War Machine

War Machine

Have you seen a war machine
For I have
It is clad in steel and darkly dyed,
Stub-nosed like an insect
It propels itself on ironed-legs
Squat like a house on concrete stilts
Making craters where it’s passed,
It’s altogether menacing
Not a sight for a faint heart
This war machine;
I saw it on TV !

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Addicere

Addicere

Dreams are a kind of steam
The high of fever
They melt your skin like cream
And torch your fingers,
Even as the mind balloons
To thoughts vividier than the
Boiling clouds over Hirosaki.

Dreams are like a trip, the shiver
From speedball – cocaine dissolved in heroin – mainlined,
Better, always, with a pinch of mescaline
For effects that’d persist.

Dreams are like chemicals
They alter your bloodstream and
Jolt the mind’s shaft into the timeless
Drift of the universe.

Dreams are a kind of pain that fondles
Desires the brain designs when the eyes sleep
They hook the heart in shackles, forever!

Caveat Actor

Caveat Actor

You do have rights, Madea
To life and fair hearing
but, my friend, be wise and
Sift your ‘ponent thoroughly,

For those rights as enforceable
Only apply to lesser peoples
Folks like you and me, and not
The constituted authorities.

Yes, yes, you have, too, freedom
Of opinion and expression
and should you ever over-expressed either
Or both, that wont be enough to clamp you with bolts,
For you’d have still, your freedom to move about.

But it will be better if you train your tongue to silence
and learn also, ah!, learn to be neutral
in the face of tyranny

That way, you won;t see for yourself
just how dark the con of man is.

They are intact and shall so remain:
Your right to one spouse and a family raise,
So long as you desist to raise a hand in protest
Where mothers barter their babies for slice bread!

You shall always do well if
you always remember:
In this land, the rule of law subsumes under
Personal, pardon me, national interest, as enshrined in
The UN Charter of Rulers’ Rights.

Windows

Windows

They stare blankly from afar
Up close, they are vacant still
Like sockets without their eyes,
Shutterless, the windows of lives, here;
For the land disperses listlessness, the kind
Of mocking lifelessness akin to strands of sooty cobwebs
Bridging live wires’ terminals: one red, one black
The thing that has made of hope – in this land –
The shadow of a mirage.

Forbidden Love

Forbidden Love

He meets her by the busy way
She meets him on the kerb
Where anonymous folks traffic
Two little people once entwined;
He acts casually
She talks offhandedly
They exchange what pleasantries they could
Careful with the boxed memories of mutual wound;
They are being adults
Two little, separated people once in love,
They are being civilised and,
Neither would rage, rave against the dying of light.

Streets and Homes

Streets and Homes

From her flaccid rubbery breasts
It suckled with hungered zest
The beggar woman’s baby
A wispy dried up twig clutched to her chest
Clasped to her ragged reedy frame.
The grandmotherly hawker
Bent under her tray
She brayed with a dying wail
Her paltry wares to the indifferent marketplace.

My mother’s scalp
Once peopled with a black forest
Of  proud stubborn tresses
Now bows, plaited into cornrows
Pigmented with silvern threads
From strain-stress.

Alone

I will lift myself
from the dregs of despair
Raise myself
from the rubble of neglect
I will crush the marrow of defeat
and vanquish distress
I will lift myself:

I have called and cried
And you have heard me,
Are these signs of life about me
is you answering?
For I ken not your voice distinct
in the silence keen,
Still will I lift myself – with or
without your help – from this
well of misery
Climb up the incline steep
Till I gain the zenith
And your face find
Unchanged, Love divine.

Lincoln Abe

Lincoln Abe

This country is to die for
I mean, you must be a patriot
And believe in the vision: One Nation!

Give no mind to the shenanigans
Who say our brand of democracy
Would never work…, who
Say we should Restructure;
They are delirious detractors and,
Confused in the head
We’ve the nicest intention
Our ideals are the best: One Nation!
This country is to die for.
Do not look at these frailties
( Our peoples are quite strong, resilient)
Forget these leaping wildfires of iconic killings,
The charnel of abbreviated dreams…
Rather ponder the works we’re doing:
Building gas pipes and railroad into Niger republic
And cattle colonies, founded on the graves of
Those interred in populous tombs:
Benue, Taraba, …, Sokoto,
Kastina?!
This land’s thriving murderous wombs.