POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 7 EPISODE 12 EXTRAS

AKEEM OYALOWO (WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH)

I STARTED DOING IT BIT BY BIT (POEM OF THE MONTH)

Tiny footsteps as if I’m dancing to a beat

Making it soft

Like a river caresses its shores

Telling you this is lifelong

That I am certainly sure

Nothing ever so pure, has ever been found

Patience has a syllabus

Including a chapter called whatever goes around comes around

Reaching a tipping point

Approaching edges, to stare at your fears in the face

Knowing you are human

Because you’ve experienced defeats

Rising

As a surprise,

As a means to disappoint

Those who confirmed you’re stuck at a dead end

Reaching a bend

And calling it a turning point

Putting the pieces back together

While accepting all of life’s task is solving riddles and puzzles

I have found you,

Stuck on the threshold of greatness

Willing to be the evidence

And then asking you to vote for me,

Allow me bear witness

Your smiles, your laughter

They are my strength, and they get me high

And being high is my weakness

So weak I’m tolerant of your faults

So high, I am focused on your vaults

That coven of riches

For which your beauty fronts

That bundle of goodness

Which seduces trust

That voice of yours, which dares

And confronts my guts

I’m doing it bit by bit

Not seen caressing your soul

But here I am at your feet

I am preempting your words

Because you are close enough to make whispers shy

I think always of you as a queen

Because your royalty is your twin

Walking so lightly, as if the winds provide buffer between your soles and the earth

Watching your beauty in deeds, realizing then that there’s soul in every classic art

I am doing this for the concrete, from a which a rose emerges

Doing it for a future, which others can only imagine

I am doing this for you

Such life in this love 

That qualifies you as the love of my life

Too much milk for a sour past

We desired a change of cast 

I’m doing this bit by bit

Words off my tongue, deeds off my heart

Nothing I can repeat

Something I hope to see to its end

But can never hope to finish

I am doing this bit by bit

Fetching water from the oceans

Because every day you need a bath

Showers of love for which joy is a catch

Never forgetting to say there’s more from where this comes

Daring you to see what happiness becomes

Seeing a smile on your face

Knowing it’s the symbol for triumph

You saying you’ve never been loved this way

Me, replying this is just for today

That’s there’s more tomorrow

Daily doses of sweetness from the beats of my heart

It has come to you in bits

Because it’s how we define forever…

AKEEM ADETAYO OYALOWO

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

SPARE LIFETIME

Midnight!

The Missionary’s dawn bell tolls thrice

Who took away her god, you murmured

Burrowing deeper into the quilt

You tuned out her voice.

Until that fateful day

Funny, she also wanted what you did: 

An extra bit of bedtime

So she came a little later than sunrise.

                      

But someone’s got here first

And he said happy deathday to you

Cutting your heart out, you pleaded

Citing your affiliation by pedigree.

‘That ended on your apostasy day’ he said’

Before you were given the extra time.

Which you termed as infinity

After all, a tie always births a penalty

Why did you have to miss your only shot at life?

The grace period is ended,

Madam missionary arrived at dawn

This time wearing only a whistle

For she had drawn her robe of a cotton 

Taking a bow she said

This is your ninth live!

 ADIEU!

OYE LOLADE

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

SECOND BASS

I really don't talk much,
let the walk do the talk, top notch
I reminisce on trying to climb up,
folks told me to go get a job,
so, I got one pushing a tow truck
On my kneels one day, I got stuck
trapped in a G-wagon, G in a horse... thought out the box, left the bandwagon
They say," once it pass, it's  past
Leave It behind, Let it go"
What they don't tell is your ass is behind and everywhere you go.
Now smiling... Like the
rain I got you wet, without a break of sweat
That's how we connect, it's bluetooth without internet. No, we not yet
intimate, that is just my intellect.

Give an impotent man a rifle
He gets an erection,
he cocks it... in his insolence
thumbs at his chest as though with a bible
Am leading the insurrection,he says "pork it"
Standing on thin ice with a shotgun
Boom! pull the trigger everything goes south...Zoom the aperture of
your mind's lenses,
The truth is neither glass or plastic.

I met the devil back in ninety six
breaking things I hope I won't have to fix
It all started when I got my first erection
No-one to help point it in the right direction
Demons are inherent,Angels were invented
You know what they say about life giving you lemons
I made demonades from each one of my demons
diabolic! don't you find that ironic.

Every time I free the blinds,I feel the darkness creep in,I gave my
life twice, twice I took it back in, it is almost like
the devil put a bounty on my head
I can only be a hero only if am dead
Hit the lowest low trying to get high
Y'all do what you got to do to get by
They say I back slide, I think I turned the next slide.

Do you want to watch the world burn? Why not let's grab a soda while
we at it...3D glasses,front row seats, mushroom clouds, rotten
tomatoes,
movie addicts, got to have it
Back to back box-office, it's a hit
Trust me, you don't see this one coming, Kamikaze...Damn! Popcorn is
missing, Pow! Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Bows... Kobayashi, catastrophic.



 Click...
"Hello"
"911!"
"What's your emergency?"

ADEOYA AJIBOLA

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

CRUSADE INVADERS

More crimes for more times

More birth for more death

More vacuum for more spectrum

More vision for more diction

More arms for more humus

More sores for more scoops

More money for more friends

More penury for more mercury

More voices for more sources

More clothes for more loads

More brooms for more rooms

More condoms for more sex

More dreams for more teams

More wives with more knives

More children for more kindred

More homes for more domes

Can you have more to it

UBONG ABASI

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

A VOICE COMMANDS ME: ‘CRY!’

A voice commands me: ‘Cry!’

And I answered, ‘What shall I cry?’

Of the hidden extras:

The withered grey hairs of wild flowers

And the poisoned honey of their breaths

And the world’s leadership totters, tethered in tatters

Dressed in tamed omnipotence

Standing solid on the grounds of false floors.

Don’t you see, vultures on the bodies of slain children?

A voice commands me: ‘Cry!’

And I answered, ‘What shall I cry?’

Of the forbidden extra-regular:

The fate of our blue planet in cauldron

And the nested belching queues of filths

And the haemorrhaging feet of mass anxieties

Seething in myths of supremacy

Gulping a vast cocktail of bruit as fruits

Don’t you see, squadron of iron eagles, inaugurating sky burials.

A voice commands me: ‘Cry!’

And I answered, ‘What shall I cry?’

Of the maddening extraction

The irredeemable skilled hunter of the online

And the awful ease of seduction and obsession

And drowning in the ocean of prints, inks and links

Laced with frenzies and pretences

Well adjusted to hell and the whirlpools of tired habits

Don’t you see? I can’t find a room for myself in myself.

A voice commands me: ‘Cry!’

And I answered, ‘What shall I cry?’

Of the frightening extraterritorial.

Africa is where my heart lies

And there, I know which scream is mine

And there, green grass withers, fresh flowers fades.

The drawbridge is a pretending wall

Yet the thorn is a thing of beauty, if it wears the rose.

Don’t you see, rumbling stars in the African sky?

Africa’s awakening! And I am running with the stars tonight!

MICHAEL ACHILE UMAMEH

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

“10,000 ERRORS”

When I thought I found love,

but it all was a mistake.

When I was beaten so badly by lukewarmness,

that I felt I was insane.

What is the concept of my reality?

Living (life) is slipping by, like the slippery little things in my palm.

I keep chasing the same vice, the chasm of my solace.

Accumulating the failures of this virtue.

Just pulse and think twice about a few, you would see the menace.

I sort one beauty, the one that makes sense to you,

but yet I cannot find it.

My mind is left with the paintings of the shadows of uncertainties.

I am lost in my own futurity.

Like searching for a needle in a bag of rice.

Strange it is.

Find me if you wish, I wonder my stability even,

for I hide in the disclosure of pleasure.

That evasive reality,

the fear of my obscurities.

This joke is no longer fiction.

My peace has met its war.

Living to die

But for more to come.

Like singing to dance

But for all to join.

More and more,

like the more that Oliver Twist won.

PANEL.

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

MAMA GAVE TOLA MORE

And I

always watched with

eyes

Veiled, my resent

Well tucked away

That extra

piece of meat

pat on the back

peck on the cheek

Loomed in my memory for

Years

For every little extra that

Mama did for Tola

Though little

Almost

Inconsequential

I grew

robust

With envy

I expanded with

green

Like a well fed cow

My memory bank

Rose

with deposits of

Mama’s extras

For

Tola

Tola the one with the perfect

Tenses and straight white teeth

The Tall pretty one

The preferred one

Perhaps mama dished out

More affection for Tola

Because…

KEMIBON

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

JOURNEYING WITHIN TIME

Some suns set before they rise

Some follow their natural course

I have seen some age gracefully

As some pray for theirs to set,

Others ask for extension.

The night that follows

Brings in its wake new light.

Day and night the fruit of earth’s elliptical dance,

Round its mother

A balancing act for the natives

The Sun never sets

The earth sets and resets

In its course round its mother

As evolution, dissolution and disintegration occurs

Ushering in new beginnings

How do you make out extra from that that stands still?

Within time

All is movement

All is given

Given to all

I will not ask for extra

Only grace to fulfill within this stand still

IFEANYI OKWOSHA        

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

EXTRAS

Can you see me Morenikeji

Ignoring the Agberos

Assembled on the streets

With knives and tools

Hoping no one gets slaughtered

Can you see me?

Can you see me Oyinkansola

Jumping and then running

When the strong harmony

From a truck’s horn

Hits my ears

Can you see me?

Can you hear me Ifasan

When my thoughts

Are interrupted by the pain

In my tummy

Saying

“Agbe Ile Onitiju

you’re too hungry”

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me Omo Onimalu

Thinking of how good

Your meat smells

When you freshly cook it

At your family house

In the village

Before I bump into a pedestrian

On the walkway

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me Onifise

As I calmly apologise

To this pedestrian

Who out rightly refuses

To accept my apologies

And slaps me

On my face

Can you hear me?

Can you see me Adisa

As I take out my “protection”

In fear of the aftermath

Of this prickly encounter

With an equally troubled pedestrian

Can you see me?

Can you see me Iyanuoluwa

Sweating

As a market woman

Beckons to me

To carry her tomatoes

Can you see me?

Can you see me Bamidele

As I turn away

From this obstinate pedestrian,

With my cart eagerly

Touching the hard gravel

To Move on

to the market woman

As I greet her with my eyes

As though she’s my homecoming

Can you see me?

Can you hear me Aduke Ade

Screaming through my smile

Wondering why the Sun

Continues to hide its face

in disappointment

When no one can hear me

Can you hear me?

ABIOLA BONUOLA

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

PADDLE YOUR CANOE

Not all Oliver's ask for more

Not all Counts keep score

And not all Lecturers are a bore

All folks have unique strokes

To each opera its orchestra

Each era its drama

Each avenger his agenda

Each dogma its messiah

And each enigma its stigma

We all have phobias

Not everyone can ride a gondola

Nor do we all like pajamas or bananas

Or even iguanas

We all aren't madonnas

Neither do we all have diplomas

No one has a replica

So why all this fuss

This constant buzz

Why try to tame an anaconda

Or carry a gorilla

Asking for Extras

Extras!

In life's cinema

Full of  stanzas

Keep to your bars

Its yours not ours

 

ERHIO

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

ORCHARDS OF YEMEN

Yemen,

Her men take pride in breaking

The hymen early

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Six teens with broken saucers

Drip water like over flowing cisterns

The strength of a single pestle

Hidden in the over flow of a Bubba

Uncoiling like an adder to strike a protrusion

Into the belly of a juvenile

And gift her a scholarship in the study of

Pain

And Tears

Maternity

And Mortality

The Nubian Sentry watches

Another prayer makes it into his book

Yah Allah

Dry the waters of their testes

These men

These wells will not be missed when their waters run dry

No one shall go to sea to fetch any waters

If only the likeness of their semen flows out there

Sanaa is the capital of a twin

A Blade

A double catastrophe

Drought kills the seed of the comb

And the seed of the womb

Stalks of maize and stalks of men

Stand on a broken road watching the hazy horizon

For hope to return

On prosthetics

Limping or crawling

But hope is the hostage of factions and foes

As another child is sown in the orchard of Tombstones.

CHUKWUEMEKA

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

EXTRA EXTRA

Even extra extra's

Telling the breaking news

Of unaccountable catastrophes and erupting, effluvient volcanoes. The back page headlines telling that Arsenal lost again amongst the bigger front page extra's of Syria and Isis not Isis the goddess of Egypt and wife and mother of Osiris called Horus and even in some renderings Semiramis mother and wife of Nimrod. No not that Isis but the one of isil  and Boko Haram. Extra extra's talking of momentous events defining the contours of our lives. Presenting evidence that demands a verdict and evokes less than commensurate responses. Extra extra's so prevalent that now we suffer video overload and audio kwashiokor and walk back on the other side of the road like engaged priests and leaning Pharisees. And what shall we do now to be saved?

ANDREW WHYTE

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

THE EXTRAS

(The first prophecies from the priests of the gods on Nkwo market day)

This is for the extras in Oruku

“monsters” not to be talked about in Oruku

Let me tell you about them

This is for the extras in Oruku

The afflicted ones

Those left na uzo okpulo

Looking like an estranged couple

This is for the extras

Those who cannot afford to rest

Those who gather their tears in the dark

Turn it into a smile by day

This is for those who cannot go on

Those extras eji mejiputa uwa

Who in them there is no more power

But have to go on

This is for those ones you notice once in a while

Blended in like the colors of a tile

Those seen only by the coners of the eyes

That reveal the truth we tell ourselves that are lies

This is for those extras in Oruku

That hope has been wrest from their hearts

Those whose greatest are grotesque

Those that aspire to nothing

This is for the downtrodden in Oruku

Whose lives are thrown down and trodden

Who live lives chosen

Who dream only of seeing another day

This is for those who are holding on

Those who still stubbornly hang on

Those you will never hear their stories

Because they have lost their voices

This is for them

We the gods remember them

CHISOM

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

THE ART

There is a knowing,
Sitting right on the bed
Of my mind,
Rocking my being,
Through my veins;
It beats my nerves
To smooth my fears.

No, I am not scared
To be weird,
Not afraid to stand out.
I play the extras to surpass,
Not the extras to wakapass,
But they are all like the heat;
Locked out
Of the wind of my arts.

I am too deep
For their deep,
I am too complex
For their crap.

Do not bother to know
If you can't understand,
For like begats like,
But take this
For it's true.
The knowledge of me,
Is as easy and true
As a blinked eyes.

CHRIS 'N' JOHN

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

BE THE EAGLE

Eagles may not fly

In very turbulent storms

Like a huricane or whirlwind

Doesn't mean after the storm

They dont resume flight

Great men will face

Troubling times

But a retreat is not a pass

Or excuse to quit

Be like the eagle

Be the eagle

The eagle is audacious enough

To own the sky

Soaring as high as it can

It will only descend

To feed, rest or mate

But it's decsent is not permanent

It knows where it belongs

And where it belongs

Is not on the ground

Reptiles belong on the ground

Eagles feed on reptiles

Dont be a reptile

Be the eagle

Eagles have a the keenest of sight

They do not struggle in flight

So if you do not have a vision

Or keep flapping about

strugling to to stay mid air

Then you may be a goldcrest

Or the Red-cheeked cordon-bleu

But in the movie called nature

The eagle is the star

The others are extras

Making the eagle look good

Dont be one of the extras

Be the star

Be the eagle

OLAMIDE SANTOS

LARIOSTYLZ

THE WORDSMITH

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

IT ENDS AS IF...

our daily stories beckon

a reflection of noon

never about the day

more like the  night

with or without the moon

the star is bound to move

a move understood only by the sun

 each day... a grace

it moves on,

time seeps by

then it gets dark

as if there was no day

whether it is today or morrow

the beauty faces cry faintly beneath

as if morning never came at all

every day we sleep ... snore

is but a rare gift from the top

people leave

other people die

people cry

every morning with a cock crow is an extra

we are all extras in our stories

for life ends as if it never began

Alayande Stephen T. 

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

EXTRAS!

Planets align and re-align,
moon and stars govern dusk

And sun brakes forth with dawn.
That elements exist and are seen as beings with us;

our cosmic alive!
Extras!

Oceans roar, rivers gaily slap their course, lakes and ponds calmy or stilly tend their wards.
That rainfall foxtrots to their pita-patting at roof tops....
Extras!

Noise is rife for words said to be cheap is mortard in disconcerted sounds.
That music must play on for poetry and poets postulates its vitual for love or lust.

Creativity is hard for Calm and silence are priced. Yet meditation and brown study cuts our generation a benevolent slice...

Extras!

Man goes from prison to the throne, bread hawking to the list of super models.
That surrogate always takes his master' place...
Extras!

That misfits become key and acts of mistakes make and live in the pages of great and noble deeds...

Extras!.

FABIAN MCROB UGBECHIE

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

DEAD THINGS

The first time he came into my room at night

He asked me if I was afraid of the dark

It was that night I learnt that

I should be more afraid of the things that I can see

Rather than those that I can’t see

When he placed his hands on my laps

The darkness unfurled into doorways

Like the muse of a dead poet looking for a poem

I wanted to scream

But I couldn’t find my voice in the darkness

that had over shadowed my being

Things that are not lost

are usually impossible to find

I was eight, with a voice still too light

And a mind still so bright

He said he wanted to show me the world

When he pulled down my trousers

I felt so many things inside of me die

When he parted my tiny legs with his rod

It was as though I swallowed all at once

The pain of the Israelites in a single pill

I was eight, I was naïve and he was my father

He told me to trust him, so he thrusted deeper

my body became a futuristic time machine

With which he travelled to an alternate universe

One where he was emperor riding dead things

You see, dead things do not die

They only weep and decay

The more the tears, the faster they rot

There are so many dead things inside of me

And I weep a lot.

AJIJOLA HABEEB

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

THE EXTRAS

They come

in a second skin,

these passer byes,

ever seeking a second chance

at first place.

Drunk on caffeinated dreams,

fed fat on bowls of memories.

Wishing is a skill,

they wield it best,

but

only dogs know

how to be happy,

it is human

to believe

in that heaven

which we will never enter.

The lizard learns

from the chameleon

but

only cats know

how to be sleek,

only snakes know

 how to be sly,

these bats cannot comprehend

the value of their darkness.

Theirs is the other room,

built with accidental geometry.

They understand public grief

but must laugh at their father’s funeral.

And when all the mourners go home,

They rise and make love to silence.

The morning is for disguises,

they says peace is up for sale at the mall.

but for the extras,

their is a glass fence to scale.

Who will pick a pebble 

to unravel the riddle,

maybe these window-shoppers

can go in 

and buy themselves 

a chance 

a second chance 

at the first place.

SOONEST