THE MAD KING

For all she was a Rauspidour

Yet she dined the swamp

Just to prove to all the land

A defying daughter of the man!



She taught legends to myth

Tarnished superstitions and hoax

Created a Kingdom, the swamp yield

To the rambles of a Rauspidour spring



If she takes the name of a basted

who else defy such a man?

A lovely spring of a loved woman

The only one!...If she wasn't hung on a tree!



How can two kings rule a tiny Kingdom?

He taught about it hard overnight

The next night

The swamp had candles all over the dirty water

IDUMOTA

Every time I pass Idumota

I love the dangling bridges above the gutters

That reveal dirty roof and rafters

Of humans, all in the street of Ojota



As I pass the bridge of Idumota

I appreciate the divide between the island and Ijora

That mixes emotions in restive Ojuelegba

How the rich makes Lagos a dump of triumph



As I walk the streets of Ajegunle

I feel the pains of Ibikunle

The excesses of Papa Kunle

Impregnating the sister of Kehinde



Is this population not tiring for you Shola?

Why encourage your sister Bola?

To populate the over populated Ijora!

You can imagine what crosses my mind, when am in Ojota!

CALABAR SOUTH

This city is lost

Burried in ancient pillars of wine and lust

Feuding on blood and utter disgust

Their pride is in being lost



This ancient city has Burried many kings

Youths lost in their revolt for drinks

Selling nothing but death to the weak

Choking whomsoever wants a new rethink



This city has lost its value

Bathing in past glories, lost in its avenue

Youths perishing on faltering retinue

It's grandeur is suffering rot! Must this continue?



What epitaph of rotteness is this???

Rotten beings eponymous to a deity

As melee in anxiety

This is no mellifluous meld of praise!...pity!



Is there a legacy left?

Or a dance with meerschaum of advance theft?

If nothing stops this trend of maudlin deft

Where none appreciates nor complain this drift


Calabar with its alluring landscape

with blood feuding on the sands about to escape

into oblivion, for none to arrest the scape

To warn the young and elders to escape



This city has lost its ideals

Fleecing their children and feeding them peril

Fathers dancing in absent degree

Offering nothing but violence...that's the disease



How lofty are the ideals of this land

Sinking the youths in bands

Old men progressing and dancing as planned

While decay catches up the youths of the land

LORD THUNDERBOLT: FRAGILE SERVICE

LORD THUNDERBOLT: FRAGILE SERVICE: He stood on shrill shells Empty with pains of the years Shrill shells brought tears Theatres of pain brought rain Don't forget thei...

FRAGILE SERVICE

He stood on shrill shells
Empty with pains of the years
Shrill shells brought tears
Theatres of pain brought rain

Don't forget their thoughts
Opprobrium angels that hurt
All the fragile mock
For "our" love and the thorns


Fragile neck of service to the "land"
Here no "man" deceives no man
No snakes to picket the hand
All for the "love" of "our" land!

Bigots, despots and nepotic brethrens
Heartless surreptitious heathens
Fiendish friends for fresh smidgen
Vapours of love soaked in poisons


Tomorrow is pregnant
For "all"
Not some...not all
Brothers to all...friends to none

Our lovers...Our brothers
Immortal fathers
Deceitful mothers
All fragile in service

Shrill sweat screams!
Valour! Honour! And horrors!
In filth and glory
Fragile minds...same story

Our service. ..Our nation
Bitter legions
Fragile regions
Sold to sullen service

A PASSING GLANCE

It wasn't you i wanted to see

It wasn't time and place to say

The sun blazing and sweat swaying

I wanted to see imo, just in waiting



you took a glance and made the move

Taking me off my feet and moving my heart

Asking questions and making demands

To know what glance it was?



A passing glance

A daunting stance

A yearning heart, a hearing pace

At a heart that flows with smile and dance



Join me...my melody

Precious stones of trilogy

Like a brigand dancing in monopoly

Calling my heart to a secret ideology

LOST TEARS OF THE HEART

She stood there with frozen tears

From all her years

Those bitter plea as he spoke his sweet

A faithful pain caressing her ears



Deep in thoughts, the mind lost

Fires cracking from heated frost

Her pains dissolved on a liquid purse

Another glance...another pain on her hands



Her meek heart betrayed his passion

His tears made her many mansions

Shattered lineage of broken inactions

Still hung on the pains of yester year's emotions



All that was ever said

Was just too late

In between her legs

Lay another head

THE OLD THIEF

He sat still and drew empty stares

Boisterous smiles

Cocked head

Naked emotions on his aged face



Threadbare bones on heavy raiment

shiny skull betrayed the tired smile

Shady deals on his mind

While the attackers marauded behind



Memories of his fleeing youth

conquered every fear of a frail boot

He now wears! Thinner than the 'loot'

His memories a thousand fleeing demons!



Every head shook in those failures

The open eye that now caresses the coal tar

Apart from a faded smile

That still hung on his unfinished memories

IN MEMORY OF THOSE SLAIN CORPERS IN POST ELECTION VIOLENCE 2011

The fan fare has ended

hollowed glory and slender joy

Has evaporated without reality

Snails of victory prelude defeat



Hail the wail for the uniform

'They' promised to conform

With reforms

Venerated figures has begun



Some joys are mixed with a twist of pain

Celebrations are mixed with gains

Some stories, others tales of the rains

Accommodated regimented blame are games



The fanfare of little gods

Others lush. ..others poor

Some tales...others mere stories

Some their fibre still shakes in their core

FLUTE FOR THE gods

The hot liquid

Caress the silent gavel

The spirits shared bouts of love

Opprobrium men readied fate



Some for injustice

Others for freedom of some poultice

Veneration and atrocious ills

Let the gods decide for men are biased!



If men whisper the bribery to gods

The piper their mouth piece

Who says the spirits are not biased??!

Masquerades a kind piece of all kinds



Blankets of opinions and confused men

Is the flute of the gods

The mystery hoick,  who knows?

If they are gods! Why dance to our flutes and wine??

SHATTERED DREAMS

The best peace

Is when the best of heads

Walks amongst the novice

With no shoulder lifted



when the richest walks amongst the poor

With no prejudice

No pride

But love in their eyes as they smile



the greatest of peace

Is the teacher that doesn't abandon

His weakest of students

nor Shame them in their weakness



Peace us when the ignorant wants knowledge

And knowledgeable mem guide their utterances

And the lowest of men

Never afraid of the injustices of  king

NYSC CAMP UMUDI....A night before we left.....

The braillic sun Finally shew her face

All the cold rains

Hearts of gold melt wax

Dissolved in the mud of Umudi



All hail! Hurray! It is finally over!

They sang out their tougues

And merry away their wallets

Smearing our world on moulded pallets



If the sun smile tomorrow

Will it wash 'their' sorrow?

Their glory could become hollow

Pains have become their pillow



While they congratulate

And copulate

I hope we are late

Not too late to regret!?

UNITED NIGERIAN AGAIN.....

My brothers please hold 'our hands'

Don't let us wander like lambs

Roaming the land

Intelligent cowards of  mine



Please my fathers why the stance?

We the 'youths are in a trance

Do we have a future? We are not here to dance!

We are not irresponsible and it's no lie



Our 'country' of old is changing

The innovation of our world is branding

Our ethics is crashing

Everyone passes the blame debating!



My brothers, out hands are not tied

There is so much to do....don't shy

Hold our minds...so it doesn't stay dried

We want change!  Let's be United first...are we tired????

FORBIDDEN LOVE

Her heart still beat for me

Even with all my wrongs

Mine keeps beating for her

Forbidden things are so sweet



We can't be together anymore

Our secrets haunts more

Macabre truths flaunts ore

Bare love reveals it's core



Our heart still beats

Even in 'sleep' it beeps

Cold nights. ..rips

My heart..Our love...faucets of  chips



Through all our wrongs

Our love still strong

Like a broke  song

With pitch...All day long

ABOKI ZO MANA!

Aboki Aboki zo mana!

The children in the street called

Cows wagged their tails to the mallam

Their children beg for inspection madam



Our children pelt the devastating cows

That digged the farms

And the cows ran the van

The mallam demanded their tiny hands



Or a greater harm

One dead cow is better than our clan

And we pondered the harm on our land

His priced asset remains our legs and hand



Fulanis! !!!

What is a dead cow to a human life?

Next time they scream Aboki zo mana!

I must make them visit their grand mother

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JILTED MEN

Come let's look

The bridesmaid called

The groom is beautiful than the bride

And 'her' acquaintances are here!



Her matted Marbles never shone

Celebrated designers hung

Like a plastic sun

Dissolved in her troubles...her runs



The groom smiles stuck some daggers

Through the competition  and beggars

Of her wares...tougues wagger

At 'their' unconstitutional drama



The lovers marched in stilettos

Acquaintances see only 'their' wares of ego

Blunted by a novice in silhouette

Smiling at hardened calcified anger of lost wallets!

BOKO A HARM?

They all chorused ''western education is sin''

Their guns speak above the din

I wonder how they created bullets with tin?

Throw away your bombs, phones and western inventions to the bin



They are neither here nor there

Claiming jihad on what they can't adhere

involving innocent minds who should be here

Building cities with the zeal they bear



Allah the Almighty, all merciful...

If they are true followers of Allah...Why are they harmful?

Calling on a holy name before a kill is reproachfully

Isn't it?...If it is God.....how shameful



If all technology is sin...who created the bombs?

Was it eastern education?...how dumb

All of you brain  washed youths are the stump

That never grew...They all became lumps

THE NIGERIAN ARMY

This moulded dust fighting over boredom

Raised in victory over freedom

Blended with the earth in fiefdom

They never sought their kindred nor Kingdom



This dust reminds of our veiled comrades

We have not forgotten their voices and the vices

Ideology of religious ethnic prices

We have paid in full and our prize is the ''surprise''



Though the hail sweep off all this dust

in our minds a piece Is the 'mountain' rust

Broken trust and hegemonic last

this same moulded dust! Will it ever burst?!



Though we roll over, our lives going under

Though we die...We will never surrender

over terror and brazen murder

Our own is our home! No kindred! This is our order!

I want to use this timeout to say to every reader on this blog that... I have been somewhere safe...researching and learning...truth is we will have more of what we missed... ...The poetry will keep coming again...I've been where there was terrible network....so am back for good..let's watch out for more poetry!

HOLED COUNTRY

Sensible justice masked in equity

Masked plunderers fight wars in 'amity'

Smiles of day burns the night

our blackened land poisons edible plants



'doved' affairs strangles their heir

''Crowns''...'They' demand our hair

Unity tarts so rare

Mangrove 'lions' have become the prey



'We' spoke in silence, 'they' spoke in 'tougues'!

We pray and they banish us like monks!

'We' cower and it has prolonged

while the rich men hoard poverty



Our 'crude' tears rolled down several creeks

Population of the desert became the 'creed'

How could the desert be more populated than the 'creeks'?!

While fertile lands harbour more ghost with 'reeds'!

I have seen my neighbours

their pet names abhors

It doesn't exalt

our lip neighbours...fetish demeanours



I have seen their flutes of mammon

Lip service haunts daemons

Sweet oranges turn sweet lemons

Ethnicity is the divisive felon



have you seen ''our'' manor?

Rich in hurt and fallow in love of honour

songs of soprano needs no tenor?

''our'' neighbours...'king' of the manor!



Our neighbours are owners of wild oats!

And demand for our milky goats

Our fallow crops has became no 'road'

Deserts have suddenly become our ''loads''



Have you seen 'our ' neighbours?

That sell our children like cattle

and warn us never to scuttle

Their chances of a cracked marble



Our neighbours have great 'faith'

Cartoons in Denmark gave us ''cracks''

Isreal and Palestine have become 'the' attack

We are 'dark' far away from their lands!



Have you seen our neighbours!

That condone religious labour?

Our 'black gold' is their rubour

and they whip us to ''stupor''!



Have you seen them? As if we are one!

They say it to our faces, while we gavel the crumbs

May their pipers never defeat those 'bumps'

Our mighty neighbour. ..Our parcel of worms!

THE GREAT NELSON MANDELA

I know how Madiba felt

Every time the pains pelt

His mind and the walls melt

The love of his people tied around him like a belt

The emotional struggle in his mind to stay alive

Not to bury his country's freedom made him live

Through torture he persevered…inspired

To give death to the racism of life

Every time his name was sung in the streets

Dust ruptured and the people tortured their feet

Dancing for hope that cannot be split

Bring back Nelson Mandela to Soweto bridge

For 27 years he waited like a genie in a bottle

Holding unto life, gathering the throttle

To give freedom to 'Aristotle'

Who holds plans 'he' wishes to scuttle

 

Am glad every time I hear Nelson Mandela!!

It should give hope to people of 'Madalla'

Who has blood stains in hidden babariga

Freedom is perseverance…ask ''Babangida''

I can imagine the joy when Nelson Mandela was freed

The streets was filled with reeds

Even the gods haven't such honour, even in Greece!

Dried bones rattled in Zulu…look at his deeds!

Doves couldn’t fly about, they flew in thick clusters

They was no space to the Xhosa master

Sun of Shaka Zulu with a golden scepter

Freedom Mandela they all hailed!...all the street Rasta's

I know how it felt when he was free

Like a phoenix, he always dreamt, big dreams!

Of such a great day…in his dreams he had nightmares

He never knew he may have to sleep 27 years before the gleam!

JANGO OF TERROR

The shrill cry shred the night

And their fathers poured another round of palm wine

The women smiled the 'relieve'

The moon calmed the solar jaundice!

If  ''they'' now sit to steam wine

Their bent heads hung the swine

The women that sang then, now tie chains

To their tattered wrapper

He dares terror as he comes

A peaceful village now drinks cauldrons of war

For a bundle of wine and goodwill

How times have changed ''Jango of Otukpo''!

The same night shrills as he threads!

The wine hung on all their necks

If you debate…don’t! just donate

To Jango…or lose your neck

THE MEDIOCRITY OF EDUCATIONAL SERVITUDE

The tired faces of the mass servants

Begrudging with long crosses on empty stomachs

Face strained by confusion rather than anger

For the lord of the mass to serve the Eucharist

              

Who had starve them with even the “lords bread”

Shared abroad to “friends” with a grin

But to servants and strangers a frown at their procession

Not even the reverend, who are lords only by the mass servants

Welcome or a tear at their mass servant exit

They believe that “our” money will lure new converts

To share in others travails from uncultured seminarians

Who with unwashed hands share the Eucharist to…

The susceptible congregation who can only watch

But cannot participate

Can only talk

But their opinions are as good as none

WEEKLY DIARY

My weekends are always filled with a dullness and ardent trepidation of staying all alone at home while the lovers prune their feathers in a coquetted adventures, well sorry for such prelude, my name is Deborah, a male, in his twenties…hi everyone!

My apartment have a lushed green paintings on the wall, serene, well lit and the chirping of the birds makes lovers and precarious artist to long for such peaceful ambience while they indulge in their tripartite state, every weekend I speak my passions and failures to my diary and cry peaceful tears while the source of annoyance dissolves the ink ferociously slashing the dull white paper.

This weekend seems a little bit different because I have this neighbor, young intelligent, never touch me type of a girl who admires my apartment and envies my little diary and every week she sneaks in to take a peep at my naughtiness and today she came undressed…stark!

Well trust me, you know I don’t see those kind of stuffs, she called from the parlour that I should hurry that she is missing something today and with such hurry I meet her dressed all inside my head and she handed the invitation to a party in her room, 'just the two of us' she then winked and walked away suggesting my passion and the failure of my weekend pains has suddenly been answered, with a sinister smile she rolled her eyes like the flashing akara to a hungry man!

Testosterone adrenaline combo is a bad piece of events! Suddenly she called again…the party is now 'fine boy' my neighbor is beautiful tall fair and shinny kind of a woman that has never showed any sort of chumminess, but today is an adventure and today we must find the reason behind those beautiful smile and that cold attitude, first I screamed back 10 minutes I will be there!  

I took my bath sprayed my best perfume, sprayed my mouth wash and looked a thousand times the mirror and then swaggishly approached her apartment and suddenly my phone rang……..to be continued next week

Love from Tara