Wednesday, August 1, 2012

poem: Usain Bolt 2

Cometh the hour
Cometh man
Lo, the Olympic sprint
Behold the legend
Usain Bolt

Usain "Lightning" Bolt
A Bolt of lightning
A spurt of jet
A sleight of feet

Usain "Hermes" Bolt
Forged in the stars
An Olympian god
Banished to earth
To race time, space
With mortals

Usain Bolt
O mortal sprinters
Tremble before this legend
Hermes, among men?

There sprints Usain "Lightning" Bolt
Whence come the others?



Those who read this also liked:

Usain "Lightning" Bolt
Barack Obama, The One
The King of Pop, A Ballad
Men of God

Thursday, April 22, 2010

poem: GRAVE DIGGERS

With spades, pointed like a mouse
Bit by byte,
Ageless threads, by immortal authors
They dig

Minds rumbling
Eyes zapping
They seek

Now and then
Riches of the ages, or scums from the past
Buried bruises, aging agony
Silent sadness, sacred sayings
They find

Thither, whither their spades
Pointed like a mouse’s
Bit by byte
Ageless threads, by immortal authors
To the fore, they bring

Grave diggers
Man mole they are?



Those who read this, also read:

Fleeting Breath (Aka Dying Diane)

Beyond Death

I pass my neighbour




Tuesday, March 9, 2010

poem: MURDER AT DAWN

Night marauders of Jos
Fulani herdsmen they are

Masked in pitch darkness
As black as their souls
Cloaked in bitterness
And volcanic anger, like Mount Vesuvius
With machetes, cutlass, and guns
On the Plateau they descend
Before the first crow of the cock

Blood thirsty men versus sucklings,
Nursing mothers and elderly
Pitted against rampaging Fulani herdsmen
Their squeaky cries of anguish met with
Shrill battle cries

Babies and toddlers
They weaned from mothers’ breasts
Their innocent gaze met with deadly mien
Their tender flesh, they pierced
With jagged blades
Death they sold
To terrified, and fleeing victims

Mothers and babes
Now august visitors
Of their generous maker
As we approach the ides of March

Night marauders of Jos
Fulani herdsmen they are
They gorged their bellies full
With the blood of babies
And tears of the town
Back into the dark they slipped
To revel and chant, perhaps
Under the shades, prepared by their patrons
Patting one another
On the back, with blood soiled palms
For their dastard deeds

Night marauders of Jos
Humans they were
Demons they are
Accursed are they!

Those who read this, also read:

Fleeting Breath (Aka Dying Diane)

Beyond Death

I pass my neighbour

Deadly Chatter

Fatal Fall



Sunday, January 31, 2010

poem: FAUX QUAKE

The trembling earth
Sent them running
Helter, skelter
Like soldier ants from
A flooded nest
Clutching their phones
As some lives depend on it
Screaming wildly,
To loved ones

Out of homes they pour
Memories of Haiti
Fill their minds
Striking the fear
Of the Lord
Into their fainting hearts

Tremors here,
Rumbles there
They feel
As they flee

Earth quake in Accra!
Earth quake in Accra!!
The air waves rave

Old, and young,
From far and wide
Relay the message, mega phoning it
As they scamper,
A few to fields
Some to churches
With last prayers,
And heavenly wishes
In their mouths

Earth quake in Accra!
Earth quake in Accra!!
They shout and text

Lo, the quake,
lo the rumbles
In their minds dwell
A craft from makers of mischief
A hoax it was!

Accra sleeps
Deep,
Indeed
In peace!






Tuesday, December 22, 2009

poem: SILENT CHRISTMAS

We drag our feet
Towards the pitch dark night
The eve of a
Silent Christmas

The chit-chat, and much ado
About ill Commander-in-Chief
And little flickers of light
From I pass my neighbor
The numero uno source of power
Are all subdued by fuel
The lack of it

Our will to whisper
Imprisoned
By certain salient
Fear
Of tomorrow, the New Year
Triggered by mass sack
Of colleagues here, and there

Silence is enforced
By gloomy thoughts
Of accumulating bills
Like the dreaded sword
Of the legendary Damocles

Christmas spirit,
A discerning being
Has sneaked out through
The backdoor
Remising his rights to
Despondence

We trod now
Grudgingly
With trepidation
Toward a very
Silent Christmas



Those who read this, also read:

Morose

An Ode to President Musa Yar' Adua

I pass my neighbour



poem: KEY TO HAPPINESS

Your promises
Broken or forgotten
Blame it not on the rain
Or the moon or the shine
For seasons will come
Again, and again
In cycles,
Never ending
Like the ever changing
Key to happiness

And if the key to your happiness
Lies in my hands
Gladly would I
Unlock the door
Or the key in your palm I'll lay

To move from uncertainty
To certainty, explore we must
My corner, your corner
All corners of the globe
All time of the day
Godly or ungodly the hour may be
This key we must find

Laced with sweet honey of mystery
And thrills of mischief
This ungodly hour
As delicious it sounds
Might be the key

Explore we shall
And start we will
My place, or yours or neutral will do
Week starts or week ends
This day or the morrow
This week or the next
Dusk or dawn
This key we'll seek

poem: RUNAWAY GROOM

She stood, still
Graceful,

Like a statue
Of the Virgin Mary

Immaculateness,
Bestowed upon her
By the flawlessness
Of her wedding gown

A drop of hot tear
Rolling down
Her delicate cheek
Belies the calmness
Her stillness suggests

The clock ticks

But he’s gone
With another
A runaway groom
Abandoning her
To multitude of expectant
Pairs of eyes
On her wedding day

Her legs wobbled
Perhaps unable to support anymore
The burden swelling up
In her broken heart

Ere comforting hands could
Reach her
Like a log
She slump



Those who read this, also read:


Heartless II

Dilemma of Love

Of Women




Thursday, December 3, 2009

poem: HUNTER HUNTED

I fiddled with emotion
True love I baptized,
Not with water, but saliva
Spat from
My prickly tongue


Time and time again,
I mocked love
Satisfying only my desire -
Lust, loot, and booty
With style
And swagger

Ah, what a player I was
A hunter with class
Gifted with the gab
With sly and con,
Preys, after preys,
I squashed and savour

Now I’m haunted
By loves I spurned
Faces of scorned ones
Parade my dreams
Leaving in their wake
Torments and regrets


Alas, the doors are shut
With locks, and bolts
And true love scarce
Like water in desert

Now I’m hunted
With vigour and vehemence
By predators with style
Ah, the chicken
Is home to roost



Those who read this also read



Of women

Heartless II

Learning Curve

Beyond Death




Monday, November 30, 2009

poem: THE ENDOWED

Ahoy! Men unable to resist
An unusual apparition
Striving to stray
Where Angels fear

Behold the endowed
With alluring hips, luscious lips
Ah! Such succulent breasts
With enchanted crests

Is she mortal?
Or a goddess
Adorned with heart, blood
Fears and tears?

Whilst men draw closer
Fear pushes her further
Disrupting the chase
Prolonging the hunt

Alas! As plot thickens
Time ticks
Not for one
But for all

Those who read this, also read:


Beautiful Guilt

Familiarity

A woman Scorned




poem: BATTLES OF THE HEART

Again, my heart is bruised
By the persistence of
A sharp mind
Prying through the depth
Of my mind
Unravelling decade old
Scars of sour love
Buried, deep in my
Iron cast mind
And sealed with lead

Now fate bid me
Tear down the
Berlin wall of my heart
That it may heal
And love may once again
Flow and flourish

Fate urges me
To keep step with faith
That all’s well,
Will end well

I ponder the offer
Should I again shirk?
Taking control of
My romantic destiny
Or accept the prodding of fate
Allowing my heart
Overrule my head?

I ponder...

poem: MY NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR

Fathom a nightingale, with
Colorful plumage, and
Beautiful melody,
Hopping up, down,
In a cage
Adorned with,
Roses, violets, and all

Envision the nightingale with
Banquet of soft grains
Rare fruits and nectar

Picture the cage
Encircled by
Legible suitors
And lustful birds

Lo the nightingale poking fun,
Rendering smiles,
Yet yielding not
But dashing hopes,
Breaking hearts

Behold Cynthia,
The girl next door
A solitary nightingale
A sweet Cinderella

Those who read this, also read:

The Endowed

Beautiful Guilt

Familiarity

A woman Scorned




poem: HEARTLESS III


Again, I wobble in the
In the potent current
Of sentiment
My heartless self
As ceaseless,
Unconditional love
Bombard me,
With sweetest of words
Highest of hopes
And sweetest of desire

How do I respond?
My heartless self
When conjugal aspirations
Of a love struck one
Trails me
Like a shadow of a sort

How do I give back
Even half the
Affection I receive
While submerged in
In mucky pool of
Prejudices and biases

How can I challenge
My ambition and vanity
To embraces love
So pure, so sweet
Unconditionally

poem: MALARIA

My head aches,
My blood boils
Chills and heat plague my body
I longed for food, and a drink
Alas, my belly is on strike
I tried to talk but lacked the will
Up, down, wanders my mind

Few days before,
I walked with my palms, and
Clapped with my feet
Now I lay still, and sad
Plasmodium x
Fills my blood
Act, and quick
I urge the quine

Two days later, I’m up but slow
Down the road, and up I trudge
To check an aunt, near and loved
Pains, and agony filled her eyes
Taata, her the baby, her joy,
Is gone
Lost to the scourge.


Those who read this, also read:

Fleeting Breath (Aka Dying Diane)

Beyond Death

I pass my neighbour

Fatal Fall





Monday, October 19, 2009

poem: Saints and Sinners

They seethe and fume
Of our despotism
Our tyranny,
And corruption

They flaunt
Wealth, power
Good governance,
Justice and fairness
At our faces

Yet, these two-faced crooks
Swell their treasuries
With funds looted
From our coffers

They enrich
Their museums
With artefacts
Stolen
From our
Hapless nations

But they are saints
We are sinners


Those who read this, also read:

Travails of Truth

An 'ode' to Yar' Adua

United Nations General Assembly

poem: NIGER DELTA AMNESTY

They streak
From the creeks
Their watery fortress
Young and old
Militants, they are
Of the Niger Delta
Armed to the teeth
Like Delta Force

Hazard they were
To the pipelines,
Terrors to the oil men
Shudders they sent
To the government
Jitters to the world

Hidden scars haunt
Victims, of their kidnap
Agony and sorrow
Hang in homes
Of folks
Whose kiths and kins
Were felled by
Bullets from their barrels

Marginalisation feeds
Their passion
Ransom filled their coffers
Stolen crude oil
Fuelled their greed

Now they throng
To lay weapons, they clutched
With vehemence, and vigour
To escape the creeks
Where some lived as lords,
Most as serfs

To embrace government
They vowed to repulse
Ahoy, they drop their guards
To give peace a chance!



Those who read this, also read:

In the Pipelines

Travails of Truth

An 'ode' to Yar' Adua




Friday, October 16, 2009

poem: GLOBAL WARMING

The buds shrink
Starved by the receding water table
The leaves don the colour
Of the scorched red earth
Subdued by the sun

My crops, my life
On a date with uncertain weather
Threatened
By the deadly advance of
Desertification
The handyman of
Global warming and
Climate change

A parched land, for wetland
And flood for droplets
Gone is the minor season
And the hazy Harmattan

Trees I have chopped
To feed my baby
And bush I burn
To enrich the soil
For fertilizers, and ‘cides are
Beyond my reach
And mechanise farming
For me, a myth

I burn the wood
For coal and fuel
As cooking gas and cooker
Are all for the rich

To warm the globe
Is not my ploy
To change the clime
I desire less

I live my life
With the choices I have
To save myself
Or save the world


Those who read this, also read:

Travails of Truth





poem: USAIN ‘LIGHTNING’ BOLT

Usain Lightning Bolt,
The fastest man on earth
A speeding legend
Faster than a cheetah
Ferrari or jet

Long before the
Silence of the whistle
Sprints him past the
Finishing line
Like a lightning
Trailed by a thunder

Usain Lightning Bolt,
True to his name
A worry to peers
To catch him if they could

Usain Bolt
A streak of lightning
World, Olympic, or local
Records tremble before him
And tumble
Beneath his swift feet
Medals adorn his wall

There goes the whistle!
There sprints the Bolt!
Usain Bolt
A streak of lightning
Catch him if you can!

Those who read this, also liked:

USAIN BOLT -2
Barack Obama, The One
The King of Pop, A Ballad
Men of God



poem: FAMILIARITY

The Agama lizard
Invited to
The living room
To feast on an infestation
Of ants, and mites
Does so, skirting around
Whilst wagging its tail
To the disdain
Of the housekeeper

A man granted
An inch
Grabs a mile
To the vexation
Of his benefactor

A child offered
A handshake
Reaches for the elbow
To the dismay
Of the senior

Likewise does Familiarity
The wayward child
Of Intimacy,
Begotten by Knowledge
Breeds the insolent son –
Contempt!



Those who read this, also read:

Beautiful Guilt

Heartless II

Dilemma of Love

Unlucky in Love

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

poem: A WOMAN SCORNED

So hell has no fury
Like a woman scorned.
'Cos she razes to ground
All along her path
Reducing edifices to
Ground Zeroes
Annihilating utterly
The soulless
And heartless man

Ah, no bigger myth
Have I heard
Nor greater fable
Have I read
Than this legend
Of woman scorned
And her fury
Bigger than hell

So I say
Spare me myth makers
Spare me legend writers
This incredible tales
Of your woman scorned!

Tell me tales of
That man scorned.
Make me fables
Of his raging hell
Write me books of
His extreme fury,
And less stale tales of
A woman scorned

In this age
Of equalities
Should a heart
Be less than
A heart
Or a scorn be less
Than
A scorn
For gender sake?



Those who read this, also read:

Of Women

Dilemma of Love

Heartless II





Sunday, September 27, 2009

poem: An Ode to President Musa Yar Adua of Nigeria

And the gods, and their fathers
In their mysterious ways
Deign it prudent
To bless us
Nigeria
Good people, great nation
With the government of
President Musa Yar Adua
Never ill at ease
Nor bereft of ideas
Who thumps up Iwu
And
Thumped down Ribadu

These powers that be
Bequeathed us,
Nigeria
Good people, great nation
Such great man
Musa Yar Adua
Of immense strength
And agility
Strong as a bull
Swift like a springbok
That he frequents hospital
And prayer homes

President Musa Yar Adua
Unparallel in vision
Superior to the eagles
He reverses, and re-reverses
Policies,
Past and present

Good people, great nation
Nigeria
Rich in oil,
Mineral, and people
A land of multi-million lions
Led or not by
By an unhurried sheep
Yar Adua
A man of steely apathy
To sectionalism
And tight affinity for
Professionalism
That he replaced the consolidation expert
With his home boy
A wielder of stick

Good people, great nation
Nigeria
Ran by Yar Adua
Who ran for cover
Ignoring the UN
To witness school
Open in the middle east
While schools in Nigeria
Extend their strike

Commander of the Armed Forces
Of Nigeria
Good people, great nation
Sir Musa Yar Adua
You I hail!



Those who read this, also read:

Barack Obama, The One

The King of Pop, A Ballad

Men of God

United Nations General Assembly