Skip to main content

Black Panther - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu


POEM 85: BLACK PANTHER

He is always afraid,
Looking over his shoulder.
Envied by fellow slaves
Hated by his master. 
Tormented at whim.
He sometimes wonder 
What killed his spirit?
Who stole his origin?
Who retold his story?
Yet, he hopes to grow fangs
and prey on his master

He dreams of freedom
though freedom's elusive.
Or perhaps an Illusion
for at every turn it fades.
Lost in a cloud of smokes
Lost all shades of hope.
Imprisoned in a mental jail
Where he gyms only to wishes.
Growing mental biceps 
to counter their lies.
Building mental resistance
to ambush their pranks.
Nurturing divine wrath
Stalling and waiting for dawn
A dawn of hope
When his grown claws
Shall tear the Master's flesh.
But will it ever come?

Though destitute, 
Alone, shackled to a nightmare
that plagues his days with uncertainties.
Chained with loose bands of fear,
He's slowly beating back fear.
For freedom he pants
from the crescent and star.
But just above the hills
Is another master who bleeds
From the head
The hands
The feet
And oh, look! The side bleeds too.
Promised of salvation and life eternal
But black panther would none of this.
Leave his present master 
And be shackled by another?
There is no escape from this!
Must he always have a master?
Can't he sail his ship?

Freedom is Illusion
When the hunted gets a new master.
Until the lion owns the story of the hunt, 
the hunter will always profit.
Black panther shall break free
From crescent and stars
Bearing no Yiddish cross 
As symbol of freedom.
Until then, as prey and the bait
he lies in wait
Forever, maybe.


#365DaysOfPoetry
#Pengician
#SSA
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.  "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies"  "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"  After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"  "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj
Post a Comment
Read more

Celebrating the “father of modern African literature”: Chinua Achebe

Today I join Google to celebrate Chinua Achebe's 87th birthday. Chinua is the father of modern African literature who with literature has touched many lives. Chinua Achebe was one of the greatest African writers of his generation. On what would have been his 87th birthday if he was alive, Google is paying its respects to Chinua Achebe on its homepage. Go to Google.com to view the doddle. Unarguably, Achebe’s influence on African literature is inestimable. He’s widely known to be the “father of modern African literature” with novels which projected Nigerian and African culture globally at a time when much of the continent was freshly free from the chains of colonialism. Chinua Achebe passed away March 2013 in the United States of America at the age of 82. The literary icon's journey to literary greatness started with ' Things Fall Apart ', which was his first book. It was released nearly 60 years ago in 1958 and regarded as one of the most widely read books in Africa.  ...
Post a Comment
Read more