ourculture
LET THE SLEEPING DOG LIE
Stop, stop!
Stop throwing stones, young man!
Let the sleeping dog lie.
Let her be! Yes!
Let her dream of a place better than sphere. I don’t need to tell it but sphere is in coarse.
Let her alone, let her enjoy the hyperbole of her dream.
Or have you no eyes huh? Have you no eyes to see the artistic hallmark of her tragedy?
Her hairy skin engulfing in her ribs, a poke will definitely puncture a hole. Her head of a rock structure but so light like a feather, she must suffer a great headache that nothing but food can cure.
Even a layman will suppose vividly and scream, “yes! She is nigh to her demise, definitely!” So pick up your act lil teen and quit acting like a brainless adolescent.
Take a look closely at the fouls of the land, see, they no longer find grains to pick from the dumping ground talk less of a dog with a gallon of stomach full of thousand soldiers.
But shall we blame the poor thing of her agony? The miles she walked in search of food. The stones and nylons she smelled only to realise it’s no food. The poop she eats just to keep her status as a survivor.
She must be sure weary via how she yawn and wander around her plate hoping for bones, but her owner is poor enough to be selfish for a bowl of soup.
Look at her, she has lost her strength; the mighty strength she uses to chase away lizards from his owner’s territory. Now she will see with her eyes lizards running from
west to the east, laughing at her feebleness.
Let not talk about thousands she hears, millions of ear’s food laughing and joking at every corner in the air; yesterday her owner and his neighbor talked about politics like they do every indigo evening. The gentlemen sprawled on a couch, drinking beer and whining, saying “who shall save us from th flesh (tani yóo gbàwá lówóo eran ara wa),” then a loud laughter. Eventually, they always end up talking about the political decay of the country, with them saying, if I can recall;
‘Hmm, friend, you know our country is nothing but a blessed country, she is richly blessed. A bare truth we tend to toss. She is like a dame with hundred twats bond to be fruitful at each hole. Hmm, we are just passing through a difficult time. You know, our leaders are seriously trying too, just we may not see vividly but at least we can help them visualise, I think we just need to give them space to breathe and stop censuring their ass. I’m sure that you are not ignorant that this nation is but the Giant of Afrika.’
‘Hmm, a giant nation indeed. But for how long, just how long shall we sit in the comfort belt of ignorance and thole? Singing praises of how great and blessed the nation and her leadership is, hmm. Isn’t it the same nation sitting on the aptness of genocide? With leaders begift with artful mouth — painting fake or perhaps disguised memorandums. And citizens with political prejudice, most ignorant of their basic rights and civil liberty in our so-called democratic institution. Can’t you see, my friend, leaders with anergy spirit in them, they good actors — look at them scratching their beards as their puppet write them sophistry. The changes (antipodal) they preach; war, corruption, misuse of power, oppression of the poor, let the people bask in blood, make little among them sycophant and pay them like beggars and let us, the rich get richer while the poor gets poorer. Shall we say we are fools as we are opium to our tribulations? They rule like a God and no soul to combat them but we all grumble underneath our roof. But is it true that we reap what you sow? Because it is heaven for them and hell we live. But my dear, if this is the giant you speak of, then I shall hope you mean Goliath. And as the story, we might fall.’
But then, they are just people of foolishness and encyclopedias, throwing stones of words to the wall, conversations that only roam about like an enigma in their compound and ends with anger and a shake of head, maybe a little prayer too “may God help us.”
But lo the dog lay all day, she never kvetch nor toss her loyalty, because what the picture paints democracy is obviously clear, “speak behind the screen ye people of lower class.”
Poor thing, she was beaten yesterday for stealing a lump of Àmàlà from the third house near chief koko’s house.
So, before your stone hits her dying skin that is fighting her bones, you either go pack your leftover and give her or go your damn way and let the sleeping dog her space in this dying world!
