Showing posts from June, 2013


Different people write poetry for different reasons. I do mine for three main reasons; 1. To be part of change, lend my voice and preach a little good in a sick world. 2. (VERY IMPORTANT) To entertain myself and my readers. That is why I am particular about form, rhythm, rhyme and diction. 3. To relieve my mind of some troubles, self expression. These reasons are why I don't write like an obscurantist. I want my poems to be read and understood by everyone, from the layman to the literary family. Not that I don't like brain wracking poems, but; "I'd rather the beauty of my poems be found in my wordplay, the familiar nature of the words to the reader, the musicality and the ease of access." ~ Kukogho Iruesiri Samson What is your take friends, why and how do you write?


Die, hacker die! You bastard with no name Seeking to reap from my fame You steal my name and my face And recreate my respected space Die, hacker die! May you rot in the pit of shame I swear, a lorry will make you lame If you don't stop the lazy man's game A fool you fools die, you'll end same


Oh God, I was formed in a womb Kept, not flushed to the tomb I suckled hungry nipples Saved from Death's ripples Lord, Help me to justify my birth Let no female heart Be bled by my deeds... Else, mow me like weeds Amen


A real man won’t hit his wife Even if its to save his life A real wife will love her man Respect him as best she can If any man dares ball his fists Against a woman, he’s a beast! Let no woman use her tongue To revenge her man’s wrong


Don’t use your hands as fists Be soft, peel her heart’s cysts Don’t use your mouth as knife Whisper softly, “I love you, wife” Don’t make your house a den Don’t coop her, she is not a hen She is yours and you’re hers too Keep the love-oath, please do!

A DIRGE FOR 'WOMENS' (a Triolet)

Come sing a dirge for all womens , Locked in the fists of half-man boys, Curled up with fear in homely dens! Come. Sing a dirge. For all womens, Trapped, helpless, let's wield our pens, And help regain both voice and choice! Come, sing a dirge, for all womens, Locked in the fist of half-man boys!


I know many will want to bite at my jugular because of what I am going to state here, but I will go ahead and do just that. Bite me. Scratch. Whine. Talk. Gossip.  Women  Are  The Problem  Of  Women.  Some 7 years ago, I was working on my final year project (for my BSc.) titled 'Images and Portrayal of Women in Print Media Adverts'. I used the Questionare as one of my data gathering techniques…and had women as a subgroup. I failed to meet the quota of female respondents. They never wanted to talk...the few that filled my questionaire were surprisingly not bothered by the way women images were used in media adverts. Shocked. I sure was. Fast forward 4 years. It’s 2010... I am working on a mini documentary about a group of 'destitute' women who make a living begging under the overhead bridge at Marababa, Nasarawa state, Nigeria. Most of these women had no handicap - a few did though. But they were all either pregnant or had babies and little children. (I

Chief MKO: MONEY, KUDI, OWO... Remembering June 12

Chief MKO Abiola...we will never forget June 12 I. You won the race before it started. In our hearts, you were the champion: “Money, Kudi Owo”, we all chanted. You won the race! Before it started, The race’s trophy you were granted. But the khaki didn't let you carry-on! You won the race, before it started, In our hearts. You were the champion! II. Please, pray for us - in your grave There is more peace than up here; By poliTRICKS, the free turned slave. Please pray for us in your grave, None here can offer what you gave! Can't you see your people from there? Please pray for us! In your grave, There is more peace than up here.