EGYPTIAN LESSONS

Hark now hear the vociferous egoism of an embattled deluded dictator
Hear how the havoc voice of  Hosni spews as a human violence escalator
Oh, Africa, how shame sounds so loud when false prophets preside!
Hosni has it in him that only him and none else in millions can decide
Aged in dyed hairs of desperate clings to foregone youth he stands
Claiming rights to might and raving to rule against miles of mightier hands
Transfixed by power fixation he stands like a sphinx bereft of its magnificence
As he decrees himself indispensable when multitudes decry his malfeasance


As millions mount on millions in a moving millieu of monumental protestations
Mubarak rakes in revolting remains of his past glory in enraging manifestations
To say only him born him can be the power and might of the groaning masses
Ignoring piles of plundered grain storages spelling abject poverty and stagnation
Hosni huffs and puffs as he expectorates porous piety in pitiful indignation
That only him Mubarak broke the camel that carried the enemy of mighty Egypt
Uttering stuttering tales of how the hungry hands of protests make him feel gypped


Oh Africa, this is the lowest of the low in the ladders of your history of fake heroes
A tortuous testimony of a continent that is a factory of frauds worse than the pharaohs
That one man matches his sole ego against the torrential tides of the enraged multitude
Mimicks the colossal strides of legendary gods masquerading as virtue over servile servitude
And sees himself as his own best choice for the destiny of all in a travesty of patriotism
Oh Africa, the freakish font of fortunes written in hieroglyphic deception and pessimism
Painful it is that such poverty of passion persists to violate the voices of dissent pittifully
Everywhere in Africa, everyday, the clone of Mubarak mutates to dissect liberties willfully


Down the base of Africa lies my land in mirages of indifference and indolent nonchalance
That Egypt is gypped by an ogre of ego is seemingly unregistered in its postulation of chance
All believe their sun rises in Botswana and their sun sets in their prestine virginal horizons
Yet the mutants of Hosni breed and multiply sending others to and never themselves to prisons
Will they soon sap the resources of  over cultivated zones and descend on the ripe and prime?
Tyranny like a virus travels on carriers of various forms and flight paths of undefined, unknown time
That explains the thirst to retain my starry eyed watch over my ruddy but untainted sunrise
Hoping that not ever shall the colour of sunset match the blood of those that object and rise




By Andrew Sesinyi
Written at 23:45hrs, Thursday, 10th February, 2011, after watching the unlovely images of fury and disappointment in the land of Egypt.