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SILAS ABAYOMI

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 11/10/2014 |




FLIGHT 370:
A Mystery or a Riddle?
Joyfully,
they left home with smiles, hopes, and
promises as they looked into the future with
optimism and confidence.


Dutifully,
the airline staffers at departure point were
busy providing help and services 
to make flight  370 eventful.


Painstakingly,
the flight crew at the tarmac was
checking and re-checking to make
flight 370 trouble free.


Happily,
friends, relatives, at departure lounge
were hugging and waving  saying
in Malayan dialect:
“sampai  jumpa,  jumpa  lagi, 
and selamat  tinggal ”;
meaning: “ till we meet,
meet again,  see you soon,
or goodbye.”






Without reason,
                   the north bound aircraft suddenly
detour mid-way into its journey-
down south,
few hours later the metal bird
buried in sea bed of Indian Ocean.


UN-EXPECTEDLY,
the goodbye greetings became:
“kata perisahan.”
Adieu!  Adieu!! Adieu!!!
With eyes full of tears-
relatives and friends are
now compelled to say-
never knew that kisses
at departure lounge  will be their
last;
never thought the metal bird will
never land,
never envisaged families, friends,
acquaintances at arrival point  shall
never receive kisses.



Shockingly,
                   a nearly half-size football field object
                   becomes a pin that no one can locate
                   in the deep floor of dense basaltic  rock
                   of great Indian Ocean.


Collectively,
                    men of goodwill around the globe with
 determined spirit are combing the sea bed
to solve the mystery and  locate  debris, if any;
and perhaps rescue souls, if possible.


Wearingly,
                   with little or no hope, search teams  have
                   traversed tens of thousands nautical miles,
                   east and west of the vast ocean;
                   daily, the assignment is becoming a
                   challenge, no thanks to inclement weather,
as the  world awaits answer
to the riddle and, perhaps
mystery of 2014.
         

Will Answer ever Come?
                   a billion dollar question, everyone asks;
at what point-
should we stop or  give up?
How much of ocean floor do
we need to search?
How much time do we have for
this assignment?
How much of wait time should
family members and friends give,
before giving up?
Is time not running out?
Do the search teams still have enough
steam to push the work ahead?

Weep no more,
 as the search continues,
friends and family members,
WEEP NO MORE.






Another Cry in the Sky
My heart bled,
my eyes were filled with tears,
just as my tear-soaked lips
continuously asked-
Why? Why? Why?
Why this again?

In my patio, at night-
on my palm my jaw had lain,
gazing into the night sky-
imaging the ten-thousand-mile-flight
that ended tragically.

The journey everyone on board
anticipated a successful landing,
the journey everyone  on board
related as members of same
household;
the journey, no one thought
of a rival deadly flying object.


Suddenly, the joy in the air aborted-
the laughter on metal bird ceased,
the sleep and dozing in
the temporary-home-in-the-sky
murdered.


The varied and multiple conversations
in the 1,000-ton-flying –bird ended
without conclusions;
all enjoyments on board soon became
history-
as pain and cry followed-
when MH 17 Boeing 777 turned incinerator.






Donetsk! Donetsk!! Donetsk!!!
the city of John Hughes,
the coal mine of Eastern Europe-
“the city of million Roses”
the industrial and scientific
center of Ukraine-
the city on the great Kalmius River.


Donetsk-why you of all
towns and cities in Ukraine?
Instead of coal-you gave
cry, anger, and wailing;
instead of “roses” you laid wreath.
Donetsk-you robbed families
of their loved ones-
you changed beautiful hymns
in the air to dirge.


Donetsk- a welcoming city thou
has been, never known as
mass grave domain-
a fertile black earth  land,
which readily became  a
cemetery to not-ready-souls.


Donetsk-is your sky no longer blue-
like the colors of the land-
you have nurtured for centuries?
When did it become red?
Donetsk-I thought the hand-held
hammer- on your coat of arms
is a symbol of industry and
wealth creation;
when did it become a
tool of destruction?


As the world mourns and
sympathizes
with bereaved families ,
and as corpses leave Donetsk in bags
for burial at individual home countries,
I say to the bereaved, friends, families:
Take Heart and Cry NO MORE.


 Our Yesterday Emperor and Empress
Gone were the days when
emperors ruled and reigned,
gone were the days  when empress
consorts held fort for emperors,
gone were the days when emperors’
words were edits, 
proclamations were laws,
signet rings  were  the seals and
symbols of authority.


Gone were the days when
emperors decided on life and death,
gone were the days when selections
preferred to elections;
long gone days when emperors were
anointed, revered, worshipped, 
held infallible, adopted as
God’s representatives on the earth.

Gone were the days when
thrones and ruler ship passed on
to sons and daughters without
question.



Today in History:

Emperors have become history,
consigned to yesterday’s  accounts of who
ruled where;
talk about  on pages of history books or
found voices among scholars 
who want to remind us of yesterday.

Tomorrow in history:

Will there be ruling emperors again?
Certainly not!
Never again will there be
demigod;
but for certainty, it will be said
there was a time when mortals
reigned supreme.




















                  

  


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