouds
There are myriad lesser motes in fight
And leaping mists.
Never to his ears,
Never to him comes the cry of men
In sweet lather of death.
Lord of all witches,divinc hunter
Your men Ogun,your men!
His sword an outer crescent of the sun
No cye can follow it,no breath draws
In wake of burning vapour.Still they cry
Your men Ogun!Your men!
This blade he forged,its progress
Never falters,rivulets on it so swift
The blood forgets to clot
There are falling ears of corn
And ripe melons tumble from the heads Of noisy women,crying
Lust-blind god,gore-drunk Hunter
Monster deity,you destroy your men!
He strides sweat encrusted
Bristles on risen tendons
Porcupine and barbed.
Again he turns
Into his men,a butcher's axe
Rises and sinks
Bchind it,a guest no one
Can recall.
Where do we seck him,they asked:
Where confcit rages,where sweat
Is torrents of rain,where clear springs
Of blood fill one with longing
As the rush of wine
So there they sought
And there they find him
And youth that came to teeth on the encounter?
What greater boon for the Hedgeling!
The wings Of a god enclose him wholly,there is
No room for air
Smothered in wind-deafness
Blinded in light-paths of suns
There are air-beans unfelt by human breath
Unseen by sight,intangible.
Whose throat Draws breath in a god's preserve
Breathes the heart of fire
Murderer,stay your iron hand Your men lie slain -Cannibal!
Ay,ring summons on the deafened god
His fingers sow red earth.
His being incarnate Bathes in carnage,anoints godhead
In carnage
To bring a god to supper is devout,yet
A wise host keeps his distance till
The Spirit One has dined his fill.
What mortal Brands a platter with an awesome name,
Or feeds him morscls choice without
Gauntlets of iron.
A human feast
Is indifferent morsel to a god.
A lethal arc
Completes full circle
Unsheathed
The other half
Offire
Incinerates
All subterfuge
Enthrones
The fatal variant
The rodent's nose explored the shadows
Found sweat and gangrene
Smell the same to a skin tailor.
Beyond A prayer for sunshine,what interest
Does a stagnant pool pretend
To a river in flood:
The rams
Are gathered to the stream
For blessing
Hour of prayer
And curved horns curve
Into hearts of the faithful
The priest
Cleansed his fingers
In new springs
And drank.
All routes led
To the sacrificial knife
That dawn
On the plains of prayer
Aflat stream
And new springs
All prayers were one
To theIron One
Let each seek wisdom where he can,life's
Puppetry creaks round me hourly
Trunks and motions in masquerade grotesques
Post-mortem is for quacks and chroniclers
Who failed at divination
Esu,my little prince of games sat
On his head,and he was deaf to identifying Cries.
Too late came warning that a god
Is still a god to men,and men are one
When knowledge comes,of death.
And they were cast adrift,without
Direction for new prayers,their cry
For partial succour brought a total hand
That smothered life on crimson plains
With too much answering
The royal baobab
Dances with the head alone
To a wind's possession
Who has no roots
In earth
Deep in rock-chambers...
Its eardrops
Makes a wine-cup
Ofmy sheltering head
When the wind insists
Who has no root
In earth
Flee the shelter
Ofa god possessed
Light filled me then,intruder though
I watched a god's excorsis;clearly
The blasphemy of my humanity rose accusatory
In my ears,and understanding came
Of a fatal condemnation
And in that moment broke his crust of separation
And the blood-scales of his eyes.
A wind's insinuation
Lowered his arm,scattering blood-fogs;revealed
The vessel that was singly cast,crepitate
In orphan sherds.
He recognised the pattern of the spinning rock
And Passion slowly yielded to remorse
Melted then the wine-logged eyes,embers
No gourd ever assuaged,kernels fire-red
On blacksmith tongs.
A god knows no comforter
And I am not prone to pity.Divine outcast
And your captains bold:
Did not your primal science reave discs
Of light,a keen maze for pupils of the forge?
Too late for joy,the Hunter stayed his hand
The chute of truth opened from red furnaces
And Ogun stayed his hand
Truth,a late dawn,
Life,the two-cowrie change of the dealer
In trinkets lay about him in broken threads
Oh the squirrel ran up an iroko tree
And the hunter's chase
Was ended.
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