Lockdown Poetry Series: Part 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A collaborative poetry series written by New Age Enlightenment about the nationwide famine due to the lockdown.

FAMINE - food insecurity ( in a poor village )
Anguish is amidst the air , as the devastation tears apart a once united nation.
The land grows barren and the waters run quieter due to a fiend named greed.
A newborn baby suckles on his mother's malnourished bosom.
The cows graze unfortunately around the kraal.
Gogo prays extensively for an aiding hand.
A blanket of hunger has been wrapped around the village.
This is a bundle of poverty and in it lies the people's cries.
The sun starts to set and with it the villagers last hopes start to demise.
A wave of darkness creeps upon them continuing this endless plight.
And candles are lit to battle this dire predicament 
Bracing the nation for this day - the day that the coldest night arrives.
My empty hall of a stomach will sing unpleasant melodies throughout this lockdown.
My kin who are already malnutrition(ed) will fall to their knees before the first week ends, the weak will feel their end first.
Eight of us quarantined in this two room shack 
(Ah) my little brother cries in agony as his orchestra hall starts to release heartbreaking tunes,
(What's wrong?) I look him in his red eyes filled with small ponds that are ready to burst.
(Ah) he screams again pinching his eyelids as the ponds are released and they forms two parallel river streams leading down to his cheeks,
("It's only day two", I say to him as a way of comfort) but the violin strings followed by a cello play loud enough for mom to hear it, 
my heart shatters as mom jumps over my sleeping niece on the pothole infested floor to open the gates of cold heaven, the light beams and there's only one chicken thigh left for the eight of us, mom hasn't been to the streets to sell snacks for us to get food tonight.
Flashacks of when the soil was still fertile came rushing back. 
Back when rows of corn lined the field.
Visions of my brother and I running through the field.
The afternoon sun reflecting off of our bald heads.
My mom,hoe in hand,weeding the field.
Somewhere in the distance, came the rumbling of father's tractor.
The rumbling sounded distant yet close.
The rumbling came from my belly. 
And suddenly, the lush and cultivated vegetation vanished.
I was brought back to the harsh reality .
Where I can no longer sell vetkoeks at school.
All movement is restricted.
I can no longer provide for my siblings .

Submitted: April 25, 2020

© Copyright 2021 New Age Enlightenment - The Movement. All rights reserved.

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