Poem: Okoroshi , the Masquerade

With grotesque mien
The fearsome ones
From the land of the dead
‘Okoroshi’,
The Masquerades
Sneak, or roam

In their gloved hands
A long cracking whip
With speed, and agility
Of an antelope
They are
Terrors, of the day

Young men,
Boys, and girls
Pitch their speed
Against these
Crafty immortals

Again, and again
Elders
Initiated in the ways
Of these spirits
Mediate
Rescuing the
Unfortunate youngsters
Whipped, scented, frightened
From their hideous
Captors
While securing passes
For the humble
Uninitiated

Fearsome ones of the dead
My ancestors
Guardians
Of the night
Who by
Howling and wailing
Scare
Evil spirits from
Ravaging the land

And when their time
Is done
The immortals
Crawl back
Into the ant holes
From whence
They emerged
And shall re-emerge!