Victor Ebenezer

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Victor Ebenezer
Saturday 1 January 2022

Fatherhood

I'm from where men rise with dawn and find their strength

Where sons plant their feet and gulp from deep wells

A place where fathers break cola according to the size of their seeds

He pours wine and serves the spirits of life and good fortune

Even the dark fairies will drink and get drunk and ignore their ill intents

Thus, our fathers launch the sons as arrows against the mark


I'm from where men rise and show their sons the way of the elders

But why? How could time turn to be a foe of all that's fair?

Sacred stools now stand vacuous because no butts to kiss the plank

Father's hut grows cold and desolate because no fire to allure the flies

What name do you lend the spell that grabs manhood from a man?

And his children become the sport that amuse the world at the square


Real men feed their gun and dump a sac on a son of their own loins

He lures him nearer to the white chalk and to the tinkling whispers

Through the rattling floor he leads him like a good herder

Showing him why the eagle refrains from a feast not made by its talons

I'm from where men laugh as they embrace and kiss with death

For the sons plant their feet and gulp from deep well




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