POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 6 EPISODE 11 "SO"

MAY BE – poem of the month

Sometimes we fail

And atimes we derail

From trying to know who we are

And how to best fit

Or get across life's pit.

Our actions and inactions

Pull from within

To question who we truely are

And why we have been dancing

To the silence of the world.

May be we shouldn't have been human.

Our heads keep reeling

Ransacking the core of our being

While we pour out the trashes in the bin,

Sift the good from the bad

Live to be happy or sad.

Maybe I should have been a woman.

Maybe I should have been

Like my friend who lived there

While I am still here

Living in disdain and fear.

I could have done what he did

Achieve his feat and plant my seeds

Destroy the thorns and weeds

That have made a companion of me.

Maybe I should have worked more

Do what everyone has been doing

Be smart enough to break a store

Leave behind morality for immoral

And blinded my thought to this path that I thread

Maybe I should have been quiet

To the follies dumped by my door

And the brutalities that lies ashore

While I still strive to find a meaning

To what best I can become.

Maybe i should have tasted the noodles of lies

And deceitfully cremated the limbs of truth

Pretend to be like just everyone else

While I silently fade from within

And feed on chunks of sin.

Maybe I should have been dead

Than being alive

To cherish what living is.

Maybe I should have resigned my faith

Instead of helplessly holding on

While I become a stranger to myself.

Maybe

Maybe

And maybe if this never crossed my mind

These words would never have taken form

Maybe I was right

For drinking of this norm

And bathing hopefully in this storm

Maybe it shouldn't have been maybe

But to move on that I tried after all

Maybe the sun doth cries

When night takes his place

And the stars takes over

And lightens up the troubled night.

Maybe in my wrong

I was right after all.

Ayinla Muyideen Adeleke

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THROUGH THE BACK DOOR -(worthy of mention)

... for Mansir, whose identity was mistaken...

They will let you out

Through a dark corner,

After putting you in spaces

You do not habit,

Spaces you would never habit.

They will let you out

Mansir;

Into a virtual space far from home.

They will let you out

Into a world of questions

And like an equation

The world will ask you D-y?

It's a stupid world created by a genius called god.

The dumb population wielding smartphones

Will ask why you painted your nails,

Why you wore Barbies' clothes,

Yet come with aa factory fitted penis.

They will profer exorcism,

From the spirits,

The bad spirits that inhabit you.

They want to rid you of spirits aversed to conformist ideas,

Spirits that cause you to crave a walk off the tappered edge of the flat earth;

Yes, your earth is flat.

They will let you out

Mansir,

Into a world without pencils to line your eyes;

They don't want you to see ghosts.

They will let you out

Into darkness,

Into a rigid world of roles and rules,

A world where dogs have more rights than men,

Where god has made it all and there is no room for creativity.

They will let you out

Mansir;

And no one will appologise.

They will let you out

Set you forth before dawn,

When the day is neither black nor white;

Perhaps maybe when the skies are grey.

They will lead you through a corridor in the courts,

After the judge has found in you no flaw.

They's walk you through the blue door,

Disappointed that they cannot sate the mob's thirst for blood anymore.

They will let you out

Mansir,

They will;

But only through the back door.

SOONEST

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MAKE UP YOUR MIND PEOPLE!

The Antelopes and the Goats voted for continuity
But the Tigers, Cheaters and Camels wanted change
Change has not fostered unity
Which isn't in any way strange

When sharks begin to marginalize other fish
Is it time to seperate the waters?
To give them the spoon and keep the dish
Or let sons live without daughters?

The Moon slowly turns red
The Sun covers her head
Our Houses are not equipped
Our Scales have been tipped
But while our Waters rage
The Rock leaves the stage

Does any animal really rape its young?
Do two males sing each other a mating song?
Do birds eat while starving their nests?
Our Elephant continues to fail all tests

The winds of change remain still
Yet we look hopefully at the hill
Watching the animals tango
Hoping the fish don't go
So what do we know?
So, So and So

Hmmmm

ERHIO

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THE FRUIT NOT FORBIDDEN

Scarlet Woman!

Robed in seduction.
Flesh distinctively carved, 

Voluptuous and juicy; 

Calling out for the taste of the pudding,

Honeycomb and the fruit not forbidden.

Who has made the sweetness of a fruit forbidden

When each bite is filled with delight?

Why rein the potency of passion

When the flesh must awake to touch and sight?

I taste of the pudding, honeycomb

And the fruit not forbidden,

And my eyes were opened. Bloodshot.

Soul aflame with the burning fire of sin,
Lust tingling the flesh now charred into servitude

With painful red sores sprouting with a justifying glee,

I wear a garment of discomfort

Acquired from the embrace of passion.

"I have eaten of the sour grape

Now my teeth is set on the edge."

Would I taste of the pudding,

Honeycomb and the fruit not forbidden again?

Dishonesty may fill the buds of my tongue,

Truth anchor on my flesh plagued with pain and sores

Waiting to be cleansed, liberated and cured.

Adeoye ADETOBA.  

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In This Labyrinth

Another journey begins

To rediscover

What was not lost but buried

Buried and doomed or saved

By the kernel itself

Where only beauty and light forever will be

In this labyrinth

How beautiful death is

For him who goes forth

Never to return

Death the gift of birth

Birth the gift of death

One the transient opposite of the other

In this labyrinth

Sharing ignorance

In comfortable deception

Uncomfortable wisdom of unknowns

Knowledge

The know

And ledge

Of growth

And retrogression

In this labyrinth

In this labyrinth

The theatre for all

Where the elements are the stage hands

To these creatures

Tying and untying knots

Where heaven or hell is hinged  

 As we race into time

Into the unknown

Known destiny foretold

Ifeanyi Okwosha       November 2015 

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SO I MUST DANCE

In the menace division 
You bring meaning to vision
You are selfless and faithful 
You give me the beat
So I must dance

You feel the hurt
But never allows the cut
Like a cord, you stuck to me
So I cannot let go of me
You give me the beat
So I must dance

You are greatly gifted in talent and hope
That not the many bumpy fate
Can deter your hope
So you forced mine to grow in yours
You give me the beat 
So I must dance

Chris 'N' John

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SOLDIER ON 

So you choose to taste
Of the wine that made men cry
Should you be given
Overflowing measured pint
Soldier on! Soldier on! 

Surely with filled hearts
Of teeming bubbling gusto
Strangers lurk to nib
Of your courage, in the bud
Soldier on! Soldier on! 

Swiftly flying bullets and
Open air grenade earthquakes
Slyly plague a slumber
Of dreams, feverish nightmares
Soldier on! Soldier on! 

Same, the dawn you wake to
Of the Legion many fall,
Slain in a cold reddish blur,
Of shrapnel in Nyanya and Baga
Soldier on! Soldier on! 

Sing odes to friends unsung
Of wars unwanted, yet had
So, it begins!
Oh, it begins! 

IFEANYI MBAH

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30 MINUTES OR MORE

These signs are not her wonders

These leaves are not his present

They want lasers and swords

Questioning intentions

Testing love

Love of change

Love of self

Love at loss

Fighting to no end

In anger

There is

Love of friends

Love of siblings

Love of love

Love for today

Love for tomorrow

Thirty minutes and more

Abiola Bonuola

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HOMECOMING

With hands trembling slightly

She ends the call

So long ago

Goodbyes were said

And now to welcome

Anxiety gnawed at her insides

Trimming excitement

Into sweaty trepidation

What if?

Kemibon.

////////////////////////////////////////////

SO…MANY SOS!

Is this me, solemnly preparing for the moment, excited nervousness becomes me

I am sonorously serenading the audience, I watch you, watch me, secretly, silently

Soaking in the admiration, unabashedly forgetting old lessons, lessons? I laugh

For I am way past caring, my fall is somatic, automatic, so melodramatic

Is this you? Reigning sovereign over my heart, you the victor and I

Finding my solace in your loving? embrace, holding on… softly I sigh

Oh No! this can’t be me, somberly, watching you leave, wanting to plead, knowing I won’t

Sobbing my heart out, drinking the sodium of my despair, disbelief…disgrace

As you turn away, with an unsoftened, inscrutable look on your face

Walking away, I have fallen prey to a misogynist and

Now… this is me! so sorry and filled with dread for what is mine to come I know

A broken heart for a souvenir and the inescapable “But I told you… … so”

Marilyn Maduka   

A RECAP OF LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 6 EPISODE 10 "BURN" BY THE QUEEN OF RHYMES ERHIO OBODO

ERHIO QUEEN OF RHYMES

It’s a typical Thursday evening, traffic jams made movement a nightmare yet Wordsmiths gradually gathered at "Orangeland" to experience Season six Episode ten BURNING!

Chisom struck the first match with his poem ‘This thing of ours’ a poem that talks about perseverance and showcased just how much his writing had evolved. 

Emeka struck the next match with his poem ‘Martin’ a passionate poem that threw more light on Martin Luther King and his relationship with Harry Bellafonte. 

The fire blazed when Chris (a female if you must know) emerged with ‘Burning through to beauty’ written in a lovely cadence,  a beautiful poem of self conquest and victory. 

Ifeanyi O. then got the fire blazing even more with his poem 'Á new word’, a cryptic description of the pitiable things that can only happen in this country. 

Muyideen struck yet another match with his poem ‘No be me’ which spoke about the morbid ills in our society and the sordid activity of men. 

Then came Erhio with her blazing poem ‘Hurricane inane’ a poem that questioned the ignorance and foolish cowardice of Nigerians, this poem is worthy of note. 

Soonest the Dean increased the flames with his poem ‘Fireman’s Lament’ which centered on Security issues, the craziness of Lagos and the long awaited end of the world. 

Now the next fire blazer was Joy, a first time reader, her poem ‘Í prefer madness’ is about one's freedom of expression and was deservedly crowned the Poem of the Month! 

Doris was able to add an ember with her poem ‘Life on wheels’ a poem about patience and retrospection. 

Ilupeju added more sparks with his poem Í burn’ which was almost like a sequel to his last poem. It spoke  about corruption in high places. 

Ifeanyi M. then gave us a poem titled ‘Dark waters’ a vivid picture of crude oil and the future, this poem is also worthy of note and rounded up the "burning" session.

With new found vigor and the heat of the session running through their blood streams, Wordsmiths left to prepare for November 2015 SOoooooooooo!

We Burn!!!

Loudthotz Poetry Open Reading Season 6 Episode 11 "SO"

Loudthotz Poetry Open Reading Season 6 Episode 11: This is the gathering of the most interesting poets in NIgeria who read their poems at this event that holds every second Thursday of every month. To read at the event send a work to loudthotzgmail.com

POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 6 EPISODE 10 BURNING!

JOY CHIME WROTE THE POEM OF THE MONTH

I PREFER MADNESS – POEM OF THE MONTH
.
"You no dey shame?," she asked.
"I prefer madness," I replied, with a half-smile.
Attractive magical madness
That calls out to you like a siren's song
Enchanting
Convincing you to let go
To swim out onto its hot and tormenting shores
Glorious unrelenting madness
Unapologetic in its expression
Demanding release
Like a caged bird
Like a nympho's desire
And in this,
there is no shame
only satisfaction
ripe and
free and
complete and
filling,
like ice-cream from Coldstone.
.

JOY CHIME

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HURRICANE INANE - –(NOTE WORTHY)

Consumed by flames of ignorance
Coconuts receive awards for their brains
Rats play the tune for the pipers to dance
While our young voices scream in vain

Consumed by flames of foolishness
We build rails but acquire no trains
Drowning in rivers of hopelessness
We place baskets in the rain

Is it fear? Caution? Or just fate?
Someone please explain
For when dirt is heaped on our plates
We sing and complain in refrains

Consumed by flames of rage
Our deeds are recorded with pain
Humanity stumbles into a new age
With a world laden with Cains

Consumed by flames of blind faith
We count material riches as gains
With muddled up feelings of love and hate
We burn again and again and again

What a strain!

ERHIO
October 2015

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DARK WATERS –(NOTE WORTHY TOO)

Death drifted stealthily, below the waters
Rearing its head now and then.
Minions in every globule seep through the earth
Smothering all life in a suffocating embrace.
This dark gold that is our poison.

Twas by our greed that death came to us.
We awakened the dragon in the belly of the earth.
We bit his tail, but he spewed not fire
Even worse this murky, black water.
We let it run wild

It cloaked the sea from the light of the Sun
It drowned the fishes and crashed the birds
Into leaves and veins it crept, lurking
Dealing in its wake a final death blow
To prey and predator alike, sparing none

Yet we built for it a monument
A high tower as chimney
There we dedicated a bonfire
That burned to no end a sinister red flame
Looming over us like the Eye of Sauron

Vapour punctured earth's shield till it frayed.
Metamorphosing into drops, formed a deluge
That drenched us in a barrage of acid
Thus becoming one with the waters
To be drunk again as diluted smoke

Earth shivers in raging fever
And It will rage, as it did once in Kuwait
That out of the ashes a Phoenix may rise
And with it, sisters Flora and Fauna
To breath on earth a new sigh

When a tree, sprung from today's udala seed
Delights a child with its very last fruit
Amidst a sea of flowers unending
These dark waters will cease to be
And like Noah's ark, shall become history

IFEANYI MBAH

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LIFE ON WHEELS

Have you got to make me this angry to get your attention?

You allow your mind free flow in the middle of our conversations.

Getting ready to take off any minute

but the keys in your hand are mine

I own the vehicle you so much need

Your absence of my attention makes me constipate them

Yes, the few who love my attention to much it's sickening

They choke on the fumes of my love but you don't

If you only share my attention with them few all would be healthier

Because you are as sick as they are: you just don't know it.

lose that favourite word, it doesn't suit you

That word, can I get; it, that, him right now!

I know you are young, impatient but please be patient Patience.

Your strength and wealth I would be if you please

The vehicle doesn't own me, I own it.

My strength is in your attention, the loss of it burns me out.

Though you make me shine, I make you complete.

DORIS KOMLA

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BURNING THROUGH TO BEAUTY

Beat the drums
For truth is born
In you is truth personified
You are burning through to beauty

Beat the drums
For wisdom is here
With humility its' companion
You are burning through to beauty

Arise, sing, dance
For nature has turned
All shades like a Chameleon
You are burning through to beauty

Arise, sing, dance
For love has defied all seals
The harbour is stronger than strong
You are burning through to beauty.

CHRIS 'N' JOHN

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I BURN

I burn..

I burn…

Not the one that torches house

But that which touches the soul

I burn

Yes I burn

Burn for the will to move

And mow all thorns blocking the way

The ones hell bent on letting innocent blood

I burn.

I burn..

I burn…

I burn with the will to hit the bucolic abodes

And make them more habitable

I burn with an unending

Urge to end the lives of those weasels

Feeding on the ignorance of my people

I burn to see the day

That the castles they built crash down like a pack of cards

Like my friend who is currently crying her eyes sore

After bleeding our oil reserves sour

I burn for the third eye

To see beyond the souls of those mamparas

Who think we all are boneheads

So I can cut their souls short

No, I won’t terminate their lives

I will spare them

To participate in the joy of suffering

An excess of it, they sure will get

Oh!

I burn!

ILUPEJU ADEBAYO

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MARTIN

Wind

Patting the heads of mountains

Wind

Lending strength to coal charred short of strength

The strength it dies to have

To burn

To feel alive

To see that red

That leaves the shade of night

Coal longing to catch fire

The fire yet sapping it

Making ashes of a trunk resisting the blows of axe

Like Martin

The hardly Lutheran King

Sapped by the kindle and rekindle

Of the essence making him

Keeping him alive

Stealing yet his breath

He dies in the dearth of air

Of wind beyond the mountains

When he stops marching he dies

Short of the grave

The march sapping him

Scaring him

Yet making him

To march is to risk his life

Not to march is not to live

Not to be

Not to exist

His heart in his palm he rallies yet his squad

Rebels with a cause

Warring without weapons

Singing songs scorching hearts of stone

Hearts aiming bullets to the heart of King

For the end of all

His brethren

His dreams

His time is short

The temporal life of burning coal

Of an eagle

Making last flights

He spreads his wings as could

Aided by a wind

His ambition

Like coal

Given force by a blower

A confidant in his distress

Harry Belafonte

Raising wind

For Martin to take flight

©CHUKWUEMEKA NJOKU OCTOBER 5, 2015

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NO BE ME O

What is it that goes in the mind of men?

What is it that pokes at men to commit evil,

But to done the cape of innocence when exposed?

I am scared of even letting my toddler out of sight

Or send my young girl to a neighbour’s house.

“No be me o

I no no as he take happen

I no rape the small pikin

Na call I call am come collect chinchin

I beg una na the devil o”

But the deed has been done

A small girl had lost her innocence

Laid bare on the bed of irresponsibility

Old enough to be her grand- father.

“No be me o

No be me o.”

But the deed has been done.

Will she be able to trust men again?

Will she be able to rise to her dignity?

Now that she is an object of ridicule

Taken before she could dream of her man

Shamed because she was too young to know.

What hatred do you harbour?

That burns deep in your heart

Kindled with revenge?

A man died by your hand

A woman just lost a husband

Through your evil way.

“No be me o

Na the devil o

Na play I dey play with am

Before I mistakenly stab am.”

Now you have committed crime

Ready to spend time

Or visit the hangman’s rope,

Now your life is sliding down the slope.

“I am burning with rage

Like a lion in its cage

I yearn to destroy

Destroy the world

For my failures it had brought”

So you went on a killing spree

Throwing bullets at the market place

Destroying all that came your way.

“Na be me do am

Na juju dem use for me

I swear I no do am

The gun be like catapult for my hand,

Na the devil cause am.”

The deed has been done

Someone is missing the one they love,

A love destroyed by your hands

And tears you squeezed from people’s eyes

Won’t yield to your innocence.

“No be me o

Oga olopa no be me.”

Before you are being dragged

And made to pay for your crime

Think deep and seek out time

To weigh the consequence of your actions.

Na me o,

Na me,

Oga you see this verse,

na me write am.

© AYINLA MUYIDEEN ADELEKE

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A NEW WORD

It was written unblemished and pure

And noble heroes fought for virtues

Now our house is on fire

We have pushed ignorance to new heights

We need a new word to describe our reality

Blood moon, a visitor with known antecedents

And yet some celebrate

Celebration of squirrel’s shamelessness

I will return the ransom if given the opportunity

A promise made to the palm tree

And a glorious opportunity not to be missed

Give rabbit the carrot

And monkey the banana for safe keeping

When surprise is surprised by the new reality

We need a new word to support surprise

Hate and its fellow vices are feeling insecure

For they feel inadequate to describe humanity

This is just the beginning

We will burn to ashes

To prepare the land

Protect your seed 

For the new planting season

IFEANYI OKWOSHA          October 2015

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FIREMAN’S LAMENT

Ice is hot 

So you drop it, 

I'm sweating in the snow 

Heaven burns. 

Saturday nights 

No longer give 

Sunday mornings,

We are at the end of the circle. 

After the bomb 

A moment's pause, 

The shepherd boy 

Sings in the choir of the burning lights, 

They croon a pagan love song, 

We are all children of the firehouse. 

The world is waiting for the sunrise, 

Monkey brains;

The end is where we begin, 

Look past the scars. 

Yesterday 

I gave my last broadcast, 

Still the world didn't end in sulphur.

I'm on a Lagos bus, 

The journey 

Feels like a jail sentence, 

Infernal noises 

Like sounds of saints 

Singing from hell;

They say we are going home, 

There were the devil's spotless feet

Once did roam. 

Who will save Rome 

From herself?

This generation is thirsty, 

Yet, fresh fountains flow

From the old library shelf. 

We will build monuments 

With the little hands of concrete,

Doubt is the womb 

From which the fetus of faith 

Was aborted;

Curiosity denied 

She killed the cat. 

I too love the wild uncertainties 

Of life, 

But love to be specific 

On certain things

Like;

When does this romance end, 

I want to be invited to my funeral.

 Soonest NATHANIEL

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THIS THING OF OURS

I found out that this thing of ours is just for us

This our world is bigger than life itself

Nobody really likes us except for us

In this thing of ours

Yet they will uproot hell itself

And plant it in heaven to be a part of it

They thought we would quit

But they could as well say goodbye to goodbyes

Hot hate cooked so well

That it gives life to death

Our words hit like the son of krypton

And their words like the sissy we picked on

See we are writing memories

We are re-writing destinies

We are unveiling mysteries

And this fire we carry?

It burrrrns!

Not like theirs as hot as ice

Not like theirs weak where it lies

Our has been burning

Been burning since the beginning

Dug from the depths of the soul

Evacuated from the pits of imagination

Poured into this world they call theirs.

CHISOM