Dance not the old dance,
Kill the old step and mill a fresh jig
A new swing for these swinging times
Swoon not to the beauty of the moon
But sadly croon of this fleeting noon
Kill that talk of gracious kings
Who like the colossus strode these lands
Tell me about these babbling monsters
Whose navels their eyes never set a sight
For their bellies brim with our sweat
Sing not of the black curvaceous queens
But gale me with tales of that whore
Whose innocence we gladly stole
Thrusting her into a pool of self loath
Kill that talk of the metre and rhyme
But let me vent my anger in my bent
For it comes not in that sweet pace
But in sharp spasms that rack my heart
Spare me the blue oceans and starry skies
Give me the murky pools and powerless nights,
Hush about the ethereal heavens
Where we shall forever eat and dine
Tell me about my falling hovel
Where I daily starve and struggle…

For this is how we live
And this how we dance

© chrispus kimaru (His Work)