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?

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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?


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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!

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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!

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


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I pass my neighbour