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This post was written by Tee Akindele on August 27, 2010
Posted Under: Random

Poem: Busybodies

Walking and walking
Talking and talking
Seeing and hearing -
What haven’t her eyes seen?
Or his ears heard?

Un-fastidious feet stomping here and there -
Places holy and places unholy -
They know no discretion nor regard repute:
“Leg fibers don’t wear” “licking soles don’t matter”.
Strength is refilled with the mischievous anticipation
Of another revealing day, morning by morning.

Eyes searching and inquiring,
Ingratiating effusive greetings to him and her,
Ears tingling and extended to interrupt air waves
For signals of fresh ‘information’: scandal, ceremony or tragedy.
Penetrating the crowd and intruding on privacy;
Every scrap matters – unproved or unsupported: does not matter.
No news is appalling to them; nothing is too repulsive -
In fact, the more shameful, the more pathetic, the better.

She is known everywhere she’s been seen – and that’s everywhere
he is hated everywhere he’s loved – that could be anywhere
They know and see -as it seems- everyone and everything.
Oh! they aren’t jobless – very busy
Gathering and dispatching ‘mislaid information’.
It’s not their business; it’s no skin off their nose
But it’s their pride: ‘the town’s unofficial news correspondent and reporter’.
They don’t gossip – they only take facts, but when trouble lands nko:
Ah! they never even spoke at all.

And when they vacate temporarily of business,
Retired home and braced in a comfy position, close by the neighbors
- Only the legs are about to rest, they have done their bit -
The tongue now takes charge of the revelations
Of the day’s notoriously ardent pursuits
With fresh regurgitating enthusiasm.
God help that audience!

© 2001, poem by Tee Akindele

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