Posts Tagged ‘poem’
Let the square roar exultantly
Let taut drum-skins boom flatteringly
And skilled dancers throw themselves like dust in the air;
Let’s lift our voices in high spirits, in the manner
Worthy of receiving our warriors when they return victoriously.
Let mothers now take the floor
let them mount on our admiration with their accustomed grace
Let them ride with the poise of veteran warriors
Because they took on evil at the gates
And licked our enemies before they could learn our secrets
Let them pride! let them make ako!
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[Culled from an ongoing work: Justice is not man-made]
How do you judge the betrayal of a body that not only survived the assault but prospered the seed of rape? Or what kind of redemption is in the healthy birth of such a child that reminds the mother of being ravaged by a beast? Apparently to my frail mind, such redemption may be as evasive as justice is elusive.
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Dazzling in their mystic garbs
Apostles of a late testament
They shield their faces inside a veil
And bear an emblem of a serpent, leprosy and blood -
All three signs of Moses.
These prophets carry strange fire on their heads
Noisy blinding firecrackers, unarmed,
All I make of them is a big suit full of hot air
Beclouding others with the pomp by which they discharge flatus
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I remember that night
We took a leisurely walk around the estate,
The dim street lights and soft shadows
Crafted by effect, a flirty twilight.
Occasionally, I took your hand,
Swinging to the gentle harmony of our mood…
In the park, while we rested on a concrete slab
Close by a fruit tree
Surrounded by stout flowery shrubs,
Do you remember the bliss of that night?
Beautiful, enchanted by the mild harmattan breeze
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I’m the rough voiced civil servant
Collecting my wages on the street
The public utility Landlord
Keeping the peace and collecting rent
I’m the government of roughnecks
Enforcing law and order underneath the grassroots
I’m an eccentric citizen, so what?
Make no mistake, I know my rights!
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Primeval is the lust to close the gap between man and his maker
But man is hardly satisfied for God to be the reconciler
Man ignores his debts and presumes he is his own savior
Than God’s Word, crucified, they decide they can use more
They have learnt how the spirit rules the physical
And so they study to be mystical -
Through extreme exercise to enter ‘the spirit’.
Today scientists research on how God is a lie
And mystics try by assorted rituals God to demystify.
Since the garden, man has challenged God’s knowledge
The desire to be His equal has thrown them over the safe edge.
Read the full article here …
I look at the spot, where the worst of Criminals died
[Golgotha’s place of a skull]
Save the case of the innocent man who himself sacrificed
For all transgressions to take the fall
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Whilst shafts of pain may transfix my soul
In the six by six of uncertain questions
Of this void and vague life-prison,
My heart, free as a bird
Will trace dawn’s golden streaks
Up my cell’s iron bars
To greet God’s grace in the morning.
Read the full article here …
Come O suffering wayfarer
I Am the Bread of Life
To the wells of salvation draw nearer
And quit from wayward strife
Come and be relieved of your guilt-burden
No matter how dark your taints
Come and find rest from vain laboring
At the fountain that births saints
Read the full article here …
Lagos is the land of bustle
Melting-crackpot of a metropolis
Our weather, business and temper mostly is hot
And our spirit always just manages to bubble
Between hitting humid roads and hitting sweaty sacks
Lagos life is one long traffic jam
From Monday to Friday, sunshine is our traffic light
But all roads will lead to where the party’s at
Come weekend, come the owambe nights.
Read the full article here …
