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Showing posts from September, 2012

IF...

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If If brightness the sun should ever lack And all the stars we see turn black… …Even if the moon refuses to shine And two o'clock is as dark as nine, I will never budge from your side; You alone give me warmth on my inside And I'll rather have your glittering eyes Than all the host of stars in the skies. If one day we have rain as red as blood And all our seas are turned to blood… …Even if fire falls from this very sky And all are killed that roam and fly, I'll still cling to the hem of your skirts Because you alone can quench my thirsts. I'll rather stay in your homely bosom Than lie on a bed or roses in blossom If one day the green grasses turn brown And no green patch is found in town… …Even if the fishes in the rivers all drown And the birds ply the sky all crash down, I'll still seek your lips so full of life Because you alone are the love of my life. For your sake I’ll walk through the fire And until you're mine I’ll never tire. If right now dogs b

YOU MADE ME WHAT I AM

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I am, that was from dead womb born, That drank the spittle of your scorn. And from the riches of your dumps I got my meals in moldy lumps. That little boy, frail fly magnet, The Devil strung him in his net And did put strength in his weak arms... So come I now with untold harms!! Bang ... Don’t look at me with pleading eyes, (For no conscience within me lies) Else I see defiance in their pleas And give Your soul a swift release! So you can grope at someone's feet!? You whine, you meow, you moo and bleat; Once propped up shoulders sagged and weak (But still I'll blow out your life-wick.) Bang, bang... Is this not you that turned away When for your spare coins I did pray? Did not your Bingo nip my heels, While you watched cackling at my peals? Don't grovel now - the time's long gone, Don't call me Sire, don't call me son! Have you not heard the sages say, "Every dog, sure, will have his day!" Bang, bang, bang.

EYES OF ICE

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I shiver at you; Eyes of ice – colorless, Like the waters Flowing down the hill At Erin-Ijesa! They look into my eyes And my blood Freezes Within my veins. Could they not behold me As in the days When I was the spark That made them The envy of the stars?

THE ROSE AND THE TOAD BY THE ROAD

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A rose there was that grew by the road. One day I find beside it a stinking toad. And I think, why should a stinking toad Be by this sweet rose growing by the road. So I to said to the stinking toad by the road, "Step away, for you met this rose on the road." The stinking toad would not leave the road And my nose rued the stink of the stinking toad. Then I turned to the rose growing by the road "How cope you with the stink of this stinking toad?" He answered me, the rose that grew by the road; "I care not for the presence of the stinking toad. For my fragraces, once sweet on this road, Is made more beautiful by the stinking toad. Now, all that taste the smell of this stinking toad Shall know the worth of of the rose by the road. And on the day that I shall be free of this stinking toad, Sharper shall be my scent on this road."

WEDDED and WEEDED [the funeral of marriage]

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Just yesterday... He wore a tie, she wore a veil. And yes, I looked, no face was pale As both of them walked down the aisle, In sweet rehearsed musical style. He gave the ring sporting with a smile And said the words showing no guile. She took the ring brimming with tears, Soft tears of joy, and buried fears... Now today... He shouts and throws two angry fists, She cries in pain but can't resist. His hardened knuckles punch and scrape And leaves her pretty face reshaped. Inside he quakes e'en as he leaves; She keeps a strong face but she grieves. ...Under a bed, a young heart bleeds, Two teary eyes defy their lids. Tomorrow... They'll go with bulging files - not rings- Each filled with pain from verbal stings. And none of them will bare their grudge Even as, mute,  they'll face the judge! Two broken hearts beyond repair Will live with pain they did prepare. A third, still young, is strung between- Wrinkled and scarred before his te

WHERE WENT OUR (WIDOWED) MA?

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Can it be sliced cassava bread The one the shepherd feeds his herd Or just a bite of ill-cooked beef That made our mama's stomach stiff? Oh! So you say she went to rest, And get some worries off her chest? But hope she does remember this While she is there seeking some bliss Her fellow widows here still seek Some respite from poverty's stick While looking up, side, down and round That they may ’scape the Boko hounds She left our own Obudu here (Bar Beach, Yankari, all are there) And went to ease her stomach cramps In German concentration camps! Well, someone tell our (widowed) ma That once there was a Dame like her, Who winched away to boost her youth …But ended as the Reaper's loot. Hope while she's gone she'll think to buy A shoe for that our shoeless Guy, Who leads us on this path we ply Without a map to lead us by!

THIS IS WHAT I AM

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I have looked into the mirror once and again– No. Think you not that I am vain– I am just a troubled heart in doubt Of my thoughts and the deeds my hands sow about. Now, as in times past, I shake my head again For still, my heart is hinged to the evil train I am yet chained – the veil remains– And the tainted blood flows yet in my veins! Strange voices have borrowed my voice; They have held my fingers and made me a choice. So again I look into my face– I cowed, not clapped– And I see the naked frowns in smiles wrapped. I see fangs in the face that looks me in the glass; The caterpillar has become a mamba in the grass. Now, though I search, I know not when and how; So my eyes doth argue with my soul then and now! When did I lose my path? Where, my quest? When did I turn from the East to the West? Is this what I am now – twin eyes that see not Ears, conspirators of silence, to weeping shut; Eyes, dry when mourning kisses a thousand lips?

EPHIALTES

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The sappling That once begged The mighty Oak For the remnants of rain, Is now an Iroko. The Iroko Dares the wrath Of the farmer’s cutlass For its keenest edge Only tickles. The belle That used to bathe in the rain See her, hiding Behind banana leaves; What have we not seen? Is this watered land not ours? Did we not cover The come bearing shoes When this trampling foot Was still bare? Now, we are turned away; Our blunt cutlass Fail to punish the Iroko And the belle Hides from us her face.

SANUSI’S FORTUNE NOTES

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My ears have just been rumor-pricked And now they itch with naked grief- Like those of errant babies nicked- As here I stand in un-belief(?) The greedy ones with open throat Have now a dubious pattern drawn; One piece of crispy fortune note, Adorned with female faces gone. Our stomachs groan for bread or meat And our souls still search for peace But all they seek each time they meet Is how to carve a bigger piece! Some said their ears did gag and choke (Well mine did twirl like wind twirled boats) When first they heard the mirthless joke About Sanusi's fortune notes. It’s he that said we should not walk With sacks of Naira in our hand. Why then would he now make this talk Of fortune paper in our land? Oh yes we know how this will end- When each of us has shut his mouth; They’ll smile – these fools that now pretend– And share the fortune notes North–South. So soon we'll jingle heavy coins While notes – so far beyond our reach – They'll cl