Are You Appointed or Disappointed?

Posted: June 22, 2018 by Awuol Gabriel Arok in Awuol Gabriel Arok, Poems.

By Awuol Gabriel Arok, Juba, South Sudan


Out of my demo office into an open street,

Bypassing the royalists and the loyalists,

As they take-on horny ploy of tomorrow hunting.

Artfully I wind myself out of the hush-hush joint hub,

Where discontented dreams are chew over near my neighborhood;

Softly and diffidently gives my traditional order.

Through my wishful and toughened heart;

I have to settle on unfastened bamboo,

Another sign of my habitual taboo.

The best preference by the dispossessed jostler


Surviving on gone memories;

When ghost shadows were friendly,

A time when my contractual assignments was inked,

And stamped with a crystal figure of five hundred $;

The today hundred and fifty thousand of my mother wealth;

While my neighbour bump away with cherished clearance of seven thousand,

A smart equivalent of today three thousand $,

And nine hundred thousand of my mother wedding bed;

With meekness; Iam still wondering;

And why not me?


For years $ has been on my contractual file,

But my ill-omened hands had never tapped its woofing blades;

For long my mother has been feeding me on diluted porridge,

And none of those days have I dissented the worthless of my nosh,

Though I have been soliciting on the harshness and rareness of $,

For many years people have been wondering;

How my nine hundred weaning allotment lock up my habitual deal in.

Year after year my file has been under peculiar ration of one to two.

Not until yesterday when my neighbour

Decry his seven thousand;

The today wimpy sum of nine hundred thousand


But wait; let me expose my inner self;

Crossing foot with school goers and labourers;

Is not my dully top-notch;

Gulping Nile water with feral tilapia,

Is not my pipe dream but a valor pick,

Hooking and winking with differing caste,

Is not my sacrificial bellowing;

Sitting at a distant length from my grade and class,

Is not my decisive choice,


Day by day I must puffs in a cup of boiled Nile water,

To bless my aggregated belly,

Expecting me to march my appearance is my milkiest slap,

Knowingly my working desk is my noble death.

Since then I have been waiting for grading and grooming,

From my superior who is my Super Hero.

Hopefully his recent examination of our Ratios and files,

Will make him work on our unclassified files;

And with that I will be upgraded to my class and grade.

Pending that Iam neither appointed nor disappointed.

Awuol Gabriel Arok, a Writer, and a Poet, has a Bachelor Degree in Social and Developmental Studies from the University of Juba, South Sudan, he is the author of the unpublished book ‘‘The Wisdom Horn’’ and an Initiator of ‘‘Your Tribe is My Tribe’’ and ‘‘Giving Heart Foundation’’ initiatives. He can be reached via his email Address:


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s