THE DROUGHT

 

8261972-3x2-700x467

Northern Kenya has been facing a severe drought situation. In this poem a fraction of a the suffering of the drought affected is mentioned.

Those hollowed eyes narrate a tale

Of nourishment gone down by the scale

Dual seasonal spells of awaited rains

Have given us a Kenyans too big a fail

 

Rugged yellowy ground now dirty pale

Missing are the vibrant greens that hale

Baringo, Mandera, Marsabit and Turkana

All on gloomy, ugly, dry, withered trails

 

Boreholes broken down to over usage

Many gone silent leaving the body cage

The livestock, the crops and the men

Each heart suffering an unspeakable rage

 

Faced by imminent death that nears

The starved three millions dropped spears

No time left to fight or quarrel anymore

The crop failures made them change gears

 

They call these times a real period of Lent

Looking for aid in food forms and monies spent

Communities have gathered to help their bit

The millions spent are a mere narrow vent

 

The effects of desertification are harshly felt

The climate change, shortage of rain is spelt

Those who reigned supreme when in greens

With malnutrition are weakened and bent

 

The little ones of many no more so gay

With hunger pangs no energy left to play

Walking far and wide in search of water

Eagerly await the Almighty’s clouds to spray

 

A boiling pot on the charcoaled fire

To their lost eyes is hopeful desire

Unbeknownst to the little mind frame

It’s tubers or worse, dying animals on pyre

 

Dried up are all rivers, dams and pans

The drought has appeared in timely spans

That smell of death hangs heavily around

Lake Turkana receded to dryness plans

 

————————————————————————————————————————————————– In The Media:

Published in The Asian Weekly : Edition 345 (31st mar – 06 apr 2017)

 

download (4)taw apr 17.png

 

Advertisements

World Poetry Day

 

21st March: World Poetry Day

Flowing through the pen
Running through the page
Thoughts that take shape
Crooked, rugged, festive
And most times ……
Sensitive word frames
That is poetry my friends
When a feeling is placed
In ink it crawls up mind sleeve
Rolls up, curls up or even
Folded in dainty pleats
The expression of words
That is poetry my friends.
Sikiladi

FullSizeRender

मॉं

 

तेरे आँचल की छांव तले
मॉं अनेकों लाल पले
चाहे छोटे हों या बड़े
तुझको सभ ही लगते भले

ठोकर खाते, गिरते पढ़ते
घबरा जाते जब हम ढर् से
धूल भरा वो तेरा आँचल
सहला जाता मॉं हर ग़म से

अब जो हम परदेस आ बसे
गर्दिशों की धूल तज कर फँसे
याद तेरी मॉं बहुत ही सताए
जब जब घने से बादल बरसे

रहते हैं हम सहमे सहमे से

आँखों से चुपके आँसू बरसे
जब होंठ हमारे मुस्कुराए
आह सी निकल जाती है दिल से

सिकीलधी