Monday, April 28, 2008

oka poems

Movement of two

Two had traveled by each side of the other
As often as law of love old told
From far-deserts, and vastly-seas
With their need to kiss their lovers earth
In hungry poverty-and prejudice persecution,
Persecution, as well in richer gone
The ivory flight in the vulture suit,
The wings, flew above the mountain
Singings a welcome love song
In runs freely across the jet grassland,
With her heaves thick maned neck
She dances the rhythm of the jet’s song.
Pondering and parching the earth there and here,
And the earth clouded with a dark of dust
Rise in thunderous wing,
With no restraint to hail, ‘expatriate’
And she proudly soars out in rich air.
But, the jet that is as the same as ivory
Was bluntly call an immigrant
Whose has to pay taxes and like
The pedestrians she wreck the road-
As grasshoppers flies a mighty fires
In the harmattan burning grass
As old coal in earth crust,
To be trans-repatriated in penniless
And innocently destroyed
Like packs of matches box in Atlantic












The jet and ivory.

I have seen two in one
And were blind
With striped colours like zebra
Unique, as, no two are exactly alike
The black and white
Seem odd in worlds
With the creators breaths, on new born foal
In the beginning,
Who know the real colour?
If time warmed and cooled
Appearances is appealing
To the black and white as a zebra.
Which you are hewing curse and scorn
To each in lose laugh
And in gains hindered
For blood spilled,
Is not a deal, as friend,
Or hatred of enemies in cooled,
Because!
You are jet or ivory.
The sighs I has is not my breathe or passion?
But stream of red tears
Shedding from the eyes
Which the ivory and jet has
No more soul in their organ frame,
Or their hands and legs cut off.
Or brains schools lie, judge of no more sense?
Or is it the breast ceases of milk
Of affections and passions
After the man faeces, you have rejected
When you saw it could not be goat faeces
For the freedom of the state throne
Of injustice by Hitler to do impeach
When we went to the death field with our weapons,
Squatter on the grasses
And spoke through lighting and thunder.
You and I in frenzied cries of death –mark
Over the jet and ivory,
Still some stood.
The mosquitoes that struck harder on us
We get mild storm down on the decaying bodies
Lay dead of malarias that came and went.
We still smile, laugh and …
Can we live like the body of zebra?
And forget the colour of zebra













In the dancing moonlight


The children besiege a group in a hive formed
During the moonlight, with drum and flute from far
A woman I saw gazing at the cloud like in reverie
In a want of welcome
When she begins to speak, it was in stealthy voice
She said how the intruders had uprooted her root

She then look up briefly at the sky again, and says
“The chameleon “ of many colours, a butterfly-
Her eyes ball look into the ground;
Beautiful they are but uncontent
A vacillate, a flirt- with time
‘Yes, they contaminated us-with many disease
To start with- our cultures”
Like a revolving windmill she looked

We wait in look the tune rises up in mouth
She pointed to her breast two:
In my maiden-days, I tell you, children,
I used to celebrate pilgrimage,
In infant moon of naked breasts
Which the mouldie as the pin we dance,
Revealed to youth mind: called
On an elder our company in the arena,
Yes, the soldier-without his gun-
We know the consequence to be a woman-
That forbidden thing of the dream age
When at the threshold of womanhood
With cock to creep in and spread red on spotless cloth
Lied in the assault of legal bathed blood.

And you see you children were born by holy nature,
Without the works of miracle, to magic and sorceres,
Or the witch Doctor and water spirit
Because we have no wear of scabies on our buttock
And our being bridge has no suffer of accidents
On abortion and corruption, and the vengeance ghosts
For babies to cry for help in the bushes.


We dancing dance and danced in the arena
We healthy and liveliness to every tasks
Which a woman that has snuffed tobacco has.

And these assumed we a lion and horse hearts
With legs and arms with some singing bangles
Around the waist a bead laping our tiny skirts
That look on beauty, whose heads hair that
A beautiful bead- and the peacock feathers
Are grasses which line and bundle to hold
And render the curled hair like
Roasted chicken- feather
With the parts feaces in the garbage.

And so gisting and talking, then
“Darkness, “ The moon is departing
The woman silent, pause and becomes still,
The ghosts of place which women forbid
Echo the voice and in string chorus, she said,

To your huts o children!
The ghosts of our people come and go
In which yesterday remain today and
Tomorrow for long years to appear.












Do I belief on the things my people belief

On the papyrus of black man’s history
I am writing on the white man’s tongue,
I had thought with his heart.
The Sahara desert is then in flood
How would I not be deformed.
Inhibit to display in my borrowed robe,
I a peacock in leopard and Tiger skin.
Like a surgery patient for liquid,
Instead of Elephant feed being of taste time.
While on iron horse in truderian pride,
Instead of the animal pedestrians.
And on bricks scorching house
Instead of moulding cooling hut…
Yet I wondered
I am already deformed
By the way of their ways.
“My ancestral- “ are not bastards
They are real black and brown,
Africans!
All the way, our lands, seas and skies.

And our ancestral, remember them
Our ancestral are the mother earth
Are they imitators
Taking our earth birth,
And improved from us?
I too have to use theirs!
Next life is here, and there
I know it is,
I am being deformed
Also leaving, my people!
The ways of our fathers
We learn the ways of others,
We learn to polish not to improve.
Africa, Africa come
The ways of our tribe haunt me
And I cannot satisfy myself
I need it. Want in more depth
Our life i s here
In the Africa we know.


















Identity


I am a Cain, I live life like
After a brother’s blood stain,
Life pedestrians encountering
Some question answer to some questions.
How I claim black history,
With flesh fair, is it blacks?
To me, I am black and Brown by pride
No more than majesty split
King and Queen in throne
Of other colours reared,
The physical being a composite
Of my colour and spirit,
After the teeth of war-on mothers land
My name is white of the missionaries’ sins
Still absolute,
In vision-ing and mission-ing black heart.

For souvenir appears
As farmer cotton is largely here stealing,
The attention of the mind or you maintain still
I have no tongue
After assuding two hundred kingdom in one
Our countenance slowly, stealthy is on rails
The snail home bordering force
At teeth of war, leader and dealer
Becomes a notorious riot trade route.
Question on king and princes.
I know you are born to rule
Survival deep in the earth
And conceive of God in us,
But you are employed
To teach and we know
At the dancing arena
Your dancing steps ryhthme rhyme
To call by gone earth birth
Of no contribution, or identity
And forgotten
The invention of necessity
Stream sources a sure
And question as prejudice your worshipper.

















Handful food retired our land

A handful food retired our land
At banquet in honour of the tribe’s.
When the dishes was served there,
Apu, iyon and tuo all dishes together
Were palatable things to eat?

Approachingly we came to the last
One handful ball to the end
When one went off retired
And next asked to round it off,
And fools! Muttered to himself, and gone.







.The friend

The friend I have, love
Is a leper which
My welcome swept sweet,
With my hand shaking
As a native altitude.
Like a cloudless sky
And the genial air,
That my robe pleasant friend
Dreams that she dreamt I saw.

She’s like an ingrate fly
Who I only allow
Cross my head high
But intending to pitched tent
And build an elaborate house
On my head,
Fool! She or I
She appears.
Daybreak libation


In seeing the dawn go cracking
On to the orchard, forest and homestead,
Woke the day break kolanut pathway
Reveal palm oil as our norms- blooms.
The water and palm wine and ofo
Of pouring a libation on the earth
For thanksgiving prayer I mourned
‘Glory be to the name of creator of all things
In moderation the heaven and earth greeting us
The divinities and our ancestors
Your foods are here receive them,
Supreme being, Day break libation is here, and
Our forefathers, we pray to you that
Goodness and mercy continue to follow us.



The Butterflies

See them, full colourful of fine fabrics
Than the butterflies, of colourful clothes
And beautiful in their ridge uncontent
In an inhibition vacillate, I called a flirt,
They thought a pride maligned a peacock
Beyond the earth, and a philosophers!
Taking land were we are heart and soul,
And blood and warmth of flourishing laughter.
Cease we heard the cries and wailing
Of the caterpillar and bulldozer moving
Across the timbers and calibers unfathomable,
In the conspirator voices we muttered
In trust mutiny against the life-stream
That these ancient hills and ridges
There sail in a precipice valley a king
Of great imperfect wisdom and servant kinglets
That took them home to their throne,
In humble, or end like Cain after brothers slain
A wandering and parabulator be walking yet.
Of pride and triumph of the land
That tribe’s magic, medicine and
Rituals secrets, fought
They don’t know our tongue but …
And taught us the ways of their tribe’s.
The way the kings and orders the followers
To the butterflies and
We and our ways changed
They had married our princess and
Many children found the new faith,
Still we shoulder shrugging on solitary silent
To paths so they stayed and saying
The butterflies fabrics share tore or torn.






My visitor


A man visited me here,
And called me a barbarian
Man, with deep imperfect wisdom
Calling me savage, why?
My ruminating and acting life.
My meager cool shelters with…
With odium of tech. And little clothings.
He has no sense altitude
To reflect on himself
Awoke one morning
Reversed champion, my similar
Specific a bit northern parts.
Waken the arid land demand
The hatred leaves for our livestocks.
And the Fulani cattle men he lives
Without my endurance like an eagle
All his gentle man as good laundry
Would urged him to be some how half –nude
Than elaborate houses for my kinds.
In coming out of this if,
If your mirror would not lie
Looking and acting like I.
Than as you think you are.















Song of love

In the motherly earth I was
In the time of your absence
We are like the sky
Where the birds soars
Without a hindrance
The jet and ivory. The birds together
With the colour of rainbow birds
Of many clarion song of difference tongue
Our name remained our name .bird (s)!








Man and his destiny.

When I listen and keenly
On their magic media boxes
How some men are prospering;
Its an old not a new news:
Is it not a diligence and hardworking men
God gives all things to prosper?
As in the side of the prepared
And strongest team God is the match
But my people in foolishness fear,
Inglorious and dangereous of idea
That is strange be gentle and obedient
Instead of choosen between two sides
Of police force dices or coins choose
Allowed fish snaps of its weathered strand
In tail hold to be bribe while they arrest,
At gills, the love, justice and peace praise
Of their people in the marble grave mind
Than God love and wish in making man.
Black or white, some tall, some short
Some well, some ill the stars shows
The magi’s striveness and endurance
Fetch , gold ,silver and frankansia amanifestation.
















Chief priest a cheap priest

Listen to them,
Hear them to ear.
Of men with faith- I a little
Of hermatic hypothesis!

The chief priest now a cheap priest
Preaches to me
Against my ancestrals belief
Hear them clear, saying,
They are blood tasters.
I asked in replied
What is jihad and crusade
In hatchet and booklets
That war let set against us
We against our own against before.



The last night’s rain

Rain! Rain failing incessantly
On the earth in the night,
All in a line were relay to winning
A hallow place in a solid surface,
Like the Amason basin, the drip
Scooping a pore in the soil.


Cloud pale blue becoming metal
On what A mazon basin store
Falled the pore scoop and stood.
The muddy water like fast volcano- stand
And sleeped and sickly and died.
The insistent pours a misty and blind.
Of a great fast volcano and jumping
The tittrating that stops fall are dribbling.
On them we race race stream to abyss.

Self esteem


In what way is a challenge
They throw against my presence!
Who I am does’t matter to them!
Those kind of timidity…
Demure kills a man
If a man is in a market place,
In a social gathering,
Or in drinking place and its dance time.
Talk of an invitation and
Request turndown
Recognition and respected please choice,
But not to reject your self,
Forgetten not
That the diligence and
Hardwork God blessed,
Throw the pride of the past away
And borrow the present
Put the gentleness and
Low ebbing of slavery
As God’s law. God forbid!
And gentleness of foolish life
And curse to whom
As work and pray in God law:
Your work is your work-chop.
And like the prodigan son,
God shall accept the worthyson,
Africa.,America and Britain can build
But in your hands a building architecture
Not touching Architecture;
Man in image of Gog,
So God’s upon man a power
To your father Adam for bloomsy

And happy estate forever.



Which one ?

Evolution or Revolution where were you
When our culture was our beacon
Africa ! their culture will kill us.
While, the illusion and bequeath dissipation
Our roots remains our shield rootless
Were,only new reminders or old culture
African of honesty to work
Whence face of my races faces in remainer
That everyone has a native stocks
Where virtues plants and ripe divine oneness
African, their custom to kill us
What a clear vices to plant divine disunited
Overabundant from us for all to share
With trickingly imploring the berlin round table
A chorus that snaped our lands to slavery
Why would I stop writing on papyrus
Than I do dried my feather
How could my feather ink out
Like you made a correct brain
That all haven’t been here
Yes? They made no head
Or my concept of culture.Absent?
Have all been here, in us! Beacon
My root yet my shield.














The yester rains

Like a hard club
Beating ponderousl
y on the thatch roof,
Gbmn! Gbmn! Determined sheds of sheaves
Slit open in radio graphing lighting
Of the parallel sloping beam
On a prop roof.
I guess down it fell from the edge
Of the thatched –roof.
Drip! Drip! Struck of the parallel.
Like the jets flying faster and pool,
The yellow and green grasses and soakly,
Like beans overdue in water morgue,
She still in furious as quick silver,
Falling like water falls forming
A cloitess, cloudiness look our eyes.
We stood, silently starely trying to be humble.
I watched with quivering eyes at far
Ruminately at the sloping rain falls,
Over our land and
Of the flood that fluxed the life-streams,
Of the waters to fetch for taxes paying,
Of the men who talked o shearing the lands.
Of the princes and princess servant kinglets
Of the inflamed war against our selves
And of the honour lost to share and to shame.

Perhaps the contradiction stirs us
Some says the rain drough
The drought of pool some says
Streaming thro` the land to stream of river
The motion of our life-stream
That would never end and never be
A Noah’s flood of selfness
And one’s
Reined its ceaseless flow
And move the earth
Our land’s treasure washing by the flood.
And of the dirty and filty,Remain drowed.


]
















ETHO


We are equally blind
Still are, even now
Light and darkness oneness
Can never comprehend
Darkness from black,
Mores ideas
But of an angel?
Or it is kindly mind?
Yes of course,
The head for gods
The prisoners Aztcc,
Abraham his Isaac
Ephtham her daughter
What of Ismail in Islam Quaran
Of religion ceremony
And before the changed
Of Jesus and rams
And ours cock’s best
What about that?

We are right!
We are wrong!
You and I
Were human errors?
Intending to suit coat of many colours
And thought in troubles ways
Against our minds
We all-Remain
Deep imperfect wisdom.










POWER BESTOWED ON US.

When I see Africa
I see the black men,
Children and next to come generation,
And the labour and the sweat
In her eyes brow still waiting suffering
After the four- enlightened century of
The teeth of war. You are powerful,
your shoulder carry earth of responsibilies,
what falls on it if I shall carry.
You shall make the world
As the earth on conditions
Of self esteem and reliances
And we for the generation of our children
Race and the monuments- in mind

Africans a day in beautiful world
Conceived by many nationalists:
Marcus Garvey, Osagyefo, shabbazz,Blyden
And Mandela to mention few in minds:
Vision free and
Redeemed proudly as paradise.















WORLD WAR STORY



In the breaking of the world war two
In which I went as I was told
To defend the whole world peace
For these dead not to fight, went?
Yes! In the green grass and battle
With chest laying and shouting, shooting
Not a toy or water spilling the more
We are pourling and falling in wood,
On earth to decay and swallow
Of the white and black-brown in oneness
We stand to each in fear and fight
We fight we stand each one a panic friend,
Many of us came home, some they home-ward,
We survived and must ever more live.


I DO NOT KNOW OUR STAND


Ido not know the stands
Of African people
It is true,
You are long bastardized
With your heritage and pride,
Stand for your rights as against
The question coming…
Thus I go.
Are you all liars?
Who deceive and call us fools?
If not then!
Why the chicken cheating?
Why the goats getting?
Why the sheep shipping?
Why the cattle catching?
And the huge money moving?
Instead of cowries or coins
With holes in the middle
For nairas, dollars, and pounds
Jeeps and lands in trade barter
Of the medicines in cure.
From free sorts of things collected
From the bush and mixed ale beer
Nature became natural venture?
Why do you turn.
In money and properties venture
Instead for help and cure
That your ancestor stands
If you don’t stand for something,
You’ll fall for anything!!
…Declare a stand
Africa.





TWO THOUSAND FIESTAS.


Standing by the days and nights
Waiting for the visiting feast
And here, come, the seven days
Ogidi carnival to crack our dawn


With four legs trek on silken flanks
Masquered. On legs haunts
Of rectangle shapes with silken flanks
And walk


In the quite ray quarter sleep
On warm and breezy.
The tree swayed in gentle manner
To the soften caress of the breeze,
And adourness soul on our homestead,
And our smilling land , that fateful night
As the rumbling drum comes stronger,
The singing women chaunt an ululation
In to welcome greet our mother:
Our ogidi festival.
What a maiden hip tottering
To
The wild ecstasy?
Under what cover?
What a true norms

We youth, of our town in riverside
By undernealth atlantic ocean
Or sea and coasts-
Built for painful citadel?
Away!
In truth to swollon ‘em
Troser banks and intriped-men
Emptied of its folks,
In wonted fires
Of no crowd’s pleasing
In anxious of this pious night
And, new with old
Warm precints of the cheerful day.


Putting our burden and troubles
Behind to the melodies,
Playing; more endeared call
Oh! Ancestor I exclaimed!
And the spirit ditties to parley,
With a banquet of well-oiled dishes
And we get drunk, of joy
Now alone in our besotted state,
The princes all but one
Who know that there are wolves outside
But look to their prey the impregnable.
They erupt in explosion
And crow’d on helter- skelter
Disparts discontinue
Makes looks behind the reeds
On the abandoned “lay “
For the yuletide of sunrise and sunset.
Flux, and the earth itself ignored suffers


As the night grow the burning
That charms, those drums and
The silken flanks
Blazing legend haunts of rectangle,
Became an arranging of the location of seats
The moon and stars that on it
The water, food and land covers
The foot steps of last night carnival-
Erased,demolish and destroy it!


The smoke and dew that covers
The dawn glowing of our mysteries God,
Opening our eyes to sun lowing
At the skies,
West rest towers hands of scripts,
The journey of vivid imagination
Scatter them that.might obstinate
Have
And shatter the heart their thinker emptied
And will not stir, no, I even
With masks of deities and deities and mortals
In the temple and arena of dancing
A lovely time for quiet sure to jest
Who will see the kingdom? The devil!









COME HOME!

I have a beautiful maiden like a day
She is black and brown
The colour of red and green looks,
Long and slim an aisle and adjoin
On her head a carriage a beautiful grasses
And ilari lining becomes body of green.


We have gone to the elder parley
Where our ancestral wine into winning
As bars between the choosers and want
And so I am to the champion lover
Home comely she came in moon infant corn
On the kneeler suffer, to God pray.
In time answered of bathed blood child
A moon walked on the cloud of nine.
I am a leper, viper, ugly and venomous
Wears on her account, of clumsy dream.


She handed me the child and I gone,
With voiceness of loveness at her back
Cries days, “Dear desert not me love”
Come home dear the Lucifer there
And satan here is better than best,
A poor man pride is his worth estate
That my plead and wooing is punch
On bottom of Elephant or rock.


The Gold-dream current she thought,
She dense crowd two there and come
Her revelation,as air cannot contain,
Her smooths ebony of apple for pineapple
The love voice colour of the assault
Of prodigan son remembrance and repentance
She said ;let me go home where love, peace-
Of purest living!
And afar I saw and said:
Come home love
Where many love awaiting you.

















REMEMBER!


Remember without the other man
You and your heritage is no complete creation
The colour outside of colour,
Or no cream on earth, no fake
To subjugate and change than their.
You should recognize, appreciates rejoices
And practices your principle mind
Your children,
The stars rise on the sky is Christ
In the appear and reveal
His birth to the magi,
You are the same pedigree relatives
Of Adam’s ribs in Eden,
Forgetten,
Your God favour and diligence
And hardwork throwed away,
The labour sweat from your eye brow,
That mind of intelligence
And forget to serve ever?


















TRAVELLED TO WHERE?


Me of God’s blessing gain
Where is that thoughts and determination
To construct Ethiopia and Egypt and
Even the western industries and houses,
I am crying come and renovate
The cracking on the walls
Instead of relocating your heritage,
To earn nothing but hap’orth on help
And total peonage, neocolonialism and
Suffer-age-aids, from man
Made of God of same potentials
Is a man mind not his sword
To survival the war?
In the world where the side
Of the sharpest knife cuts
God grace, Goodness and mercy
Towards judgement.
Like the children of confidence
Than the friendly football matches,
To eliminate, reduce and rejoice
Over dominate to owns detriments,
As there is no friendly matchs
Of combats fighting ,
But lion to prey
Iron and blood battle of
Continent against continent.
Where is that knowledge and power?
Of God’s blessing earn to put star in sky
The old civilazation is now history
And story is not a waste but guild
Where are called a barbarian and salvage
A man without intelligence
African!
Stand up and fight
Your right God
Padagrim of inevitable change in element
And African remained African
I will always be an African
If death made war in my home stead
The grasses shall raise to fight
Till that generation wasted
A dew on earth to plant grow crops
Your products shall be demand
On the last day of judgement
When the creator of all things:
Because I refused to bleach
From black (man’s) colour
To the colour of still borns.









THE LOST STREAM

Standing at the stream side
‘Ajogwu, my son’-he called
Ask if awoke from reverie
Pointing at the bank standing stream;
Slow and quietly lib he called, said
Son from this pale dark stream
We and our livestock water from
It cure so called our valley of life;
Look at the staky movement
And to the throb of the stream
Flowing on making incessant gurgling sound
Like the maidenly hips on motherly moon dance
And counting the projecting rocks feeling
At peace: so we were lovely and lissome
I could not utter anything
A child but listen and
Looking deeply about the stream mystery
The content his father was rightly mouths.
Turned and again spoke
Earnestly and passionately agony
It seemed the stream it flowing
Like a bridge set in a cloud of wastes.
Brought a home our sewing piping.
Where our mothers fought with their neighbour
With irons and plastics of the death-tools
Which impatiently live stocks in million march
To grease in the peroxides acid as water
Which tasteless became a taste and coloured
Which the sweet gurgling sound ceases of
Lubricant the rates and sold slavery
My stream-life, life-stream of my land,
For the lost-stream.






DANCING TO OUR RHYTHEM

In my listen-ear I hear the drums
Come over, from far the fluttering air
Dancing, in harmony of melodies more distinct
From the holy man’s house in glasses
Coming the rhythem a crescendo and razzmatazz
Of the people, sing over the mighty music
There is rhythem of the heavy gaily gong
A fan fare of flutes from dry wood sound
Ekwe the long-handle drum beat
Like I never hear the slow and resonant shekere
A calabash on shirt in signing gourg
An utlute, a cand or melodies bass
Buzzing bamboo as trays is xylophone
Mixing the animals skin stolen in shrine
In beats of dancing to our rhythms
Its dances of my rythems, rhythem of my fathers.


AFRICAN – AMERICAN

During the hell days of slave trades
When our fore fathers were sold
By crook or hook
By the wit-want kings
And merchants
African against themselves,
Because of money
They worked in scorching sun
And downpour vapour days
We smelled rods of iron slavery
And walk on chain of iron,
In our mouth
Of which the language of animal loudly-silent
Speared in hore of death
And when the freedom done, we are blind
Of the road
We remembered
In nostagical feeling of our land
Africa my African, My ancestral land
Of black and Brown of Green and Red
Calling themselves African – American
O shame; Africans
African my Ancestral,
African our land African.














I CAN SEE CLEARLY

I can see clearly now
When the scan in my skins
So printed of the hands
Of good heart men,
Who came beggar later chooser?

I can see the scans clearly
Boldly written in their language
And says,
In which to us the bad heart
We are to eat the dust. Yes;
We have heard, to followed your talk
Eating of dust is not a curse

Your troops were many days dislodge
And fired our brother
Exterminated, massacred, main and plundered
Our land
In eyes to eyes
To alienation and deprivation

My sisters were capture,
Innocent and guilty saw selling market
And are use like donkey
Instead we remain as a tree
We ran through many bushed in hunger,
Days and month in the rain
Years in the ecosystem of many
And later realized our ancestral
Brass heart
In your sordid slum
We ran not to die.






SILENT

In speed I had rode back home
Like a prey
Been chased by hynal,
As Kangaroos had kids on her udder
Against run and been capture
Like rat, dead of cat’
I had reached refuge cave
In the bush…
Instead I should die
Through the child cry
I had rather kill the child
Fro save;
And in silence
They sail through
When I remain a grave in cave



I HEAR

I hear some men came
To other seaside
On a sea floating thing
With many things,
When the air play a peaceful
Love on leaves
Because the atmosphere was cool and
Flow like water into the sea
In flowing
Of the honey and milk,
And end sources
Like they have gone
Do in the west undies

Today they have come,
To us said,
Excerpts words,
From our king in ‘I hear’
In curious interest of making their land
Rich and our destroyed in mould.
With their sugar coated lips of twos,
The stillborn
The bastards of slavery kinglets

When climbing begger on a ladder
He gave us a book of treats
For treaty.
(After eyes of white in red
Saw the brothers and sisters fired)
Our hand
In hand of magisterials power
As the hand of alien doing
Of what I hear
Said they had done in East
You call it a pieces of peace treats
In your tabular raza,
Meaning of blunt
Like somber,
A puppet we are eating
The whole pretence of deadly gift
And our royal houses, in tussle
In ken, they are chameleon,
A candour king of rambow,
Looking down on us

A message of slavery on kinglet

I heard news from far away
Of a man that came to Ugheli agima
With many unofficial soldiers, of thugs.
Before I had heard
He told them to have a covenant
(Of clapping together on Jews holy book)
Many shrine and their cultural heritage
Were set on fire… when the leader
A lightening, with his minority,
(The repentant of doom;
That has no knowledge of wisdom.
It was then I knew these men
Were exceptional and really fools
They were, if not a man;
Human of the which brain is not green but milk
Like you commanded,
And you go,
Invade, loole and burn
A duty servant, by a kinglet.












IN PRETEXT

Long time ago, in medieval
I read
As a historian today, and
In our oral tradition
Help and aptly
I acknowledge,
Is a documentary of truth
On how this our kingdom,
Today called ukpabi;
A monarchia, an obi ukpablan
Visited by an appointed men
Of the majestical powers,
As a slavery-kinglet of a free-borns
He had come at ukpabi, on business…
In pretence,
With eloquent oratorical
That they are not termites,
A yellowish ants with head
Like white small things
To eat the whole nor
But to barter with us
In the dark race of coat animal?
Before the years draws
Four and half
In stum salt to sour of our flesh
By the sands of red coat men,
Who to guard the coastlines,
And battles,
In galore
You got a consulate
In tiny island of ours unknown,
And you said,
“Because we are barbarians
To corrects the mistakes of past
A statement
To end slave trading
And start of their sleeping brain
They wake of slave in their lands”
ONE AND TWO ARE NO FRIEND

Like drips of dripping vapour
From mouths of needles in hospitals
Is sipping of the medicine in vain
To cure the heals of Biological ecosystem
At much time, and many emissary
I sent to afore warn you;
My people, this people are evil
They are no friends
Very deadly and dangerous
And inflacting and encroaching
And
Have I not soar an epistle onwing
Of dove
To you about this people
How vulture had taken chicken
Of all Indians hen
By way of their treaty
Like coming from nowhere
Of the butterfly
A versitale are by ones and twos,
Until the tree they got of treats,
Because the tree of their tents
And possession of all bushes taken.
I heard,
My father’s visitor told my father.













WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE

When you tried to compare the term
Development, which is modernization
Modernization is never created destroyed
It implies changed in form, a dynamic
Why? And what is difference in characteristic,
Of modern life which traditional life lacks?

You said it is highly differenced and
Specifical system of ruling structure.
In the three tiers of organization?
Our king was the head and it was monarchical,
Choosen is by election end of oracle
By priest on divine selection in royal house

You changed it is the degree of intergration
In system of government organization
Is the Alafin not the king, Oyomesi law maker
And Ogbonis the check and balancer?

You still stressed on prevalence and rational
Secular procedure.
In minding of the decision – makers,
As if you are right in saying
Is Alafun not spiritual head
Which ascribed to him the name
Igba keji orisa; A god of kingdom
Entrusted by will of divinity

Are you not mistaken, if you say,
A man who said;
“You are a Tiv; always remember
You are a Tiv
That mushroom generation
Must lean on”
You have no wide spread and effective sense
On popular identification as,
His past, present and future
And state of identity
Some are born great, some achieve greatness
And some have greatness thrust upon them
Said an ancient poet, and we are born
In ascription of political posts
Which you condemned and do selective election
To allocates roles of political classes
Of polls dooms

By oracle is the judiciary and technique
End law
In our society and it never lies,
But priest that lies is been human
In your judiciary and technique system
Of law
That is draconian, bribing, blind and wicked.

Our leader calls for priest first and waits,
For elder forum end by oracle and people,
In political and Administration,
Which you and your selection members
Proclaimed are generality
What is the different between
Traditional and modernization.

















THE WORDS OF TRUTH

When the white men first came
They told us we are blind, why?
We believe on our ancestral ways
That shrines is devil workshops in worship
That believer are to burn in furnace
When we heard these,
Were afraid and confused
Because we have seen a magic stick
Bound like thunder and kills as Amadioha,
In a count of crabs walks
In awesome fear
We embrace the white human beings…
In cowardice and traitor
We carts away
Our resources of live stocks and
Cowries as thanks giving
Blindly for emissaries and Rome enjoyment
As wit – wants mammals.
(The white) (Here)
A recent visitor
Had constituted a meanfuly life
A great menace of religious clashes
To be a cheerful giver on
Titche, bazzar, launching and harvest reaping
Carting goats, Fowls, cows and money
Against amputation of our ancestral belief
Are the words of truth about them.











FALSE

Our kinglet slavery has done us wrong
They had call
On white things
To rule over us,
Thank God, they refused.
By God, they said,
We are of sunshine states,
Like coal kindled in furnace
Like the time of mechazzach and brothers
In the hand of Babylon king.
And by prejudicial
You said we are sick of air
Where pestilential and cough
With the chill hand of death
Coming ones and twos,
To our life
Which is your life as egg?
And fragile

Yesterday present was war, in our home
Even outside
We are not wit – want tribe
On you – heavy tax paying

Just this afternoon
Your brother had come
To build a house near yours
And another
Has his emissary
With our native tribes king
They demands our hands in marriage
Of book treaties of cession

I know you are already afraid
And at head glashed death
If they come around
You are gone and dead in red
(We are no fair weather
And you are to trade)
Without your action you are a Bankrupt.
I know your house steps,
That runs like train
If you can run
There is hope of free and will
To escape complications of your brothers
Furious interests
Have you not been lucky
In my expense,
Built house, in land and sea,
With your paper pf pieces – peace
With our some wit – want king
Which made us victim of treachery






SEEN A STRANGE HUMAN BEING

My grand – father used to tell us stories
In the moon light tale, those days,
When the advents of oral magic boxes is far
Which now turn our oral – history – story
Into programmes.
Yes’
Oral tradition of jolly good old days.

He nodded like chameleon in pondering
As if we reaping the story
From lines of the cloud.

They came like thieves in the night, I mean;
The white men came like a butterfly’
“These one of those stories
I hate telling
It takes my heart thick like night
As it was a great menace in our land”.

We thought we exists single on earth
But the advert of a strange being
Like Abino, “A still born;”
We are confused and afraid.
Because we weight them
As a sub – human beings,
Animal name is strange
And unstrange to them
For our live stocks has four legs
In exceptions of fowls
They too walk in two legs
Like us and without wings
But why;
On the news we are hearing
Which is true we are prey
By their many soldiers,
Setting our villages on fire…
In our disagreement to the pieces of peaces
Treaty
There are really no human
In been so wicked.


















THE SAVIOUR

Long; long; time ago
It is then I do not know
But the history has scanned
Picture that;
When the entire human races
Were in rat race style
A single race of the jet raise
And punctured a basket of food for all
(In soften soul of nature
And God law of love
We welcome them to eat in starvation)
As two is more than one
The invites ceased the owners spoons
In protests as complained were attacked
And our leaders,
Leading away as hostages here
(They) at centre
When slaves become a master;
We know to arrogance of power
And selfishness than to their
Owner of land
They polish blanked tools
And structures of freedom
Single – lization, equality and
Fraternity with fixation
In the house of raw power
To be deviled the system
At will for their food and pleasure…










FORE–FATHERS

A man called himself a lightening
A burning fire emissary he claimed;
With oratorical glibness as always
Philosophers in ways of browsing
The poor people brain in the street
A man from a nature culture
Call other to a duty of sacrileges
In invading the hall
Where the people marks kept
He did not go there, his order did,
If the things are living being;
Let them rise in fight. But
In replied of cultural stalwart
“We have been to the glass house
And acknowledge
Christ did not kill his killer”.
To them, the die hard cross – follower
This blasphemes.
Let to avade and loot marks
In the still on seals
To burn, the people’s heritage
Into ashes
Which dust in air
Fluttering east, west, south and west
And things will
No longer as usual
As world is not spoil
But the sun in years
To call of fore fathers sins.









A DAY’S JOURNEY

I was lying, in my cozy bed with my woman
I heard a maiden wailing from far and
I looked out through the warming window
I saw my lady, another of my concubine crying
I was shocked, when I heard. It is death
I said Death; who died, I gain, her father,
I realized I had lost an illegal in-law and
I dashed my foot to cool air in condolence
I was traditionally to wail, like a trapped lion
I wailed like in translation and overtaken---
I can stop, I suppose, am not the killer
I said; I heard them, to get ready for journey
I walk from crack of day to land of death and
I came back at roast of the evening
I have wasted a day, after a long day journey.

I never knew my journey is a starting for
I have promised my main maiden a visit
I shouted! What a wonderful chance as
I walked beside my shadow, because,
I was walking in silent night in solitary soul
I heard from afar the hit of some noise,
I listened like in way of crab and snail,
I drew back my ears into my brain for sure
I really thought I was deceiving by wind but
I really heard, I supposed, is alluable to the deaf
I recalled the call as noise but music, when
I heard in the talking drum loud of which
I listen and ken the gurgling gong
I still kept my foot covering the morning mist, and when
I got there, I was warmly welcome
I greeted in retaliation to their hospitality
I was showered, then their showed me a sit in peace
I am sitting in no really peace because
I had started hearing a talk of top secret
I listen in awesome from the women’s talk,
I knew a great sacrililege has been committed,
I cannot wait to see it by myself, so,
I greeted and left the promised doom land.


I heard in the deploy stories later, so
I was dumb folded of some men as fireman
I knew that he had already burnt down the
I and I inspiration of cultural heritage
I had pity on them and when
I heard the terrible thing men did then
I said, “let the head that scattered bees be stung”,
I heard they had a covenant with them
I had never heard such a sacrilege before
I was confused, as why forcing door opened.
I hate to narrate it because it was new for
I hearing of many of many ladies in sacred place of our ancestors
I knew it is sin against we Africa
I was confused as weather they were ladies
I and others used to struggle in to gain road
I heard about them destroying our culture
I could not believed as men of faithful because
I knew they were exceptional and really thoughtless.
I knew they were not human with head as
I have never seen any human being as fool they.

















CAT-CALLS

For more than millions times
When I takes askance at myself
Like the eyes bat its lid and
Pictures it’s askew inert of the hardship
Or hardship on handshake.

As long is the time as days
More to know and help
Let scan the ancient story
If you are daunting or you forgot.

You know not that I was
The citadel of world breaking
The foundation of the stories of suffering
I took in cracking the earth
Of raven of the deep dark
You called me the heart raven
The men of deep wisdom
Have you heard of the the deep unwisdom men
That’s the saint packages satan
Into a cage on gyre
And the mouth is teared,
The lagerly deaths that visited me
In approach drove carcases of the eagles
On running of Golgotha-trek of death
And those that suffered death on cold,
Some in Greenfield to grass of fade field
In which lied them
In barebodied for flies in a field

From the cock clarion call
Of dawn cracking
Till the scorching noisome noon
When evening sky suffused with crimson
We were there suffering
Till the auspicious sun austered
For the black cloud of the sky
In time and space that is dead.

There is too much suffering for I
In the world on sufferance
What a suffer-ance on sovereign.
Or suffering till date
From the apostle of debt peonage apostates,
Militating against I in temple
And taverns like scotch
As smoothy irreversible growth
And world indigenes
Get on the gravey
The train gravitale to myself indigents
That I was left with a pieces peace of flag
As a mottle appearse,
While he hallabalo, freedom freedone!! Freegone!!!
Or what fraudean slip lip?
“there are on the march again
waiting for me
(
the brain drainer)
in the DV lotto that has come or…
…awake for sovereignty rightly.


















A TRICK


Everyday they call loudly
Fire! Fire! And everybody clods
Like harrow in a helter- skelter
Than hen chiken in murderous pondering
And fatigueless she stumbles and slumbs
Ends asleeps that their brain child,
The jihadists and crusaders horses riding
Too far for war of ignorance,
Their head ache in their killing-
In the name of mid-east cultures
Unconcerned they laughs us dying
In a trick trap they have created





THE ROSE AND THE BEE

Hear today of tomorrow, my words
That may be called histories
My witness against you
I want you to know the unknown and unsay
As you have brain
Prepared to hear




THE RECORD
Before the oldest written record
The cock use to inform us
Of the breaking dawn
When east stretched the sun
Shadowed by the move peaks of a sky
Its shadows and written objects circle
The twelve of today in perfect peak
Living in lasting peace and happiness
When the plowmen will be going home
and the chiken roasting
in huge moon at east
the sun in west of refrain
from the sighting yellow
each other broadly
the day of one knowledge
that the moon will counts to ten
there we have a full moon of cultivating
harvest and our festival of love











COMMUNISM
my ancestor’s at the beginging were traderds
they walked and walked and walked
a joyous merchant men of adventure are,
my fathers, mothers all adventuring,
trudging to a distant lands
good on heads, monies on pulses-
they walk in fear of no man

they stopped and stayed in stranger and no strange homes;
they married from time to time;
they moved their goods like snails and their shells-
as they move as a great Saharan wind
along the solitary and bushing singing paths
they move, in peace, they were welcome.
Not even the wives conplaing of the relatives
not even the influence of the household men
not even the power of any sentiment,
they were in early and then as one folk
when brothers and sister are not refered as
Uncles, cousins, nephew… of foreign names
That sings some song of a miser
They were in oneness house, walk before the capitalism
Could put epistles and thunderclaps in their doors
















A NEW LANGUAGE
They say I do not know anything
Because they have a scientific (insurance exercise)
Of a long term perspective
Do you know not?
I have a traditional (isusu thrift contribution)
Which frequently or of short time duration in exercise

Remember the ancient adage that
Nothing can be worse for the sick person
Than for he or she to believe in the incurability of the sickness;

Their Hemitic hypothesis could not restrain my believe
in their claimed superiority
if my head men are ignorance
to held the fish by the tail for their market
and their spread open in air our traditional market

do not be carried away

We know stroke is a diabolical attack from evil spirit
Which figures disfigured the victim.
Our medicene men smothered herbs and plants roots
Mixed with pepper and camwood
To covered the victims to survive,
But they said is stress caused
By their burden and wages of neocolonism
And to worsen the situation they produced chalk
Which after a brief illness they die!

If we fall from an aisle like heaven tree
And the victim did not die in a flash
We takes them to our traditional medicine men
Where medication were given for healing fractions
And various bone ailments
We have no cases of amputation
Which your orthopedic hospitals has turned many beggars

Yes, let me tell you in a plain fact
I must be honest with myself, because
If you should ask
I do not know
What has happened to most of our primary science and technology.

















FACTS
I read from yester-years book
I would beg you no to take me to an archaic one
But like an empty sack
You need to take urge
In putting some properties in and raised
The point of the view as facts
Because I know, is my history.












INCONSISTENCY
I have a nice health but
I have no wealth
I have a great wealth and
I abandoned my entire head dream

I have spanned many years
I have opened all annoyance
I have a moral behaviour
I have no brain (belief)
I have the facts.

All because
I have no sense in my tiny brain
That all that is black and brown is beautiful
That, I yearned to tone and bleach
My sense in a mad-malady
To become a snowy-white, the snowy-white
Which at its bloom, in a flash burst?
Like a gush of a liquid flush to the air


















THEN AND NOW

Before the coming of my friend
Lands are till when fertilied, consequently,
Virgin farmlands are frawed, if not
The farmlands is to be destroyed by locust and insects
Also it will be dry by sun
And the farmer is not innocent
They shall be sever in affair with the farm
Because a farmland is not good for shovel
To do so is to mean ill health and death to the plant and the fruits.

Today, I have gotten a nice brain
Which I know is how to washed with the paroxide acid?
As farmlands that is till virgin is deflowered
In an emotional struggle
Virgin farmlands are till
To an attendant odd
Like the bulged heaps of destruction
And scattering leads
To an end of the land, for earth,
Increase in locust fight and burning bushes.

II
A fertilized land is good in farming season
Thus, is a hard land is need of water.
Before the clearing of a bushed land
Because we have a large number of family size
Required to the work and task to take
As today, work is the future hope
Because the Supreme Being and his lieutenants
Is the author and finishing of a house?
Those are in both one of agreement and direction
A house is the joy of our home
Because is love that bond us
Without the counts of our trees branches
That works in harmonious
To live in green and strong in life,
I bowed to the gray hairs, from my cradle
Because I know, is my ways of life and law
To have the ancestors and divinities in awesome and wonder
To avoid any wound against my house hold of love

III
In the hut made of thatched grass
That is where I lived in my clan
I with the children of my mother
Are farmer that lived together
With others of my distance relation
In a unit of nucleus
We rise in oneness of broomstick
Like seas in running rails
We defense in need needed of our lifetime.

We dare not look at the elders’ eyes
Because we knows the lands laws
This made us to praise our dead and deity
Thus, we should not be smelt evil on our household,
Why should we says the elders lies
And brings disgraces to our self
By standing naked in the market squares

IV
In the medieval of my people setting
The king and chiefs and the people
Are in a set of law and regulations
Which they obeyed
Not like the law of few letter chain on the people
Which says, do not steal on a key of stolen boxes.

If I steal or commit crime
I know I have disobeyed the law
Which is the chain of our living
In agreement of moral value,
Because,
When we are planted in this earth,
We are indwelling of the God sense

V
Am I not just a natural being
Who fall off my mother bridges
I am supposed to fall
Like an orange ball of its tree again
From my mother back
She would not allow me to loose my spouse
Because, I am the legislature and judiciary
To the Executive arms
In the society against my taboos.
IV
I am a taboo myself
Because I am afraid of a reprisal
From my ancestor’s beliefs
In the time of food eating,
I am to worship my deity
Like a priest of ancestorial and my deity
Should I scarified a dirt items in the shrine
Of my fathers fathers belief
With an offered of red cloth, in robe
Instead of white them
I am in doom, my people
If I should like Moses of the Jews
Who was asked to strike rock once
Wouldn’t I be punished for disobeying
As Moses walked on holy land bare footed
And the Ashanti king agreed not to walk
On earth bear footed
May be you want him to die?


Why then you asked me to fetch water with gourd
Against my ancestors belief, you asked
My new married wife to enter my house
In her first step to my threshold with a right foot,
Expect I am not a taboo,
If my ancestors belief is to eat,. My household totem,
Is a taboo, my wife to eat and walk in sun and night
My heavy wife can’t walk in sun and night
But when, she learn her knowledge from the horizon land law
We bury our dead in burial rites of the men from the horison
And carries their father and mother corpse
With their legs in back by undertakers in sun.


Our Rustic Charm
A clarions sung of the hero has shun down
On darkness heroes of the last dust season,
Where the broods, know the sleeping ply’s
Which brings an Eulogy of toil days that born to deploys
Where the peasants journeyed to the ancestral rail

There are in the old of a quarter moon seasons
That bring a dry season in a cropper cloud pleasures
The dusty and chill weather were of the noon’s suns
Which allowed the hunting, and the moonlight dance songs
To float in a movement of peace and innocent blues.

In ceaseless walk is the wing song bowed to a new day
As many men is a ceaseless walk in an old road dance
Like the soldier ants in tail of ceaseless burnt,
Smoking: A clarions song birds in the bush-side way
The voices chanting-in eave drops of near and far.

In jocund life we have the fertile land of our homestead
Which in fields and ceaseless work in the rain season
And under quarter of life in harvesting: delicious
Because I am George, the riper of the neck bends
Not like that of criminal, which is on joyous pleasant

When the full moon is around the corner, we men
Of ceaseless work and idleness mind in a drank head of blessed
And to snuff in administrated as stuff wheeze for us to sneeze
The maiden and the gents are in a harmonious glamour’s
Of an animus peasant chant jerky in one tales of moon.


As there is no fixed time for ripe girl in our land
When the moon sight her eyes at her two breast
We have the names of the moons where counted
As of our land there was no fixed name of moons in doing
But we see to the rain and sun seasons of crops

Let me tell you, the people of my nativity, that
In the light of truth, we are not savage nor barbaric
Just because of our gerontocracy and muse of equality in vicar
Why must we need to be you, we are peculiar people
Who in the begging galvanized from toddler and adolescent

We are the cradle of the dawn, were the revolution comes through
Let not blindness accredited to the moon because we are moon
If you Ask, I will tell you why we are at the back wanting
Some harmony of past exploration in our land honey and milk
And the subjugation that has perpetrated on our people now and long.

And the dept peonage is militating against us greatly
That orderly and irreversible growth reverse our people
Because of the union-flag of commonwealth in our freedom
In our domain of beautiful as nonsense home of chain
Where the rain of blood vapour pouring on our wealth

There is ceaseless distress of tears of blood
Apart’s marks on floor. Where ugly bed bugs subtre fuge
For blood to drailing in my land trickle-in-and-basket
That is out of white Elephants in minds of a lull song
As brain drain sydrome and men of strong souls gone

Walk down, down the graveyard and see
There many black saint life from cradles
They have die in a shortened ridges bed in a gapping laps
Where the flesh bids them in a fare well end of
Avarious lied with their bone disjointed in hell to rise again

Many seasons has turn and many follows
I do not know what you want and waiting
Judgement will not come, because you are saint
Your shrines are forgotten, but in time you in our heart
As you are in grave in many of many of our, come back!


That is the lesson to be really aware, o death!
A futilied history of the supreme reign being
In your mind places oh my motherland of beauty
When the dear and inevitable death come
Converged my life to the sun in the west
I shall remember, you o my mother land


LOTTERY

Keep calm! Listen in respectful from far
I can ken the walking trick
Just as yester-years
Look them, watch, very strange
A man who dashed foot against the same hard objects
Is he a wit-man
Or is a very stupid and foolish?


If our forefathers were today
And sees what we doing to ourselves in no duress
They would have answered my questions
Because they witness the slavery days.


Always at silence and culling of friendly is the term of their trickery at night
In the night is the game of getting others properties
Yes! It has no differences
Long time ago is a covert done
Today we witness it in a overt way
Our land that is wealth is cultivates and reaps
We are giving o’er penny in returns

What goes through the pipeline
Like snake, obs
An ugly and venoums creature
Siphoning in triangle form to their home with ungeuninely kindly feelings.
These people are invasion… the invaders
Who are succeed actors in, and process
This moulder, the invader are moulded
In a belt of their intrinsic fool
They find explanations to satisfy that I cannot serve in Army
And in dictatorial manner I follow them into the duming pits

This people are false recipients
They are of an illusion acting

…… Take though of horse my invaders
I am looking like a born to control?
If I am taken to the stream
I would rather be dead than to survive
Because I have only one supreme being
Before the coming of this unwanted friend
My name is a pure African
The century has turned
Our eyes that was cloistered
Of your scripts and beads
I have now an eyes as that of eagle
The decree and doctrines
You lead our homestead to destruction of a bad bush
In a slavery
You heap on my heritage
Like the hunch back man the commonwealth gyre of winner
Where I am a participants and spectators
Like a mauling
All my tatters and sweat fruits
Falling everywhere with many… suffering

Let me tell you my people

We’re going on self slavery
Of payroll a purse swolling like
The rice in water for her returns
Than a diminishing return of salt in

Liquid
Hear my call
On the fastest –growing criminal rolls
Which the market world slaves of yester crops
And today’s lottery imploring.

LET US STOP PAINTING THINGS

From where I sat down,
I want you to see witness,
The rising sun
From where I sat down
The rising sun
From where I sat down
You will see the rising sun
Goes down the west rest
As broads barricaded in a returning match
I am the heritage of mankind
The beginning of the world hood
Which is cherished in every field


You know I have given
And you have seen
The night is coming to morning
I am the act of haimany
And a desire of civilize
In a mean of survival of no surfer-val


Though yesterday has gone with the wind
Just as today shall be like dead tomorrow
I am an intellectual sub-humane
Indeed not a rational being

Why are sufficient in justification keeping
Its because your dream of social and
Commerce living
And the messiachac high-arched roots

The night that is long shall bring forth light
In four enlightened centuries of agreement
On selfish and egoistic
And toil for pump and power

Badagry Coast

It may not be this coast
May be another one far away
In any part of Africa
Sit still and listen to the
Cries of agony, regret and sorrow
Of Africans sons and daughters
Dragged into waiting vessels
To sail into land far yonder


Joseph

Blessed you o mother land
For the mutiny in your holy book
Of history which unfolded
On how once a lad that was born
And a dreamer
With heart like flint and un speech

Announced, through his mind of God mind
That: The wheat of corn he was
A king revealed on throne over his siblings in a vision-dream
Than san the parents and all brothers
Obsequeue on state of lightest
This announcement triggered a thick red anger of blood
And fate played fair on his faith
When he was at the field on the fathers emissary
To a pilgrimages in searching of his herl brother
In a distance land to the field telescoped
With the scorching sun light
That is diamond glittering pricking
Their heads and flocks
Under the cloud
They said to themself

(Here comes the king of dream king
In the twelve tribe of our homestead)
They conspired and said he must be sold
He was fathomed in the abys and
Like the Judas his Christ
They young lad dreamer sailed to Egypt
(A land of good hope)
Where he was barred in limb of good safety
Because of his mater’s wife lipstick
He was coasted as a rapist, which
Drove him to the ever lasting limbo
Where he made watch and pray his motto
And his hope in faith also drove him
Through the pharaohs tow erroed servant
In the prison
Here again the king of dreamer in his
Way surprised the two of their
Dreams
Which the revelation of restoring the
Servant in time came to pass
And the beheading of the other was real
Selfishness and oneness is human race

The favoured servant was enjoying and forget
Then the dreamers promised
But the hope rise with sun in a day
That was as beautiful as gazelle
Which anteloped into the dreamers fate
As a grace in pharaohs dream
Which was the most worldly wonder to him
And all the attendants seers
On how cow like rakes, swallowed the
Portiage like earth
And the millet of thin like an ant
Swallowed the fat elephant wheat
Thus related the pharaohs in the place
That was the remembrance of the dreamer lad by the old prisoner servant
He was in order of pharaohs released
And he became oracle over the
Kingdom


As in ten years of a blessed shower of rain
Brought about a bountiful fruit seed
Followed by drought over the land in
Then of years
This was the interpretation of pharaohs
Dream by the young lad
Who was asked to instead to manage
The dreams hope and lost forecast,

The pyramids of how to rule was draw
African civilization vision of mobilization
Was long born
When the king of dream and his tribe men
In trickery, swolling over land in
The north
Because we accommodated them
They said we should be their servant
After delivering them from hunger and
Starvation, they still complained
Because we do not what them to dethroned us
We asked them to be in their quarter
As we gives to every world our treasure
They said we crucified them, but
In a fair justice, we know
African is good in keeping the mankind
And his welfare
As Christ would bear us witness
During the Herod’s time that
The white peroxide are lie that we
Are inhuman
That we have no offer and no
History in their blood taste time


Let the people tradition be for them

The world people say they knows
That the sense is common, like sand
Of the earth, every where in the world
I go and asked. How common
Is there in a scarce sense to know
The men from the horizon customs and
Taste is no superior
And like eh debris, we discards our customs
Like the cloths, which not all fabrics
In natural is good for the sun
Let the peoples tradition be for them
I said
If your tradition is the cause of conflict
My mother soup is edible than yours
I stand to defend my ego and integrity
The ways our leaders and dealer
Is buying and selling our antiquates
Is hurting my soul
Tomorrow is till pregnant
Wait and see
Expect the messiah coming is in veil.


Experience
Everything unfolded to more knowledge
The life I live is unfolding
I found in more under heaven
The new things unknown
As house building unfolds
The knowledge I gained
That the children begotten
The history is not dead and forgotten
In a long chide
You can read

Here, its use from the paw
Bring out the book
A short life we live
And turn a fade one
Like a dead man of no epitaph
Power is a strong as foundation of a house
And as a debris in it falling providence
The life had enough and time
Is short and long
Nothing is permanent expect change

But the power, today do not know
How much power I got
When she was never born
Do not believe in perfection
As the life, live know new
Nothing stale and hold long
Like my teacher, teaches of God kingdom
Because you have it today
Do not be arrogance in ignorance
The first shall be the last and
The last shall be the first
Holy book of Jew said that. It will.



PILGRIMS
At the adventures of our Crack down
Pilgrims was visiting the god’s places
Before the night touched allies sun
That our ancestral, reigned, turned
A process of travels in saint
To utilizers a place and properties
Upon the collective experience- of story
Embodied in that journey

Births in the world, this city of David
The Jew’s land
Like home for al in
The truding of pilgrims
Who say it is dogs journey
Pilgrims life is far fair
When magi’s trek
Through the cruel wealthier
Giving their gold, silver and frankincense
Like the glittering of a beggar-king
Three times as good, goods Gets
As wants as the deserves

Who said that’s absolute piffle and piffling?
If the temple of God’s now God temple?
The chimes of amusement arcade
Where the ardour, the pious mourn
For every believer in at least
Of life span
If you could remember
Like the historian of an origin,
gods piffling home
gods of will or men fear !
Go to profaning the gods!


(Why is the hermitic hypothesis)
If you appreciating and accepting
Anything of the when from the horizon
And call and labeled ours of
The liturgical

Who said it is pigs life?
Do go pilgrimage or piggery-mage

It makes sense in a pigs ear
To our tourist sight
…our pilgrimage acclaim unclench
For them to kings our hills and forests
In swayed
We celebrate the end of our pilgrimage s




THE ROTTEN OF BANANA
Banana’s fruit rotten in our farm,
Bearing coloured cloth and softly
They claimed is reaping
Proofs for the chameleon of men
Talk from the work head in the eyes
Of the third earth men
There is no disagreement from the view
The banana ha spoiled in a farm of
Talking civilization and change
Let the gray head low on earth,
The seafoods in the sea bottom rest
Even the standing tree bough shedding
The leaves
Only the lion can walk along the wilderness
Come away, come and confront me
In the rotten of the Banana in our farm
Our homestead is no more standing
The caterpillars and Bulldozers, the
Timbre and caliber of ours land

Has surveyor and builders cut down
By the leaders and dealer
Of each to decadness for me.

O come and console and comfort me
From East, West, South and come to me
With the handkerchief for me because
Our banana’s fruit rotten in the farm
The laughing sun is as frawing heathen
The moon lit that is lovely and
Lissome some whole
Man illumination of her to us all is
Dulling evening
The night playing and dancing for the cloud day
Is no dark and night,
The night sparkling start in gold
Covered
Our motherly night dance draw fails
New night for our ways and ideals
In clottes clothes
IS the terracotta and Akataka masks
In barter trade for a white elephant
The Ife Odioupus in the hermitic hypothesis
Burning in the market stead covered
Sa surveyors and builders, leaders-dealers
Made no more tree standing in our stead
How, where and when to carve another
With civilization the Banana’s fruit
Rotten in our farm

MAMA AFRICAN
O mama African,
Your children lost their land and heritage
In a white man’s deserter
O mama African
Do not sleep
In the suffering of our land
Save us o save us
From this travels

The salves visas, is given, we going
And we welcome yesterday with us

It is hope on poverty free and of
The cold mild weather
Where our flesh bloom in
Prejudice and cruelty
The Gold dream richer states
That turned a day born child
And the nakedness away from the
Scorching sun that is hell

The senseless son and dull out daughter
And the unpatriotic, cowards and dirt
Dealer of our land
Who I feel on my tiny head are the
Early to stream
Turned the water to mud
Muddled, they brewed
Chaos, poverty… and war

This senseless men who are ignorance
That long teeth man need enough lip
Fled million money and mansion in
The distance land
From war and chaos
To live in peace

The host massive gain of everything
And our senseless wisdom lost men
To shame,
Slaved remained in honour on the
Gyre
And our land is rotten
O mama African
Come for our help

CAT-CALL
For more than millions time
I took askance at my self
Like the eyes bats its lid
I picture it in askew inert
In the face of this hardship
Hand’s ship on handshake
Bearing witness and the scan
Through the history if you are
Daunting or forgotten
The landmark is there
We are the beginning of the world
There is no disagreement from
Ours and your in time of reign
We did not engineered slavery
You let us pocketed in a cage
On gyre, we are dotted in our mouth
And in hunger
We largely visited death
In approach of droving car cases
To the vultures on
Running Golgotha trek of death
We suffered death on cold
Even the green filed grass buried
Many bare boded men for the flies

From the cock clarion call
Till the scorching noisome noon
When evening sky was suffused
With crimson
We are fry
Like leaves off the trees in the
Auspicious sun austere
Let the black cloud of the sky
In time and space neglected
Only the fit survive

Like moon and sun on sky,
We suffering in a circle sufferance
Or a suffer-rance on sovereign
We suffering till now.

If the apostle of debt peonage apostates
Do not militants against in the temple
And taverns like scotch
The smoothy irreversible growth
And the world inhabitant in grave
The train gravitate to myself indigents
Because I was left with a pieces of flag
As a mottle apperabe,
While they hallabalo
Freedom! Freedom!! Free gone
Or did I heard it clearly
It a fraduean slip of lips
If not why are they
On the march of brain drain
Through the visa lotion
…awake for sovereignty rightly.



A TRICK TRAP
Everybody they call loudly
Fire! Fire! And everybody clouds
Like harrow in a helter-skelter
Like the hen chicken in a murderous pondering
In fatigueless stumbles and slumbs
And end is put to their brainchild,
Now that jihadist and crusaders horse
Riding too far or war on ignorance
We shall inherit headache
In the killing by the name
Of this mid-east culture and custom
To unconcerned drum beats
They sing and laugh us
In their trick of playing death


EXTRINSIC INHERITANCE

Sometimes ago, we use to sun money
Before the stead of the Hen, we buy
We drop on one end of the corner
The bargain of our life, we barted
The antandant, we have not there
When fear of unsaved is far, just
Before the coming of this visitor, the
Vasillate of a course
On course of cursed in a new life
We are destroyed
By their sinful bond of Lucifer
Who is like a chameleon faces on our feet
We match on unnoticed
And it was in our flesh
Like shadow of a man wear
In some amusement and some pity





NOISE WAKES OF THE DAWN
We are laying dead
Waiting for the day break
Though, the
Dawns lips of the day always greets our ear
We rise up to the early call
Of the microphone sing
On thunderous shout of grenadiers
Our sleep eyes resting soul have been
Chased blood and water into our system
By this man of ignorance and distance Gods

Our nervours feeling caused by the call
That turned my reasons in questions
Of how our ancestors, in communal
Order before the coming of this men
Of stranger and distance Gods

They shout in top of voices that slap ears silly
As dam still thinking of the obtuse line
On the ways this people worships
In a pandemonial manner they are crazy
Giving their heart away to foreign Gods
Like an iron horse they walk, pondering
Finding its own centre of judgment in hell
To reduce our house stead for an aline

I do not know what has happened to my people
Who, was created like that man by God

Now go clean a temple
Destroyed the mosque
Demolished the shrine

We are fighting our selves for who
And against who
Are we the sact, of an ill gotten?

Why don’t we mend the net,
When the fight is forget
We are scattered in pieces
But peace is long
Let us flip through our ancestors path
To a communal order, as I am yet
To know the mind, because
The face is not the index of heart

THE ROSE AND THE BEE
Listen to me with your swollen ear
And absorb my today words, for
Tomorrow my words shall be history
Which is my witness against you


Listen to me with your open ear
And take in my words known and unsaid
Consider rightly as you have a king sits
Prepare to swallow and wallow of this
Matter
As you do not love brutish beats
Makr my word, I am a mortal man

O come hear my people
To the Rose and the beautiful bee tales

There’s bloush sweet smelling savour of rose
In this blissful days of gentle sits
In content smile as quite hearing the Bee
Humming in gyration at the bloosmed rose

Tell gently the cherub of heaven goodness
The majestically magicals of hand wand
Showed the Rose the wonders of a bee blessing

O the theme, a theme-made theme,
A complete of book sub-topics
Sub-topics of “no rose no torns”
As the theme in trunk
With spirit that is standing for the bee hives
Hives that stands like a gathered atoms
Like a walk of exchange, giving their
Taking hives built
With a mirror of mocking glare
The odd ropes as tie to sweat like feases
Covers with a suede to suit
As they do in the arid land


They were like a cleaver Eagle, going
With feline eyes they scan all our land
Exposed their resources to the air

And clicked our ogogoro as an illicit drink
Because they bring champagne and dry gin
Of their science
A turned of brain
The moment of its taking or drinking
We pick with our hand some ill stick of
Confusion
Which sounds is grenadier
Thunderous sound, that fall soul lips to kiss
The earth
They offered hands, are blissful
Of assault giving to the rose
A powerful malodorous stench of rotten fish
They offered legs, are market sold
Of white giant Elephant
In tern tredded the rose into rotten leaves
They offered their bodies, to the rose
In a close rage
The pricks of the and rain weathered
Their creative spices
In the coastal barracaccons
For their honey hives

The bee and rose encounter
Is not a tale fairly one
The folklore by which our journey lapsed
In the desert and
In the three-angle walk of curse-course
Of a centuries lost
In a waiting agony of sickness, we
And in the wildness and they
Throwed them off the board for fish
For die-t


Our offering are of many purposes
Varies variable in identifiable of luxury
Sweets
Which turned an impotent into a gladiator
I am not that man forced to suffered
In the field of labour towns


Why I am going on slavery myself
He offered a hand of lottery wining
Another magic power of beautiful
Nonsense
That made the appetites young preys
Known the roses love to brutish beasts
They led them to the furnace
The stream sip of sweetness
To dryness of an obtuse groove
And the stinging insects they
Have come to defored the decaying skin
Into a shallow pole mole ulcer

We have tasted the honey
Do we still need the sting and
The sips of the bees, which
Turns fresh flesh into rotten made

LUSTY DESIRE
There are tells of much tales of what
I hate about my people

When the umbilical cords get cut
And the issued falled of many moons
Subjected to a woman is sex
My mother in her lusty desire chorus
Why not
The issue of male child

Cut to the story
And let the tales be that
She is a goat delivered and
She gets the umbilical cords cut
Reported a feminine livestock
She was accordingly, grown in lust
She cannot grumble
In the seed of female goats


II
Let me leave her in hoping around
I with my body to the village square
Where the hives of elders gathered
Holding talks
It is my village rustic rule
For a man that is no a man enough
To play silence in old men talks

As the contribution throws and catches
Like missiles on mother earth
In the Second World War


I saw a man who know our forefather
Law and customs
In crowd he erected in a full measure
Who, unceremoniously, asked to sit down
On a standing of one little blind
Of incestuous group
… The sick clever cat of whom is
Belly full of cankerworm
Extolled in a passionate agreement
to be the congress leader

So we care so much with mental
Mendicants, we are
On our tried bed
Sleep heads and heads face each other
Ready to take PINCY correct

Shall we mute unquestioningly
As if our action is bias
Like the graveyard
We silent, snail and sail out
To this men hermitic hypothesis

IV
The fear of no pure heart
We trembling in an old life
They, married to the culture,
As time of FESTAC and EYO fiesta
Throws its colour over
Our lands and skies
The marriage bid belief vanishes
As oasis when their purse swollen
They dinne and win
Like the clowns smiling at the kings
Parley

They are like a coloure of rainbow
They have robe suits of every
Time and space in getting rich
They said in a welcome voice
“Our culture is our pride beacon”

Are you listen to them
They are hedonists master showmanship
Of “foreign good bad, foreign aids good”
Even there ghost dread my motherly home
With her neigbours of foolish flesh of snow
Heaping heavy loads on our scale of
Suffering in hundreds and billons
With their rule of demo-crazy
Which claimed equality in the house
Where ninety two and more
Is equal to one vote.

There is no disagreement from the men
Of flesh snow
As they layed-embargos on any MAN
Who failed to borrowed the rule of the
Alien
Because they want to rule the world
If not, why do they not live a barrel land
From sipping their honey and milk
In exchange of borrowing peonage






Do you said or hear of
Barrel or Barred
When I did not want them to dictate for me
They said I must go
They heap an embargo
But they never cut the barrel
They can’t when I lost in her gain