NOSTALGIA A COLLECTION OF POEMS

                                    SEETHING CORNUCOPIA OF AVARICE

Pendulous avarice spurted at a clopping pace

And condescended me to a simpering lark

Strutting vaingloriously it wolves down the ace

And I amble about with denudate skull mark



Deranged of impeccable grace

I sheltered vulturously in the miraculous ark

Of God that undauntedly hornished my rapacious race

Cajoled oration from the pulpit set off the spark



Promises of voracious want in place

Everyone is captured wallowing in mire in the dark

In precocious attempt to be the mace

Jam-packed even on the aisle it spills to the park



Tumultuous stampede to inherit the earth smudge a smirk on the face

Ravenous vulturous want besmirch a mark

Dint of toil of the dexterous it seek to replace

As wondrous miracles peel its bark.

                              THE TARTAN ARMY

And I bear a mortar

Upon my shoulders

A load meant for two

Didn’t it break my back?

Fervent soldier in agony



And I wore the tartan mark

Weren’t we distinguished?

The Tartan army

That bore no grudge but fight

Didn’t we run around in circles?

Through the burrows

Through the furrows

Like water poured out

It was a murky skirmish

That tore serenity out of us



In a loud voice

We billow out death

Death to the King and his equestrians











                           





























                                  NOSTALGIA

A concupiscence turmoil shimmer

Deluge of bestial caprice and malice unleash

Preening and pruning in effulgent glimmer

It snowballed in rabid rash



But I have sequestered myself in a slammer

Goaded into gallows I loathed the sudden bash

Jovial rubicund warmth of nostalgia linger

Galvanic giggle that smouldered my ash



Campaigns of calumny pugnaciously simmer

Ludicrous and lugubrious it tittered for a leash

Leering and jeering am entwined in its corpulent ember

And mitigating silence incredulously abate a clash



A delusion of grandeur on a front burner

Unscrupulously galvanized for the brash

Inflated opulently like the befuddled jailer

And fluttered ignominiously in a blustering crash











                         



























                                            THE ECHO

The Centipede’s crawl on a naked body

Revibrating

The echo of a bemuddled world

That stood unperturbed

While the gangrene kept spreading

In a death race

That has kept a nation shackled



And the fervent gale

Kept whistling past our ears

The echo of a lost paradise

As it carries its potent message

That has held us down

Revibrating

From one mountain top to the other



And the strangled voice whimper

Forth proceeding

From the distillery of blood laid

Kept re-echoing

Of those that would not

In a heap of troubled souls

That has been held down

By the echo

                     





























                              ARGOSIES OF LACK

Look at the beige crescent of human forms

A homely hirsute specter unveiled

Argosies of lack flew over their heads

In stricken eerie banshee screech

They sulked cantankerously



Stricken gasp of dismay

Do we feel despicably remiss

That something has gone amiss

Wroth with stentorian wrath

We mirror the dreadful portent of our own decay



Globules of perspiration

That glistered like transparent pearls

Swelled like opaque blisters

A minimum wage foisted

Deft grimace of tribulation





                            IMAGES

Sure nakedness that splits a mind open

Bare the images

Twisted and crumpled

Don’t we cringe back?



Images of darkness

That taunts

The traveler in darkness

A sombre march

Down the labyrinth

It is the images of a befogged world

Springing up

That we might be drenched

In perspiration and palpitation



A petulant wind that blows across

Don’t we all crave for perspicacity

That we will not be carried along

Much gassing

Much gibberish

And we deflate like a balloon

Don’t we tumble down in flailing flakes



Images that taunts us

And tore sanity out of us.





























                          MAUDLIN LAMENTATION

A maudlin lamentation cackle

Staccato furtive whispering rumble

Ember of incarnadine symbol of ineptitude rankle

A resonant disdain of our otiose boredom tumble



Paling confusion writhing like a withered wrinkle

Harried look of sobriety and mistrust assemble

And hypnotic sags dangle on a sickle

In vacuous indolence we amble



Candid candor augmented in dappled fickle, twinkle

And abysmally, in withering precision we grumble

Vaulted dogma in ecclesiastical aplomb tickle

As hedonistic minions from hell dribble



Puckered lips splattered with foamy dew wheedle

And seesawed sanctimonious fillip stumble

Beetling old hauteur resuscitate in twinkling trickle

As the gargantuan pudgy figure of the piousman wobble

                                        STRAFING

Dark thunder, Red thunder

Strafing

In an avalanche

They aim to consume us



Sizzling points of death

Rained down on us

Pinpoint accuracy reflected



Now we are all dead

Ambling moorons

That has lost out

Awaiting the cyclone



Debris of our charred remains

Encrusted by time

Kept corrupting

That the unborn might inhale

Its pungent smell



It is a midnight strafing

That has saturated our heads

Helter skelter they run

Seeking for the control panel



Dead nerves unearthed

That seeks the niddle, flow

Warmth long forgotten

That we might come alive again

An acupuncture we all need.

                 

















                                    A VOLUPTOUS VOLCANO

It is a voluptuous volcano

Spewing forth a season’s imprint

Lushes scenery capture the mind

Enthralling, it stir up the broth of passion

Languid lasciviousness lashes out its fang

Its scintillating scent linger

Odd romance with the air

Like lovers apart for a while



A celebration of life

Life on a platter of gold

Supple caresses of the wind

As I pluck an apparel to wear

Embedded hopes come alive

Resurrected verdant greenery

Stamp an imprint

Due process in due season proceed

That we might convalesce in its warmth

Ruptured beauty spilling its cream

And sunbath await.







































                  A TORN VEIL

Listless moments it defines the season

Humanity rejuvenated springs forth to life

Bubbling budding blossom

Emblazoned scenery spewing forth life

A gallery of ornamental ribbon

The passion of Christ staked alive



And to the podium we cross the Rubicon

Sizzling slicing scissors of the midwife

A torn veil rising above reason

Image of God made to thrive

As buffeting Eldorado, beckon

Above the slimy sublime we strive



An embolden bud embraces the sun

New warmth, new life

Raging virgin virtue in a vacuum

It is a rolling season to give

Life’s pulsating pleasing passion

Springing forth alive.







































                          UNSUNG

Progenitor procreate bubbling bundle of joy

An unsung hero lay in a sepulcher

Build a monument; ahoy ahoy

Rent the air for the scepter

Flourishing fountain flushing meadow

Dainty carriage of noble virtue

Take a bow



Virtual reality, a cocooned coven mature

Spiral wave, a length of time to buy

An umbilical cord unbroken fissure

Oozing out life for a boy

Unbroken I still draw out nurture

A bastion of warmth bestowed

Sedated I convalesce in the bowel of nature



Adoration, adulation, bring back their joy

Build a monument, an altar to revere

Groundswell gratitude of a boy.

                      WHISTLING PINE

Jactitation of fabled mind

Loose cannon spewing out fiery dart

I wobble in desecrated desolate grind

Mud bath encrypted metamorphosed to an art

Maggot squirming oscillates to its hind

Captured thought regurgitate a dog’s fart

Skunks blemish a spot to find

Am I a scion of a tart?

On cloud seven, I clamp unto the wind

Loaded garbage on a cart

And perambulation is drawn to mind

Guttural voices jostle for a spot on the mart

Whispered lies, a whistling pine to bind

Etched on a podium, it becomes an art

Rabble-rousers rule one of a kind

Bounties of a subdued mouth, take home your part

Galloping noble virtue made to rescind

Cannon fodder burst pierces the heart

And compelling comportment is left behind

Fizzled phantom fumble to a start

And takes a jolly ride on the back of the blind

Reloaded cannon perches like a wasp’s wart

Verged on a swoop like a whirlwind

A whispered lie flaws an art.































                      LAVENDER GLOOM

A poignant lavender gloom loom

As I straddled a saddled horse

Malevolent wind whips up melancholy

It is a buzzard blizzard that sprung up

And impaled me on cryptic piety



Impervious allure of austere silence

That hung damp like an asinine smile

Giddy, I grappled the girdle

That I might unswervingly make a pirouette

A roistering clatter still the silence



Banal banters stir up a whirlwind

Swiveled unto the jaded sky

It hung on the veil of tenuous fluff

Awaiting boisterous claps of thunder







                      I UNDERSTAND

Don’t I understand?

The anguish we heap on ourselves

Running madly

Through the streets

Marginal jump

A leap unto the wind

And we sail the barricade

In leaps and bounds

We attain

Unto madness



Don’t I understand?

The momentary joy

That stole in like a thief

Fleetingly assuaging

And the disappearing act

That leaves the vacuum aching

Like it was never there



Don’t I understand?

The excitement

Hot adrenalin jumping up

Hitting the roof

That sends us off

Spiraling the wave

Of agony that swept us off

And we clutch unto sorrow.

























                    RAIN DROPS

A clutter of rain puddle

Meandered sonorously

Titillating languorously towards cerulean water

An ominous elliptical strand of nature to mull over

Galled by its lackadaisical drift

I yearn for a debilitating flood



Bitter bile wells up the similitude of Cain

As ponderous primeval lull aches

And excruciating dilemma rile

I thought the muse phantom is fathomed

Stringent drop of rain makes an ocean

Perspicacity am told to pluck and wear



A sheltering Igloo I recourse to in a charnel

Melting pus I reek of dank despair

As tremulous rain drops splashed from a moiling sky

Soaking mordantly into my fretful countenance

Cluttered into a puddle for its enervating flow.

                    A NAME

To bear a name

What is in a name?

Carrots winding up

Sedate your mind

To that which you see



And

That which you bear

A label fixed



God’s own portion

That transfixes me to the gaze

A name given

A name taken



It is Okechukwu

That sprung up at my birth

Unfancied

I chose another label

Now it is Okey

Fashionable

Not mouth breaking

And draws the rhythm out of it



Castigate me not

That I took

A flight of fancy

For I am not alone

It is a stampede.





















                    GRITTY

Didn’t I heard the bray at the moon

Shrill and ululating

An insensate spell that held me in thrall

In depth of tranquil and luxurious trance

I howlered in incoherent oblivion of rapture

In stultifying languor of desire



An imploring grimace

That held off the scaling and vindictive resentment

Chided tartly by a brusque voice

While in crafty gleam of prying elation

And befuddled disillusion smudged a natty crease

That I engaged in irrational frenzy of maddened might.













                          THE BEAUTY OF THE BUTTERFLY

Spread your wings

Gaily adorned maid

That I may suck in your beauty

Ravishing butterfly perched on a rose

Keep taunting me

Keep flapping your wing

That I may take it all in

Well versed in the act

You never let me

Suck it in at once

Perched and perch

And you hop off

Keeping the flame alive

Poor captured me

And I keep following

That I might be knowledgeable in beauty

And dancing to taunt me

You kept eluding

Bright smile that light up the sky

That engaged me

That conquered me

Fluid dancer, exotic charmer

Cast me off your spell

That you do not lead me to oblivion

Eyes fixed upon the sky

I behold not the ground

That I do not stumble unto death

Wrapped up

In the beauty of the butterfly.





















                      FUROR OF TIMID RESENTMENT

A furor of timid resentment

Spilled obstreperously

Pullulating like mosquito lavre

A guzzling saturnalia on a blistering blitz

Latched on to an arbitrary gust of wind



Vapid strangers on spurious vim

Transmogrified me to a castaway cripple

Eloquent tact and subtlety

Blossoming spryly

Bandier me into bird brain in a viscious pulp



Jaunty relish on my gloomy solitude

In a sinking streaking blur

I spurn and churn

In raucous pandemonium clitter-clattering

A blustery staccato clatter that tells tale.





                  PUMPING UP THE BRAIN

Pumping up the brain

To relieve it of boredom

Don’t we surpass ourselves

In madness we unleash on ourselves

Agonies brought in

By the swift act of madness

Heckled nerves

Freckled brain

That  need constant prodding

Shoot up the fire

To engulf the head

Dull moments chased away

That leads to oblivion

Now it is dull forever

Rotting away

Slowly coming apart

A night cap that put them in slumber

And constantly they remain in it



Don’t they want to blow their heads off

A death wish that hangs on them

Look at them set

To shoot it up

Tension mounted

Heightened

That they sought to relief

Now it is aggravated

Slowly grinding them

To death onward

Solace in the niddle

That sought to embrace madness

Contaminated vein

Oozing fluid of death

And it sucks the blood dry

To have pre-eminence.









                    A GARGOYLE GIGGLE

Prickles of perspiration stood unbent

In mock salute ambivalently rendered

A fustian charade

Taunting the bedraggled sedulous labourer

Dense copse of gritty vitality plodding

As taciturn as a stump of tree

Draws no sentimental platitude

Malevolent stigma spurted

Vitriolic scorn

Quivering knots of disgusting bilge

And snickered with mucid sibilance

A spunking gargoyle giggle

Rising impishly with increasing zest



Morbid aversion of manic-depression repressed

Who will build the monument?

That obsolete ambivalent attitude to work

Might stringently peter out



                    THE POWER OF LOVE

Drenched soul that shivers in cold

All frozen up

The ice and icicles

That stiffens us up

Stiff limbs and mouths

That draws out inertia

Look at love beckoning

For an embrace



But the attuned mind

Gets the feel

Of the power of love

That breaks the ice and icicles

Drawing out warm emotions

Liquid lips and rapid limbs

That convalesce in it’s embrace



Borrowed time

Hand on the leash

They wish to draw back the time

To break the power of love

That you might be enveloped in misery

Of the sweetened milk gone sour



Clung unto the power of love

And like a steel

Never let go

That you might savour it’s wings

Spread around you.





















                A PARODY OF REPENTANCE

In mooning frustration

I quail and quake

Incredulous lumpish palpitation

Vacillating peevishly like a stung snake



Rigid cataleptic astonishment marks my condescension

Parodies of repentance bake

In mirthful and sardonic regression

Like a hapless hedonistically furnace lake



Blooming gleam of malicious elation

Fickle and licentious, sprouted up fake

A seething cornucopia of aberration

Flickering a whimpering glimmer of cultured flake



Sputtering and tittering, I stuttered and muttered in rancid oration

A bleat of plaintive agony I rake

In wan foreboding, I ostracize all illusion

That I may bloom somnolently in clean brake.

                      THE PIROUETTE

And I trudged off

In naked glory

I looked not back

For it is a glorious walk that besieged me

Ambling I shall not

That I might set my eyes to the mountain

It is tenacity

I pluck and wear

A solemn apparel

That I might wither all storms

A rock for ages



A blistering whirlwind

From north came

That swoops down on us

To pluck and be lifted

High upon the sky

Above the clouds unto heaven

And we suck serenity

A mind sedative



The order of the day

That piqued

Serenity thrust upon a stake

Set high above us

It becomes elusive

And we did a pirouette.

























                          EMERODS IN SECRET PARTS

Emerods in secret parts

Sprouting in necrotic profusion

Proliferating portentously

Like the impervious Egyptian plague

It’s pungent odour ruptures the air

Sweltering cluster of filthy lucre

And they bask in it’s euphoria



Look at the ghastly-congealed corruption

A pale ochre hue affront

That has left a nation in death throes

But they bask in it’s euphoria

A cantilevered goldfish bowl on a mantelpiece

Poignantly lavished for our mockery

Emerods cast in gold debase us.









                      AND WE ARE CRYING BLOOD II

And we are crying blood now

Desolation abound

Everywhere

Doesn’t it choke us with grief?

Shall we mourn Africa?

Shall we cry for our ancestors?

Are we troubled about the unborn?

Great trepidation

A heavy heart

That draws the ooze

From our bleary eyes

Shall we curse our leaders?

The vermin that plundered it all

It is the lot of our children

They looted



And we are crying blood now

Centuries of ravenous ravages

Have left us desolate

It is the imperialists

Shall we curse them?

And the colonialists

That carved up Africa

Shall we thank them?

It is civilization

They said they brought to us

And plundered our land wantonly

A little down payment

For teaching us how to be humans

What about the tax masters

That placed a debt burden on us

They called it help

But ended up enyoking us

And the slave masters

That depleted us

Shall we thank them?







                    DISCORDANT TUNE

Wily cajolery draws the bridge of dank despair

Dawdled gloom is bottomless

And torpid melancholy catapult me to a ruminated debonair

As I whirl in whorls of myopic stillness



Portentous gong, flares up the flair

Fleeced illusion tumble to nothingness

And dissonant déjà vu seems so fair

Mirthful trepidation is faceless



A tremulous despair latch on to a pair

As I wallow in clawing empathic bleakness

Impetuously I clutch unto the air

Flailing grasp to still its rapidness



Debauchery adroitly croons for a repair

As I burrow in mesmerizing lonesomeness

Twin discordant tune nestling in my lair

And I swim languorously in its untapered restiveness

                          NAME-CALLING

Your highness

Your lowness

Your holiness

Your filthiness



The masquerading

That set out to utterly distinguish

An elevated vanity

That aim to fly

High above the clouds

They aim to be the masters



The masquerades guttural voice whimper

That set out to utterly distinguish

In sounds and sights

As we continue

Racing madly on the streets

Against the run of time

Against the tides of life



A small masquerade

That set out to prove

That he is not human

Flying through the streets

On a high horse

That utterly distinguishes

Rabble mind akin

























                            A CLAP OF DISTANT THUNDER

Volleyed vortex of incandescent rumpus

I perceived the claps of distant thunder

Timorously congealing the convergent afflatus

Its infundibuliform jowls interminably titter



Trepidation afloat, an ebullient sarcophagus

Diffident eyes beaming effulgent flood of blunder

And dreary inscrutable allusion spread it’s pus

Fretful, frenzied paramnesia cluster



It’s tentacles a dissonant impulse to discuss

Damnation threaten to rend exultant serenity asunder

And I valorously expurgate conciliating focus

Apoplectic rage well up as bitter bile litter



Portentous gong, a grotesque contortion becomes a colossus

As avuncular splendour lay prostrate a bleeding cinder

And corollary optical phenomena becomes an apparatus

On the verge of disconsolate slaughter.

                            LOONEY TUNES

Ponderous primeval lull sizzle subcutaneously

An unthaw wheedle rises surly

Vituperation jactitated, ruminate indolently

Lulled, lured and lacerated prodigiously

I got bludgeoned crabbily

A buzzard blizzard I crooned for mellifluously

But cloying yellow stillness lay forlornly

As haranguing unperjured loneliness strummed soothingly

A muggy foggy haze that descended obliquely

Floundering fog that meandered sonorously

And I embellish the cloak of mist hanging uncertainly

Like a desiccated old vegetable dangling languorously

Fetid, acrid and putrid, it jumbled wily

Unspringing mellow rhythm pugnaciously

Hedonistic bedlam unleashed fled mirthfully

Ogling me along sardonically

It’s pulverized debris geysering up wildly

And loneliness looms, plummet smugly



                  AN IRIS GLEAM

Suave svelte succulent knoll

That fructified my fantasy

Keep drooling oafishly

My lips filmy with succulent residue

I kept crooning mellifluously

In a didactic male drone



Hawkish elfin impulse

Hoggish ravenous swoop

Sudden glowing bloom enraptured

I cackled with avid glee

A livelier Iris gleamed upon the burnished dove

And strapping ripen nubile hillock beckon



A bleary-eyed bleached blonde

Radiating effulgent flood of sunlight

Undulating on mottled tree tops

Blooming like a fertile oasis

Tantalizingly beckon for a bite.

                  SONG OF THE NIGHT

Erupted hormones splash the sky impetuously

And erected dynamic interlinear tension

Mounts the podium tempestuously

As ethereal frayed nerves jostle for attention



Calibrated veiled threat chortle exultantly

Ravages of unslumbered night clamps it’s portion

And spatulated babble grovel impudently

As cancerous chauvinism swerves in motion



Nincompoops navigate heated terrain perilously

An unctuous and benign smile supplant devotion

Wily cajolery erupt servitude precariously

A bondage that dotted mollified passion



Bulging biceps rules the night valorously

As famished minds cradle altercation

Opalescent pastel radiance extinguished ingloriously

Innocuous hell, a trollop chokes up in savage passion

                          THE EMBRACE OF ARIEL

The life of a maggot

Each day

I squirm for survival

Perspicacity

That plucks me through the ethereal

Numbed

I splash impetuously through the labyrinth

Gasping

For the embrace of Ariel





















                  A DEATH WISH

There is a death wish

Hanging on the air

Obliquely it is suspended

Like the sword of Damocles

Mounted catastrophe

That besieged us all



To reach out and grasp the sky

Masters to rule for eternity

Suspended mortality

Grinding our reasoning to a halt

Shallow grave dug

To fill our bones with

Even in death

We have no graveyard

Stumps and limbs

Sticking out

To salute our insanity.



                  TO SHEAT OUR SWORDS

On guard

Ringing through our ears

Through centuries gone by

Kept revibrating

In a befogged world

Hazy atmosphere

Still kept them in the dark

Dark clouds, dark thunder

That hovers over them

Like a guardian angel



On guard

They go about with their swords drawn

Not a moment rest

They sleep with their eyes open

Drawn sword tightly clasped in their hands

It is a madness that have taunted us

As the centuries swept by

No relief to this tension

It kept mounting as the day go by

Now we have enacted our nightmare

In the death threat we placed on guard



A madness that swept the times away

Hugged unto it

We become more savage

Where is our civilization?

Where is our love?

That we want to obliterate the earth

In one fell swoop



And

I say now is the time

To sheath our swords

Beat it into ploughshares

And

Feed our children

Can we be sane?



                    CHRONICLER II

Chronicler

Tell your eloquent tales

Of the fabricated and diluted

That rile up the world

You will spill forth



It is an assiduous clanger

Reeled out

By the vermin of the earth

Don’t you aim to contaminate it wholly?

That the earth might be subdued

In the ideals and principles

That makes it float



Eloquent chronicler

Spill forth your gut

It is your filthy entrails

You expose to the whole world.



                AN ENSHROUDED WORLD II

It is an enshrouded world

Encapsulated in lies

Don’t they all hide behind the mask?

That the intent might be hidden



It is the murkiness of their path

That tore serenity away

From them

Didn’t they form cults?

That swore to keep the earth enshrouded



It is an enshrouded world

Enshrouded for its worth

Weren’t they driven by selfishness?

That age-old avarice

That tore reasoning away

It is a befogged world.





                    THE CLASH II

It is the clash

A clatter of metals

Echoing

They thrust and parry

It is the ultimate clash

That sent them streaming

To the arena

Fervent warriors unearthed

With their instrument of death

Gleaming to the sun

They set of for the murderous

They have been hyped up

Look at their heads throbbing

With stimulants

And assiduous clanger reeled in



It is the clash

That has left us traumatized

A world submerged with evil

Don’t they always carry the day?







































                    TO UTTERLY DISTINGUISH II

To utterly distinguish

Don’t we set about it?

Self-denial is an art

That elevates us to the podium

To reach out and grasp

Isn’t it tangibles that make the difference?



To utterly distinguish

To bend down and lift

Intangibles unto our heads

A load to carry

A burden to bear

Doesn’t it distinguish them?

Shadow chasing is an act

That utterly distinguishes.









                  TO SHEATH OUR SWORDS II

On guard

That rang through our ears

Through the centuries

That has swept by

Didn’t we draw our swords?

To ward off death thrusts

Weren’t we incensed?

By the sight of blood

That drove us to the roof

Much blood spilled

And it became an orgy



Don’t we relish its sight?

That has made it

Prime news

Breaking news

And we sheath our swords not

Don’t we even wield it?

Without on guard ringing in our ears.

                                  BEMOANED

With grieve stricken head he bemoaned her

Ada

Most beloved daughter of fate

Accursed Well

Wide mouthed gate of Hades

Laid up snare

Patiently waiting

For little girls to swallow

Ada

Forever gone

Just a bucket of water

To quench a rumbling stomach

And the patient monster swallowed her up.













              SYMPHONY OF ILLUSTRATED MADNESS

On a night of many firelight

We stood

Listening to the cracking sing song of insects

A symphony of illustrated madness

Beckoning on the night to pass quickly



The night of a thousand women

All strewn out

Waiting to become a woman

Sharpened knives and cutlasses, a butchers companion

Glistering from the reflection of the bonfire



Piercing screams, no not of insects

A collection of aggravated agony

Silencing the symphony of illustrated madness

A new sing song

Beckoning on the night to go away



Night of dimmed stars

Shaded out by a bloody cloud

Come aggravated storm

Blow on wild wild tornado

Leaving a debris of a shaded past.

































                                          DESPAIR

Who will marry me?

I have gone to the gates of Hades

And am back

Putrid smell

Following me everywhere I go

But am not dead yet

I am a child of fate

The most honourable daughter of despair

Who will marry me now?

But I used to be desirable in their eyes

My firm breast was a source of warmth for them

But now am discarded

A veritable tool in their hands

To be used and discarded

At their behest

Please tell me

Who will marry me now?





                                        BEWILDERED

Beyond words

Like a tale in the moonlight

She was taken away

Kicking and shouting



Life is a Pandora box

Spewing out bewilderment

Changing colour every minute

Like the veritable chameleon



Encased in the warm embrace of her mother’s bosom

Still suckling the juicy warmth of motherhood

Then the Pandora box sprang open

And she was taken away



Watchful eyes all around her

No, she must stay

For she has been betrothed

A decade ago



Outer bewilderment

Deep seated anguish

In prison with a monster

And no way for escape.

























                       





                        THE DEVINE LAW

The law is made for mankind

And not mankind for the law

Devine intervention in the affairs of humans

For the inevitable evolution of mankind

Towards Utopia.



But woman is made for the law

And not the law for the woman

Everyday,

She is sacrificed on the alter of the law

For the inevitable evolution of mankind.



The Devine law

Handed down by the creator

Yes, that’s what they claimed

For the domination of one sex

Over the other



But who can tell us who the creator is?

A male or female?

For we must know

Why He hates female so much

On the text of the Devine law.



Maybe He doesn’t hate females

Afterall

Then who made the Devine law?

For it’s texts are clear

That she should be sacrificed on the alter of the law.





















                                BETRAYAL

Seek refuge in it’s fortress

A seemingly impregnable encasement

Fortified by natures own divine order

For the abode of the strong and weak alike

The strong arm of the law

Moulded by the very wisest of them all

Fortified by nature’s own divine order

For the abode of the strong and weak alike

Seek refuge in it’s fortress

And see reality starring you in the face

If you are of the ‘weaker’ sex

An act of betrayal

By the very wisest of them all

The strong arm of the law

Eloquent transfusion of outer disarray

A cacophony of double standards

For the abode of the strong and weak alike.





                                  THE OVERCOMER

Men shall persecute you because of me

But she who persists to the end

Shall overcome

For the persecutor shall become the persecuted

And the

Persecuted shall become an overcomer

Out of the gutter shall she arise

And make her bed

And out of the dust bin

She shall make her belly joyful

The rain shall fall upon her

The harmattan cold shall feast upon her body

And the summer heat shall be her companion

But she has been ordained an overcomer

For she held her head high and straight

Despite being bashed by life’s travails

And when she found the comforter

The one whom her savior had promised her

Her joy knew no bound

And hope became embedded in her heart

Knowing that

Because He lives she can face tomorrow.





























                     



                     

                              A NEW DAWN

Spread out your tentacles Oh Mother Earth

And from it spring out eloquent tranquility

A new beginning

A new dawn

Jettisoning the Augean stable

That have befuddled us



Yes, a life we’ve lived

Of myopic aggrandizement

Right from the very foundation of times

Luxuriating in fabled myths

Of inequality, all those cacophony of nonsense



But in my dreams I see

A serene world

That makes my heart reach for the stars

Yes a totally tranquilized earth

Made fit for blissful habitation

Of all creatures alike.

                                          IKEJI

Night of the seven spirits of Ulani

Doomed shaped creatures lurking behind the trees

Thrown out from the bowel of the earth

From the little ant’s hole



Diligent and industrious

The ever busy little ants

That carries a pang of pain on it’s tail

More painful than the sting of the masquerade’s cane



Accursed little creatures

Greatest enemy of the creeping child

Why do you have to throw up the masquerades on us?

From your little hole at the masquerade’s house



Ferocious and heinous looking creatures

Rejected by Hades itself

Expelled from the bowel of shoal

And thrown upon helpless humans



The spirit of their forefathers

Masked for the curious gaze of women

A source of scourge for erring mothers and children

Marked out by an indiscernible guttural voice



Ikeji, the festival of the masked ones

Littered throughout the streets

With the pang of pain in their hands

A source of sorrow for loving mothers



Ikeji, a harvest of masquerades

An array of splendour

More resplendent than the rainbow

A festival of men.











                        WISDOM

Everyone craves for it

Yet, only a few can have it

An essential precipe of life

A veritable stronghold



But some have laid claim over it

I ought to have it at my age

This grey hair is the melting pot

Sit my son under my feet



For you are only a stripling

Not fully weaned in the vicissitude of life

Melt with my hoary frost

And acquire some undiluted wisdom



Words of the elders

That has passed through the niddle

Lean my son on my discretion

For they are full of wise deeds

Young stripling

Do you know where the moon comes from?

What about the combustion of the sun

Then sit under my feet and learn great wonders



I have decreed it

For I have the power of wisdom

Only I know what is good for you

That you are condemned to hell on earth.



















                                     



                                          FOOLS

Masquerading as wise men

Encased in a charade of outer disillusion

I’ve got monopoly of wisdom, they claim

For it is written in black and white on my hair



Empty vessels, loudmouthed fools, nimble headed sycophants

Wisdom only comes to those who diligently searched for it

What you’ve got is numbers and nothing else

Clearly it is written in black and white on your deeds



You have acquired the power of wisdom

To contaminate the earth

For your deeds stink to the high heavens

And your mouth has derailed many hearts



What made you think you are a God?

Tinkering with other people’s lives

Yet you are not in control of your own

For the stench of your breath is unbearable



Wisdom belongs to the Almighty God

And he dishes it out to whomever He pleases

Not on numbers as you claim

Therefore sit under my feet and learn some wisdom. 







 





                               

















                                      AN AFRICAN WOMAN

Take a look at her

And what do you see?

A tweeney damsel

Oh! Is that her?

The shoulder that carries the home



But why is she haggard?

Why is she bare footed?

Take a closer look at her

And what do you see?

A girl child

An African woman.











                                 



                                  AN APPARITION OF SPITEFUL HEIGHT

Agonies of the night

That swept away my dream

Throes of thought

It kept me in dwindling doldrums

Subtle test of might

Now I solace in abject delirium



Entangled web of crimson plight

Solace in wait I dream

Doddering oddities abound in flight

Fantasy flight a purge of the delirium

Toss and tussle, am bathed in fright

Drenched bed, it’s a boiling caldron



A bouquet of wasteful thought

I simmer in delirious vacuum

Voidless images, an apparition of spiteful height

In tight embrace, I rummage for rum

Sedative that draws the night tight

Shattered dreams in a slumbering slum.