Two poets at each other throats

Two poets appear to have gotten
In a dire-straight dispute,
Accusing each other of conspiracy and plot.
One detractor disparagingly excoriates,
And inculpated his contender,
For clobbering his honour,
As a reputable and prolific composer.

In this power of words,

He set out to bring down the other poet’s world.

He characterised the work of the other
As audacious mendacity,
Vulgar vanity,
Cheap duplication - in variety

Pitiful expressions, in one worldly word - greed
Of the lower class breed,
lifted to unparalleled height and breadth.
Sumptuously words turned to swords,
To carry out indomitable war,
To requite unrequited desire,
Of selfish material gains over the sprit of the Lord.
In his mind the poet be

Writes to win his bread.
Simply, Mendacious audacity,
Audacious mendacity,
Claptrap agitprop,
That has no depth or clarity,
Which is the trademark of his duplicity.
Turning poetic beauty
In to a cheap publicity.
Which regrettably is a travesty.

"Pray poet be for revelation and in absolution,

And hope for ablution,

There lies for your dirty thinking a solution,"

Uttered he.

In an equal match of hate,
The other poet came out in heat,
complaining for being unfairly accused.
That he had not been deployed in casuistry,
To turn reality to mystery.
Exaggerating in words he used.
To propagate the crucial role
Played by the soul,
At the expense of the remaining all.
He had not creased the nerves, massaged the soul,
Lullaby both, for them to go to sleep,
In order to avoid the pain and see humans weep.

" Wait, shall I say you scum,

For the revolution to come,

And clear the dross,

And the stinking heavy weights

That has kept humanity oppressed,

Paradoxically you have been advocating it is rather a bless!"

The second poet riposted.

The trouble, having no judge to meditate
Between the two poets,
Words of another person,
Who devoutly had read the poet’s rhythmic lessons,
leaped out from nowhere,

As if it has been laying on unattended shelf,
To speak for itself.
And WORDS declared, "that there
Was no cleft, between the various versions of the poets,

There was no need to be at loggerheads.
The poets should halt the fight.
Instead, they ought to continue to say
What they have to say,
In every possible way.
The version that sways,
Must then be the order of the day,
And the other poet,
Must be saved and stay
To tell his/her version in another suitable day.

What appears to be at odd with current views

No sooner will it take up and claim its rightful place

In the hears and minds – and this people know

It is not only the bones and flesh that go to dust

But views recycle with a bit of a touch.

Copyright Haileselassie Giramy
Draft 22/2/98