League Day 6; JOSIAH AKPAN vs MOHAMMED SHAMS-DEEN

Right now, JOSIAH Akpan will be Looking straight into the eye of MOHAMMED SHAMS-DEEN, as they'll both be dropping words on the theme; POVERTY.. Enjoy!


NOTE;
1) The judges decision takes 70% of the judgement while well wishes and lovers of poetry votes takes 30%.

2) Upon no circumstance must any of the above mentioned poets vote.

3) The contestants are urged to invite friends to vite for them using the commentsection of this post. No rule exempts you from canvassing for votes.

5) Voting lasts for 18 hours from commencement of Duel.

6) Vote using I VOTE POEM 1 or I VOTE POEM 2

7) Results would be uploaded briefly after the closure of votes.

Good luck to the wordlords.. LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!

THEME: POVERTY

MOHAMMED SHAMS-DEEN

Title; Artificial Paupers

Tongues are charred paths

That mop rusted teeth with dry saliva.

Ribs form ladders

Bitten by fags of famine

For flesh leave bodies to turn 2D frames

Shirts, intertwined laces

Contorting in the air.

Two holes like Madagascar maps

Lost at back of a short

that fails its grips

From a body without waist.

Blanched faces grim:

Who will grin

When the belly boils without water?

But thirst amid rivers are decree

From the gods of greed

And gods who are descendants of doom

Turning tribes against tribes

Lacerating the wings of daring dreams

Through the powers of public purse.

How do we grow

When we borrow with noose on our necks

For luxury?

How can we be contented

When we milk us to pawn a penny

And buy our milk with pennies?

How can we avert strictures of rainy days

When we empty barns to feed funerals?

How do we hatch

When snakes before pulpits drink our eggs? 

How do we sigh well

When our skulls are sapped of remedies 

By our lips that vow

Never to leave pills and folded fires?

We only sit beneath baobabs

Who shadow our lame selves

To sing the rags our years.

Mohammed Shamsu-Deen

JOSIAH AKPAN

Title; POVERTY

I saw an emaciated figure walk up to me
With tears cascading down his pale face
A face hanging on a piece of thread
His body was a showroom of ribs
It was as though his flesh had been rusticated from life, for life!!!
"Hey boy, why do you weep" I asked
As though his words could tell a better tale than the 3D image I saw.
As though I could not understand the language his body spoke.


The Boy: I have asked my Mum, why?
I did not ask her why I have to wear same tattered clothes 
I did not ask her why my stomach receives a guest just once a day
I am used to water that soaks the room at the slightest drizzle
I did not ask why I was sent packing from school
With my teachers cane tattooed over my body
I have not asked...and I will not!!!
I will not ask why my only younger brother died in such gruelling pain
As though he was being chased to the comforting hands of death
I will not ask why the image I see staring at me from the mirror
Looks like the creatures that chase me 
When I close my eyes to sleep
I have not asked....and I shall not!!!

I only ask, "When will it end"
Sir, can you tell?

Goodluck bards!