DEAR NIGHT

Goodnight!!! It’s time to taunt the night

In ambushes laid at fort noon

With barrels and land busters

Gather by this fireside

Deceased souls of the night

Whom night swallowed in peaceful sleep

From your shrouding blankets

That so kept you warm on soft Mouka beds.

The night is as wicked as dark

Hence let’s in ruthless rebellion

Draw down its tent,

Burn its curtain by this fireside

That it may have no shades

To hide it from the daylight

Or from the goodness of dawn,

And in large crusade guide it to dusk.

But how can one burn the curtains

Of a night unseen.

DEAR DEVIL

Dark Night; my soul is unyielding

It cares of no disdain, hell’s gift

Nor the evil to seduce my heart

To play your cards on earthly altars

Or dine widow’s thighs in cold nights

When goose bumps thrills me down

Or let my sanctuary lie in dirt

Perpetrated in your temples of deceit

Or wine the night in rocking pleasures

That smears my purity dark

Or dance when you pipe your flute

In crescendo and falling diminuendo,

In synagogues of prayer and spirit,

Or weary when by frustration

You drag the day to a close end

Or sink in vanities delusion

When you stroke the day with your ploys

Or with my wagging tail dust your feet

To cover my short errs

Or repose in your tent in delightful sleep

While Master holds a summit of saints

That wants no part of you.

Dear Devil, my soul is unyielding.

WHY I SHOULD MARRY A POET.

Reinvigorated; a refreshing thirst

Love’s satiable quest and guest

Ambient splendor built on

Intriguing similes and seductive metaphors

Such poet I will caress on marital garb.

I will marry a poet,

That on rainy days, when goose bumps swell

We will cuddle in books and loud imaginations

Telling the tales of Romeo and Juliet; love unlived

Or do you expect more from a subtle cuddle?

I will marry a poet,

What gladdens and elates than

A meal concocted in rhyming melodies

Of vehemently viable vivacious veritable virtues,

What hunger can’t this satiate.

I will marry a poet,

Her thoughts will spice my day

With glowing enthusiasm and love jingles

What more pleasures do I seek than repose in her?

Tell me why I should not marry a poet.

LOVE UNRETARDING

Drown yourself to my heart

The love I seek is divine

Devoid of pleasure's quest

And drumming fantasies of flesh,

Rid of consumation or thinkering lullabies,

Or dark days of depression.

The love I seek is divine,

Full of compassion and enthusiasm

Of care and unflickering transparency

Built on the firm rock of truth and life

Why then not drown yourself in my flowing tide

And let me paddle you away in this ship of love.

Be Glad!

KOM KOM

 Kom kom, the sound of a perceived emptiness

That rattles, metal gongs, anvil and the mallet.

The sound of hullaballoo with no rest cause

Wandering the day in idleness and lofty loaves

Its ignorance as bitter as almond freshers

The depth of it hollow; the deep blue sea

Basemen with no sight and gen

Who wangle the day as no nights come again

And dead night when oil lamps awake are

Snoring buffalos sniffing for darkness

In all comfort as Judas on a kiss.

Lies still and watch the day arise

Clocking to and fro time pending flees

Whilst wisdom waste in books you read not

And your faculty withers the chorus and refrain.

And your course of Sophia waste in ashes

As in your lousy morning chores

Evening vespers and night scholarships

And the sound of your emptiness eluding,

Chorusing Handel’s Messiah on B minor

Dilapidating, withering, sneering, you die away.

Kom kom iti kom kom the chorus dies fades

ERODING PLAIN

Our government is forged

On saggy and wobbly work bench

Of corruption and charade alike

And diluted in pain and misery

Of vivid past and present failures.

A living hell cascaded in lives citadel,

With dark night full of purging thorns

Where peace, a wild goose chase

Is ambushed on highways and lowlands

With landmines and double barrels.

Government of no societal sustenance

With fake manifestoes and cunning looks

And heavens promise of a better nation

But are misdemeanors of lively days

Rooted in sacrosanct evils and exploits.

Citizens roam the streets on warren stomachs 

Oppressed each day on tax levies and fines

As some pockets are wide open graves

That buries the padded budgets

And wrap them on national television.

An eroding nation of great nutrient

Ploughed by cantankerous warms

And  Herods of insatiable power

And lived by nationalists of no might.

Where lies the hope of renaissance?

Thus in the pangs of death we lie

And wait each day as revolutionaries

While we watch this land crumble

With our ever ready lullaby singing it to sleep

And dancing to the fall of her great walls.

ONCE UPON A NIMBLE CROSS.

Hanging Crucicix

Agonizing conquest divine

Torn apart in transgression’s parade

 By unrepentant sinners in confessionals

Smeared in errs, drunk in gourds of unchastity 

Bathed in muffled dirt and girded on fine linen of errors.

Draw this soul in pitiful grief as it wears away in turpitude

Ever lumbering tears as this eyes closes in dismay

In death’s agony as this blood and water flow

Hauled as a wood on the cross of distress

Pierced on resounding trials in Geths’

Daring Calvary Man.

TOWN CRIER

Gbom! Gbom!! Gbom!!!

Resounding clamor and thunderstorm   

All morning jingle wake; dusk’s lullaby

As this hamlet is bathed in silence

Dead tranquility; like the spirits tread the night, 

Whence tell the tale of a lost land.   

When this evening, the dull sun    

Who ushers the town crier

With gongs clamped; village mouthpiece

‘Tell the truth of night committee’

Saddened with your resonating tears

Of ways bashed in the tethering soil.              

Iti mmanwu! Masked gods

Tell of reverence and adulation gone

Of gods profaned by our very hands

Of stashed artifacts of Ijele quiescent,

Robbed of dignity and worthiness

And buried in our rigid hearts.

Egwu Onwa! The folk stride

Lament of Children locked behind bars

As the full moon sways the eerie night

With no grey by her fireside

Or kids to warm the cold squares 

Sorrowful, each full moon wanes in angst.          

       

Thin dry land forsaken of old ways

Wail of life lost in your quest

As your sprout wings abroad

And color your beginnings in mud,

When these days haunt you

I shall tell of the town criers lament.

OBODO

Rice Fields!

Flower to all inns

Flooded by every flowing stride

And in each day, children after birds

As grown heads toil these green lands till dusk.

FLUORESCENT STRIDE.

As I walk by this river

In this early morning dew

When its current so gently flow

And its slides part one another

I see parting lips in an enduring union

And I remember you are gone

Then I know you have become this stream

That tenderly nourishes us all

With refreshing water from thy slides

That mends the whole in my heart.

AGONIES ……….

We are like tufts of feathers

Bound in a blazing fire: Furnace

The tempest is high

A day as long as centuries

Torrential, Trial, Tears, Triumph

And each step a blade of mockery

Which pierces our hearts with remembrance.

Of the failures that keep us awake all nights

And deaths taunting of our unaccomplished lives

Yet tears that inhabit our darkest minds

That dare us to pull the lines on our innocent necks

And watch God’s breath drop from us.          

Whence the agony of an unaccomplished life

Is pain and anguish in the afterlife.

AND WHEN WE BE GONE !!!

Panic stricken wheezing hearts,

Covid if don’t take us now

Other things surely must take us one and other

Till lives irredeemable course

Rests it last from all delights.

Whence man a day be gone

And bequeath earth treasures lie

As he did once breathe it on mud

Why then not let death take its ton?

And smear all men gone a time.

Let the thought of going twice be,

If life is a time affair

That withers your like or not

Then why not go now the chance bare

And thinker it less eternity ever again.

Or do earth sybaritic wane your quest

It can’t hold you all long a day

It did let your off hook when you think less

And your sycophant premonitions lie waste

Your honor gone and magg’ts squam you.

If death take us all; the debt paid

What carcass by earths laws abide

Or cadaver breathe panic while feasted,

Then death’s rapture paid

And if God be, death dies and him glory.

Let your reign of terror height Everest

Sorrow wracked we mourn our days

A living hell in the tide of Christmas

That birth plagues on our heads

With Dube’s Prisoner our sole guard.

Hounds to hide in all ages

Prodigious technology and modern science

If you cure earths virus ‘morrow

And put no end to death

You have failed us.

Plunge all roots beyond

Scavenge earths finest brains

Wreck deaths wagon in oblivion

And unload its burden on us again

Your labor is a wild goose chase.

Hence lives debtors our humid lives

Give it sure and be free

Or do you care for some coffee

Take it to your grave

And listen gently to your dirge.

These words bemoan my thinking

Though I fear no deaths peril

And know if Great Lincoln did I would

Though quarantined cleave,

a prisoner to my soul.

If we live this hour and another

and the ferocious die of nature’s accordance

and man uncoils from his hole

Every now and then lives inimical still lingers

Cause death must ensue.

By the sword; honorable Caesar

And on road; cursed nature

If health wanes; natural submission

And of the barrel; outrageous vagabonds

Same death, same name.

But when all lockdowns be open gates

Casinos and night clubs swim drunk threats

Priests on holy pulpits preach holiness again

And lecture halls bloom with elegance

Don’t think deaths tolls won yet.

Let death toast us to its tiredness

Were we shall drink full to anxiety

And mourn all evening of its taunts

That pinch us to dismay

For its thirst is insatiable.

I SHALL WRITE YOU A LOVE LETTER

 

I shall write you a

love letter my love

With lines so lengthy and eclectic

That its length could measure

The world’s Chinese great walls

And tell the stories of our cuddles.

It’s first lines shall tell thus

Of your marvelous beauties

Of your kiss that deaden my thighs

And of your love that beguiles me

And just the sigh of my nerves.

 

My tongues missie fasts along

Please hold your love awhile,

Lives jamboree all cling to me

And your thoughts of good

Pervades my loneliness.

Morning chants awaken my dismal night

And my distressed day’s anxiety forth,

The day’s burden all draw me weary

And of night’s sleepless days livid

But your thoughts give all elation.

I live the days as if I own ‘morrow

And the sunsets again arise

The night to return soonest

Will you be there again to keep me on

Oh! Dearest Missie

VAL’NOON

The day is a hot furnace in harmattan

With no East winds to blow it cool

As man deed’s wrecks the innocent day

In the turmoil of erratic ecstasy

Nipping the buds of fruitful springs

With an open secret invitation to winters taunting’s.

Am home again!!!

And I have arrived yet again

On these virgin mountains.

Serene and peaceful this god land

Ever ready to absorb my solemn tears

A comforter of a ruined generation

The finder of the lost ones.

It’s still silence cricks

My thoughts so perverted by loneliness

And the pleasures of mankind

All crushed against my will.

Lives nosey and the boisterous looted world

Are distant from my path now again.

I walk a lonely path

And thread red lines at night

My heart is so outpouring

Lives savaged thoughts outgone

The glories of a past world gone

My soul belongs to God now.

I have come a long way

And I have made a shade of recuperation

On these high mountains of purity

Kept my soul therein from sweltering sunlight

That it may be refreshed once again

When I take to my knees in the dusk shade.

My soul belongs to God

And my heart thirsts for him.

I hope to discover Him

In these virgin mountains

Where I have pitched my soul

That it may be away from the scorching light.

RISE PROCRUSTEAN

A termagant wench foe

With a velvet skin below

Jolted down the jalopy

Moving through the rays so sloppy.

Beamed from a dazzling beauty

Strewed along lonely and dewy

Counting with his fingers the paws

‘which forbade the laws.

Wondering why procrustean failed

Like woods which under the fire laid

Dreaming of worlds of mind existence

With fortunes of non-precise

And he goes home thinking about the radicals

Strolling and waiting the proposed practical’s

When the radicals will proclaim procrustean

For all to bend to it and lean.

THE WANGLE OF IRONY

Auspices; A prelate’s rejoinder

The prorata of his down the poster

Sailing on a sea of traitors      

 A nation divided against itself holds.

Nauseating and ugly

Broad on pirates, on surf boats of anxiety

Mouths who speak infallible

The sales talk may know talks

Deep down the tall tunnel.

Laying a plate of niggle

Those of who are the frets

Voices of the isles shouts

Proprietor! Who is your sole guard?

And vase unhangs on the pole

Taken long ago old

A kingdom against itself holds

Deep down the deep tunnel

Mean’t I in those words

Him a nitwit a better proposal

Cumbered in the dull tunnel

So sacrosanct a frantic.

Give not a rusk to the children

It causes an unceasing harm

Deep down the deep tunnel.

Anna; the caricature laugh

Be as wise as twice

For backing the nincompoop is twice

My folly is the braveness of my mind

For you aren’t the chum

Who fears my ultimatum

For in a moo I shall return

With those haunting lines

Deep down the tunnel

THE TRAITORS

Them with overhanging brows

Are the traitors to ourselves               

Who hang with dauntless breast

And sail a ship of gossip.

Tingles of pride in them full

Who cling under the yoke of disgust

And perambulate with red painted lips

Fashioned above rejection.

Encircle and hang around you

Like a weevil in the rice field

Letting warm emotions run your heart

You will only but fall for it.

Then they’ve got all their needs

And once your haunting dreams perished

And you wangle all along them

To puff and sail along.

ANXIETIES

Long thoughts of the ages outpour

Tears that ravages life re-occur

Like capuchin friars on the mount

Of thorns bid under the hot eye ball in bount’

Bestride the threshold

Deep sown in groaning thy moment uphold

Forgotten each moment as history

Think less down the sloppy mystery.

Contemplating anxiety that lay waste

Recoiled ideas well paste

Thou the perished beyond ever lasting

Breathing in the thighs of live undiluting.

Sorrows hanging, old predicted

Life piled on that deep restricted

Mourning lies want to you

Forgotten long the lines in a moo.

Thou wilt resurrect

Sufferings old predict

On the minds of the anxious

Who rode on the life of luxurious.

COMPLAINT OF LOVE

A love that went so quickly
A time spent so deeply
The only way of using it
Was to break a fortune beneath

The questioned asked
Is the meaning of love defined
Everyone would love to hear one thing
And that is that love is an affection

In my time to live
I have seen the word love
As a wild affair
That leads to a heart of despair.