Fear has become my companion
Reaching out from the depth of my guts
Taking bites of my heart, beat by beat
Fear has become my companion
Wringing out the last pellets of welcome
Reluctantly from gates, fences and bullet proofing
Fear has become my companion
Keeping my stories from the communal fire
Baring laughter from devotees at the shrine
Fear has become my companion
Trudging behind every bank collapse
Behind every saving lost to sharper suits
Fear has become my companion
Staring out from each checkpoint eyes
Eyes that have seen death in napkins
Fear has become my companion
Friends, foes and in between share my fate
Bombs are wrapped in swathing clothes
Fear has become my companion.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, 26 May 2012
Saturday, 19 May 2012
Monday, 14 May 2012
This life my friend is not poetry
This world my friend is not poetry.
You don't have to tell me
The words have lost their luster
Like scabs on old wounds
Flakes of expensive paint
Hanging on crumbling nations
This is not poetry you say
Not a soaring epic of gods and battles
Or magic, witches and fairies
No monsters no goblins no spirit children no deities
The battle is done and the battlefield
marvels at the stupidity of it all
This epic is silent
This is no poetry
Of course not.
What worlds do you wish into being
What words do you weave now?
The incantations evoke only cold dreams
The ancestors do not hear the repetitions of the divining marbles
Sango o. Amadioha o.
Seek no contrivance of rhythm or candence
The fires that made them split hills are long gone
This is not poetry
But how can it be?
The song has left the singer
Who is to ask why?
The river is dry and the fish are dead
The grass is burnt and the plain is dead
Which song do you seek?
A dirge of the crocodiles beside the dying river
Or The cry of the elephant at the death of another bull
This life my friend is not poetry.
No wail of love lost and forgotten
No Romeo spewing his guts beside a castle bound lass
Romance is bewildered, waking up with new hangovers in strange beds
Love has left their hearts
And now bombs are strapped on doves, wives and children
The embrace is tighter and so are the daggers
This is not poetry
And there is no poetry to spout
No rhythm to wind up passions
Piercing hearts and clouding reason
Sending men to die for nought
Brave men leaving their wives for the cowards to inherit
Brave hearts pulping pity and charity for deities that will promise and fail
Yes, this is no poetry
My friend, this is not poetry.
The poets have lied and died
Their words are stuck halfway from life and from death
Their bones are left for the vultures
The vultures have lost their feathers and the desert is dry
Who will sing the dirge now the tambourine is broke
Whose drums will wake up the spirits
Which incantation shall follow the libation?
Who will return the message to the gods?
This world my friend is not poetry
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
And Samuel told the people
And Samuel told all the words of the Lord unto the people that asked of him a king.
And he said, This will be the manner of the king that shall reign over you:
He will take your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his chariots, and to be his horsemen; and some shall run before his chariots.
He will take your sons and appoint them for himself, jesters and clowns, desperate for his nod and his smile counting their worth by the number of bootsteps on their back .
And he will appoint him captains over thousands, and captains over fifties; and will set them to ear his ground, and to reap his harvest, and to make his instruments of war, and instruments of his chariots.
He will take your grounds , and what is below it, and what is above it, and your homestead and your ancestral land.
You will foul your water, poison your welcomes and murder your brother to gain his glance.
And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers.
He will take your daughters of the full breasts and wide of hips to fill his beds and the beds of his courts and of his jesters.
He will paint them in blood and ash and charcoal and cloak them with rags. And you will admire their decay and celebrate their farts.
And he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and your oliveyards, even the best of them, and give them to his servants.
Yea and your beaches , and high places and the things you revere will be mortgaged for debts your sons and their sons even to the tenth generation will not pay off.
And he will take the tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and give to his officers, and to his servants.
And he will take your menservants, and your maidservants, and your goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work.
And put them to his pleasure and to his robbery. You will pay to be in the queue to wash his asses and clean his sty . Yea, you will fight to sleep with his dogs
He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye shall be his servants. (1 Samuel 8:10-17 KJV)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
And he said, This will be the manner of the king that shall reign over you:
He will take your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his chariots, and to be his horsemen; and some shall run before his chariots.
He will take your sons and appoint them for himself, jesters and clowns, desperate for his nod and his smile counting their worth by the number of bootsteps on their back .
And he will appoint him captains over thousands, and captains over fifties; and will set them to ear his ground, and to reap his harvest, and to make his instruments of war, and instruments of his chariots.
He will take your grounds , and what is below it, and what is above it, and your homestead and your ancestral land.
You will foul your water, poison your welcomes and murder your brother to gain his glance.
And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers.
He will take your daughters of the full breasts and wide of hips to fill his beds and the beds of his courts and of his jesters.
He will paint them in blood and ash and charcoal and cloak them with rags. And you will admire their decay and celebrate their farts.
And he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and your oliveyards, even the best of them, and give them to his servants.
Yea and your beaches , and high places and the things you revere will be mortgaged for debts your sons and their sons even to the tenth generation will not pay off.
And he will take the tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and give to his officers, and to his servants.
And he will take your menservants, and your maidservants, and your goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work.
And put them to his pleasure and to his robbery. You will pay to be in the queue to wash his asses and clean his sty . Yea, you will fight to sleep with his dogs
He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye shall be his servants. (1 Samuel 8:10-17 KJV)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Who will not die?
Who will not die?
The rich will die
The poor will die
The king will die
The slave will die
The murderer will die
The victim will die
The falcon will die
The hunter will die
The gunsmith will die
Who will not die?
The man will die
The woman will die
The child will die
The young man will die
The old man will die
The fetus will die
The maggot will die
The butterfly will die
The lizard will die
The frog will die
Who will not die?
The saint will die
The sinner will die
The priest will die
The parishioner will die
The judge will die
The prisoner will die
The soldier will die
The assassin will die
The conjurer will die
The sacrificial will die
The sacrificer will die
Who will not die?
The musician will die
The dancer will die
The innocent will die
The guilty will die
The harbinger will die
The crop will die
The forest will die
The ant will die
The elephant will die
Who will not die?
The palace will die
The hovel will die
The village will die
The city will die
The lineage will die
The kingdom will die
The empire will die
Who will not die?
Death will not die
Laughter will not die
Charity will not die
Faith will not die
Pain will not die
Struggle will not die
Liberation will not die
Memories will not die.
Memories of who you were
Memories of who you touched
Memories of smiles brought
Memories of laughter taken
Memories of widows fed
Memories of hope.
Memories will not die.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The rich will die
The poor will die
The king will die
The slave will die
The murderer will die
The victim will die
The falcon will die
The hunter will die
The gunsmith will die
Who will not die?
The man will die
The woman will die
The child will die
The young man will die
The old man will die
The fetus will die
The maggot will die
The butterfly will die
The lizard will die
The frog will die
Who will not die?
The saint will die
The sinner will die
The priest will die
The parishioner will die
The judge will die
The prisoner will die
The soldier will die
The assassin will die
The conjurer will die
The sacrificial will die
The sacrificer will die
Who will not die?
The musician will die
The dancer will die
The innocent will die
The guilty will die
The harbinger will die
The crop will die
The forest will die
The ant will die
The elephant will die
Who will not die?
The palace will die
The hovel will die
The village will die
The city will die
The lineage will die
The kingdom will die
The empire will die
Who will not die?
Death will not die
Laughter will not die
Charity will not die
Faith will not die
Pain will not die
Struggle will not die
Liberation will not die
Memories will not die.
Memories of who you were
Memories of who you touched
Memories of smiles brought
Memories of laughter taken
Memories of widows fed
Memories of hope.
Memories will not die.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Sunday, 31 December 2000
A death so suddenly died
A separation so dreaded has come
The harmattan marks the course of our tears with
Ravines and mastiffs in the wilderness of pain so suddenly painful
What do we tell the mother that remembers the pains of labour
The kite has carried off the chick
The eagle has snatched the lamb
The feast in their eyrie is torn from our hearts
What do we replace her hopes with?
A death so suddenly died
Laughter so suddenly stopped echoes in our loneliness
A memory so suddenly paused flickers still in our wails
What do we tell the cub that has lost a play mate?
The dog did not return the stick.
The chorus has gone with the singer
The koso is playing by itself
Who do we ask that will answer us?
Death so suddenly died
Memories so suddenly frozen.
For Chioma Ayogu.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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