AMERICANISED AFRICANISED BULLIES

Soon reality became my swastika

I thought bullies only dwelled in Africa

Until I left the shores to America

One slap erased my mascara



Another one exorcised my shakara

It possible to confused amala with Amara

The movies didn't help the ankara

Fine houses filled with Akara

Would be my meal nsuto nkara



Soon the bullies came both male and female

Some darker some pale

Their very culture started to impale

The African in me became for sale!



Two weeks out of my village

My accent is now a versace

Fashion of the facade

Others I see the retard

Bullies everywhere even in our backyard

Cultural shock for the retards

who don't believe in the African rise

Bullies everywhere....what a tide!


To my foreign readers nsuto nkara is an ibibio language meaning what lies....
Shakara is pidgin meaning  swag
Ankara is a tradition African linen used in Africa
Amara Is someone's name from igbo extraction

DREAMS

When my eyes are closed
Another opens in wonder
To the marvelous agenda
In my head about many genders
With closed eyes I ponder
Thoughts asunder
At the marvelous eyes and their hunger
Another world yonder
When you close your eyes hanger
Images stronger than thunder
Dissolved in all your wonder
That is the dream
Images flooded on ice cream

MENTAL BATTLES

Where will I pitch my tent?

Will be tall fair purple or black!?

Tall short medium or slack?

Slice big large flat buttocks?

All of them got butts



Will it be the one that greet good morning

After the eating and drinking will there be moaning?

All of them comes with mornings

will it be the beautiful shy, always running? ???

Where will I gather my village?

A four star pillage?

Or a simple green terrace

Which of them will give me the courage

And will never be afraid of my rage?

Which of them can build a broken image?

Who will look only at my garage

Those people who only see the mirage

And spits on simple adage



Who will share my tent????

For once I sing

And the heavens quip

It has been signed

By then it going to be a long way

With my precious

Whosoever she is.....

DEEPER THOUGHTS INTO THE NIGHT

Many souls are wasted in hatred

Genocides...yet pain are not debated

Still on the altars of the segregated

Lives on the balance are shredded



Without love they burn

With religion they philter

Without knowledge they suffer

With all...They become unbelievable gangster



Around our skin lies this ethnic disease

The blame shift and religious believes

Political mischieve

Societal hatred they conceive



All around the night

They segregate even the grass

How can you purge chlorophyll from plants?

Africa! My Africa!! What are your plans

Bent heads are sad, not deep in thoughts

The smiling face grieves in hurt

Good men chased from their hut

Greed and hatred, they bled and rot

Deeper things of ours, left in the mud

My heart bent in distrust



Many souls are worn on soles

If treachery could be hung on poles

Innocence not buried in the cold

Patriotism isn't hoarded on ethnic nepotism

Bribery weren't in the police periphery

My deeper thoughts in the night

Would be Africa buried in black diamonds

Shaped in black

Caped deeper into the night

VOTE DONT FIGHT

He kept a clear head

His manifesto no red tapes

A clear line of action for the youth

His pride.....The man from the roots



Soon  the commercials came

The phantom shenanigans games

He swore no evil by name

This is politics! Don't be lame!!!!!

The camera and the crowd showed him fame

The game and men he administered blame

This isn't the promise at the helm



This is politics everyone can't be helped

Soon he forgot the men who sowed

Under the harsh sun....The cold he reaped

The tattered and wretched he quipped

Should wait he must be very quick



When they gathered to speak the mongering

The celebration celebrated their mourning

Their mornings bellowed a thousand moaning

The golden street he boasted is snoring

Reeking of pity and disgust

While his one room office has a thousand flowers

Ointments and Americanised odour eaters

While our pillow is a gutter full of bloody heaters



His head is clear again

Our thumbs are not in pains

Vote we must!

Vote we will!

We need to share this mosquitoes

we need to share your plans

Your clear head

For every vote we give!

Is a better Nigeria

Vote not fight!

INTELLECTUAL INVASION

Yesternight was another dream

In between foreign claim

Lights and butterflies in ethereal realm

Where there is love of the lame

The elders mocked my thoughts

I was human so were there!

An American dream.....

Tied in between the Sunday chicken

Packaged gifts every Christmas

Last night...I had a different dream



A dream of gongs and tripod beigns

Carved out of woods and iron

Dipped in mystics and folklores

Masquerades and ceremonial bygones



A different dream........

Mead from the horrors

Poverty

Wars

Pestilence



A dream of green leaves around

Beautiful sunlight

Amidst opened beautiful flowers

Butterflies mocking the gleeful children

Away from the dreams of foreign definition of Africa