In the year 700 million BC give or take a few years, a humble fisherman by the name of Smiling Smileyface Natamwa obworo (for he was Chinese) dragged up a large vase in his fishing net. The vase was greenish and glowing and inscribed with magical runes. Smiling Smiley had never seen anything like it. Smiley was at a loss for words. Smiley was notorious for his big mouth and this condition didn’t sit well with his conscience.
Said Smiley to self, “I am going to open this effing vase.”
And so he did.
As is usually the case when vases are opened in stories of this type; a vulgarly muscled fellow composed of smoke and poor lighting clambered out of the vase. He was called, lemme see… Bosco.
Bosco’s first career move under new management was to dive into the sand with a loud scream.
“What are you doing?” asked Smiley in shock.
“It’s new,” Bosco said with kwemolation. “I have been working on it for the past, whew! I dunno, 2000 years? It’s my special entrance; I call it my Dirt-Groove Move. Haha ha! Haaaa! Ha, not very funny is it? Ha ha! Oh darn, this is awkward.
They stared at each other while between them a chasm of awkwardness about a mile wide clamored to be felt.
“So…” said Bosco in the worried pseudo-cheerful voice of a middle-aged widower at his five-year old’s birthday party “How are we going to do this?”
“Do what?” asked Smiley shortly. He had been mercilessly bullied in high school and was understandably suspicious of overly muscled people asking him how they were going to do this. He didn’t care if they looked like a cross between Mario Lopez in a turban and The Ghost of Cigarette Butts Past.
“Go about granting you your wish.” Replied Bosco, slyly inserting a joke about a fish in a dish that was so crude and tasteless that even I me myself an urban legend I cannot find it in me to type it out and everyone knows that we are shameless.
“Aren’t those supposed to be three wishes?” asked Smiley all the while trying to pretend that the joke had not caused all the hair on his back to leap up in protest and abscond to the crack in his ass.
“One wish.” Bosco was firm.
Smiling Smiley talked vaguely about how we should uphold traditions blah blah wolokoso wolokoso et- cetera.
Bosco was adamant. His employment contract had a small but very real clause about extra benefits for left over wishes and there was a certain health care package he had had his eye on for some time.
Now, what Bosco didnt know was that Smiley was a fisherman who had managed to raise bargaining from a mere art form to something spiritual… Kumanya, just by looking at you, he could cause the money in your wallet to start sweating.
Bosco didn’t stand a chance. Eventually they agreed that were Smiley to make one wish, it would be for something so powerful and awesome, it would give him a power no body else on earth had ever had before.
They even bongaed on it.
So Smiley, said Bosco cracking his knuckles, what is this wish?
Smiley grew thoughtful. The air became charged and the sky turned inky black, the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks in the background faded and time, for a while, stood still.
“I” said Smileyface, “want to be able to do anything just by using my words. I want to woo women and inspire armies; I want to be able to describe anything so well others will want to chisel my words in stone and preserve them for all eternity.
Bosco looked at Smiley with something like awe.
“You know what you are asking for? You are asking for the power to transform words into magic.”
“Very well then, so be it.”
And that my child, is how the first poet was born.
The Lantern Meet of Poets is holding their 5th Grand Recital on Friday 10th and Saturday 11th of June at the National Theater starting at 6pm. Tickets are 5k for students and 10k for the rest of us. All proceeds are going towards some charity stuff which we haven’t done proper research on.