Saturday, May 1, 2021






The River God


What an imminent god

Upon the red river blood

That follows its own course

Again and again to its source

Where every loss is a sure win

cast over the vicious wind.


What an immigrant god

Of Tutsi upon waves of black blood

Pouring waves of sinister yellow

Upon Victoria above below

Where broken cries float down

Collected from the dregs of scramble.


The invisible is invincible

Upon the Nile of the crucible

Whose tanks comfort his armpits

And we laugh uncomfortably in sealed pits

Where our screams are soaked out

By sounds of sirens, boots and puffballs.


What an omnispective god

Whose all-seeing eye of pain

Cast out over the yellow land of red

With automatic glaze born again

In our bitter bread of liberty read

Where we're whipped into eloquent silence.


What an omnipresent god

Spread wide upon Savannah plains

With his Orwellian eyeing hands

Laid long, sharp, heavily upon the common

Cast upon the bleeding river into compliance

Where all hideouts lay in surveillance.


What an omnibenevolent god

I shall not want

You make me drink my blood

That forms your interlacustrine lake

Where you breathe fire and breed

In the stirred game of silence.


What an omnificient god

Of the river that spits in the white sea

Your poetic power of excellence,

Who dares stand before your diction?

You renew your tricks each tenure

And again sleep with Victoria at noon.


Ah, what an omnipotent god,

That shits in the mouth of Victoria

And distant seas ripple in fogs

And the singing silence of frogs

Upon the Savannah hills heard

We're mere balls of coiled snails,

Hopping hopelessly from the pits.

© Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe'st, Uganda  🇺🇬




A Night Of Fireflies


Say this is a city


Set upon some dung-hills:


And it underwent metamorphosis:


From a house to a home,


From a home to a village,


From a village to a town


And then to a city of dunghills.




And say these dung-hills


Harbour millions of folks,


And that these folks are rich beggars


Say governed by a tall bald-headed idiot


And so on.




Say a strange squalid wind


Sells sweet fabled-slogans of wealth


And hope in ballot box of bullets.


Night —


Blinding blinking lights


Of wooden-butted fire-breathing fireflies


With metallic nostrils


Laughing blood last.




Night —


A wakeful huge thoughtful


Restless evangelical nightclub


Of moonlit


Black tropical last


At Mvule Hills of Mutesa


Welcoming Stanley


To his reed-ribbed palace.




Night —


Blinking puzzling street lights


Green, yellow-orange, RED


And blood on white-wheeled black tyres!


Of the metallic monsters


Pot-bellied roads humid


Pearls of mud


New and robotic last.




Night —


Famous nude gala


Chilly African virtuous night


Open ulcer mouth lipsticks


Like red pencils dipped in vino;


Shamelessly nude private parts


Not for sale


For sale — squally sulpherous hot last.




Night —


Lukeworm uneasy


Malicious terribly spendid


Callous empty


Entirely long frightful sleepless


Strange lights


Of darkness loom last.




Night —


Swift arrows of darkness


Lustful fitful online


Visibly dark in imported hairs


Extracted from sisal fibres


And the bob-tailed horses


Sorry-looking last.




Night —


Hungry blood and moon-drenched


Red-handed night


Chloric bleak precarious lunar


Wet pelting dung offshore


Extremely sleepless soggy


Ragged unremitting sinister menancing


Imperal fool-hardy last.




Night —


Hallucinatory hysterical hope-filled


Slogans of approaching despair,


Vague movies of refugee blues


Picturesque of gay gala


Owl-hooting night


Attorney – general last.




Night —


Recent wholly foggy


Squealing arm twisting batons


And tear-gas armed wheeled monsters


Sore-eyed blustery lung-plucking


Everlasting scandal last.




Night —


Other demoniac ashen carnival


Lights of night


Sparkling abysmal strenuous


Seriously injured terror-filled


Life-threatening testy night


Sweet-soaked poison


That purifies the political lust


In moon-baked night last.




Night —


The monotonous face on the horde


Queerly long coal


Single dreamlike pumpkin bald-headed


Routine roll-call serial killing


Yellow-pumpkin excretion


In impressive rigged-scientific voting


Underwater last.




Night —


A numb contingent nuptial


Limpid bed-room politics,


Feverish revelatory skimpy shirts


Newly bought rat-eaten rags


Nigh the thigh night fire


With profound zoomed in breasts


Payable public toilets awesome last.




Night —


Upon the naughty-looking dung-hills


Individualistic silent strolling night


Suspicious grimy cynical sick night


Evil ritual acute diarrheal uncommunicative night


Hospital last.




Night —


Dark gloom-festered


Inevitably changing


Velvety sexy night




A never-ending post colonial night


Sweltering with oppression kraal last.




Night —


Lovers of wicked corrugated iron


Upon the dung-hills


The laurel wreath of flowers


Sparkle on the breasts of the loser


Embossed with embroidery


In the yellow-yorked city…


© Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe'st, Uganda 🇺🇬




KABEDOOPONG PIDDO DDIBE'ST is an internationally acclaimed seasoned multi-talented Ugandan born poet, lyricist, visual and aural artist, short-story writer, dramatist, folktale-teller, folksong-singer and dancer, cultural and literary activist, editor, teacher and peasant – born and bred in Kitgum, northern Uganda. He is an Acholi by tribe. Despite his poor educational and family backgrounds/status, his poetry is so rich in metaphors of the hills, drenched in wits and insight that one is left yearning for more. Most of his writings are influenced by the kind of life he experiences or is experienced by the people around him. He writes thought-provoking sharp double-edged socio-cultural and political poems. Hundreds of his poems have appeared on different reputable publishing platforms like online magazines, blogazines, and print venues like newspapers and anthologies worldwide.

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