POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 7 EPISODE 10 "ENDLESS"

WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH

 BEFORE YOU ADD THE SALT TO THE RICE

(winner poem of the month)

Mother did say there’ll be days

But she never said they would be like this

She said before you add the salt

To the rice

Sit a while and listen to this

You will fall in love and it will feel good

But don’t get carried away with this

‘Cause when you get up from that fall

You’ll find love is more than this

Before you add the salt to the rice

My child know

That forgiveness is just that

Forgiveness

It’s either that

Or resentment and pain

And believe me you don’t want that

Before you add the salt to the rice

I tell you

No one matters to me more than you

Your happiness, your peace, your growth too

For You

My love will ever shine, like the sun in an African sky

Mother is gone but I can hear her

Through the fall in and of love

I can feel her warmth

Through the ice wall you have erected

As I wait endlessly for you to forgive

Mother said there’ll be days

But she never said they would be like this

The day I added distrust and earned your cold shoulder

KEMIBON

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

A NOTE FOR SMALL MOMMY (WORTHY OF MENTION)

WORTHY OF MENTION WINNER

The day I called you mommy, I knew like the 3 year old boy in primary who won't let his mother leave for work, that I won't leave you, I knew like that boy I will wait brilliantly in class, half the time relishing the joy of a mother's warm embrace; and my lust will fuel my legs ready for that race into your arms again after the closing bell of joy is tolled. 

Did you fall asleep mommy? Did you drift as I tell now the tale of a boy whose eyes were always on the clock, urging it to tick away the light of day, to that time when he like a sheep long gone astray may return to his mother's fold. 

And the world will wonder how he passed his exams, but who will tell them that at the school of his mother's thighs, he often recalled in love all he had learnt only just to behold the smiles on her face and the glint in her eyes. 

Who will tell them that for every correct answer, he got a kiss, and often some dry fish to show he scored a great point.

Small mommy, I am that son, who would outpace lightening itself, just to be next to you, with palms stroking my hair, while i purr lost in your care.  

Nne, I am that boy who your love made into a man never afraid to cry, who learnt from the slate in your eye, that for every woman loved, the earth finds another reason not to dry up and die.  

Mommy the day you called me daddy, tears seeped through the crevice of my heart and welled in my eyes, for I knew that the baton had been passed from girl-to-woman, that this child who must father the man must drink his childhood; to womb dreams whose reality the world earnestly awaits.  

Adanne, I knew that in the school from which graduation is impossible, I had found a teacher, whose motherly care will keep me in class; I won’t be shy to show the world my report card, for you score the sheets, and love is the pass mark.

SOONEST

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

TIME MACHINE
Take me to the time in the past
Sometime after the hills rose
The desert sands gathered
The rivers began to flow
And nature organized her flock
I want to see
That time when man knew peace
Harmony
Serenity
Love
When women and children were happy
When men were not mini-gods
That time when money and respect were earned
And greed was not yet a word
Take me there
Let me see
Historians please give me the date
I need to know it is possible
For man to live without hate
But if historians can not tell me
Maybe the fortune tellers will
When will it be?
Let me journey to the future
What year would men know peace?
When would our society be corruption free?
When would we be rid of sacred cows?
When would my journey begin
And my search end?
When will I see?
Just tell me the year
Past or future
And I will go there
For I need to see
Hope

ERHIO

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

A BEGINNING THAT IS ENDLESS

A journey without a beginning

We were not there when it started

No it did not start

There no beginning

The beginning was when we started

And shall return to our beginning

Where we belong

How do you explain a timeless existence?

An existence beyond your beginning

No wander it is said

Time stands still

And we walk through time

All is movement within time

Time!

Who can tell me the time, time started?

To start keeping time for time

In this stand still called time

Were only movement is a constant

And that constant is change

Was there a beginning before the beginning of our beginning?

The word beginning can only be

When there is a beginning

Beginning!

There is an end to a beginning

Yes that we understand

I do not pretend to understand

Infinity

Eternity

Limitless

A journey without a beginning

We were not there when it started

No it did not start

There no beginning

The beginning was when we started

And shall return to A BEGINNING THAT IS ENDLESS

IFEANYI OKWOSHA

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

"JUST THE BLUE FLAMES"

Nothing more, just the flames. The blue ones.

What is there about all these? A million needles piercing my skin.

Little by little, I feel the pain and the heat.

The every moment that your act bounces on me like a hit. The days when sin tastes like biscuit, maybe it still does.

That moment when all possesses its meaning.

Obscurity in doom, we are winning.

The Sun is now born-again.

The star has refused to fall every now and then.

The sky is lost in its own illusion. The clouds.

The moon has gone for its prom.

What is left?

This world is only a proem.

What do we want?

What do we want to live for?

What is the end of this all?

We keep doing the same thing. Over again.

What do you want?

The blue flames.

That is what I want.

That, is what boils my believes.

Yes, just like all, like Adam after the fall,

I have my fears. My hope is thus.

The rain drops, you know them? They never die, even if you think they do.

They hit the earth with the anger of the deceit of the sky.

They are filled with hope; they never sob nor feel disturbed. They know that they never die.

They rise again as soon as the Sun is born again. Now, they go in peace, stylishly, gratuitously but humbly, knowing that they have won the battle against the earth. Evaporation.

These are all moments in times of our lives.

We live, we die and then we live again.

"This is the summit of my fears"

But this as well is my hope.

Let the blue flames burn in me

As I remember my errors. In time now and in past then. Doing what I wish not, but done still. The same path Over and Over again. I have perceived the aroma of this flame. I have seen it. Its heat is what I cannot forfeit, for what I want is beyond me.

Let the blue flames burn, let it burn and burn off the scales I have formed in secret.

Let its fumes rob me and leave me rubbed with its perfumes.

Just the blue flames. That is all I ask.

#Panel.

ENUMAH KELVIN

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

ENDLESS

Endless opportunities 

Endless strife

Endless frustration 

Where do I start

Darting around in circles

Got me dazed like endless shots of vodka

This one's not for the kids

Very much unlike nursery rhymes  

Much like chimes, I

Tend to hate the lyrical chanting of ayes

As they sit and nod; Yes!

The intelligent nods of clueless people

I've heard it said;

It gives Endless satisfaction

To snatch the wig of victory from the scalp of defeat

For a certainty,

All I see are endless limits 

~the virgin poet | Sept 2016

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

HOME IS THAT  WET PATCH
beneath fallen leaves
That one spot
between celestial blues
and childhood harmony
Sepia Nostalgia
Massive childhood corridors now shrinking hall of memories

Your large dark rooms
Have arrested my senses
Talcum powder,  perfumes even soaps
bring a blast of laughter laced with tears
How I long for you.

Your corridors hid blushes of first kisses
Your bathroom lab to petroleum jelly induced experiments
Quakes were the end product

You heard the echoes of my first prayer
The naiveté of first shaky dripping dips
The muted moans of Foluke
Midnight tiptoes to render the soup pot barren

You carved me
From a piece of Oko Idanre
To a deity


In recent adventures
I've Roamed
From Duchin Bako to Paka
Agbani to Ubalaka
Bompai to Kafanchan
Kom-Kom to ifite a
Read Poetry on the hills of Ife
Swam the Aro waters of Itoku
Watched the sunset into the Niger
Tasted 404 in Ugep
Drank from the dripping caves of Ogbunike
Still I long for your comfort
Ulo Ibu Uzor
ine  me ka obim da joo.

HITCH

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

HOW TO WAKE THE DEAD

This is how you wake the dead

First you have to kill them first

Bury them yes six feet first

Take a bowl made of tin though thick

Take it to the grave that is six feet deep

Place it at the head of the grave

Pour a liquid maybe water

Try not to spill a drop it makes it better

Lay your hands on the grave

And say the prayer you have been taught

But say it only from your heart

Watch and see if they rise

Let it be like a work of art

And watch the bowl burst in flame

. . . this daily is the chant of the mad man of Oruku

He cants endlessly . . .

No one knows where he came or went

CHISOM

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

I WILL SING


With the tone of this burning flute

I seek to put this silence on mute

With the flames on my burning tongue

I shall sing for you a song



So my croaky voice does not hinder the flawlessness of this tune

I shall make music from the brightness of the dawning of the full moon

When words are faced with imminent defeat

I shall tell tales with the eager thumping of my heartbeat



I shall tell tales of how your tears watered this barren land

How your sweat soaked this draughty sand

I would hum tunes of how your flesh mopped rivers dry

And how your compassion made rocks cry



I shall tell stories of the sun that refused to set

The light that kept darkness away from sight

I will sing about the moon that concealed its light

So her stars can continue to shine bright



I will tell of the hands that moulded boys into men

I will sing to appease the heart that taught my heart to love

I will forever sing your praises

I will scream them always, with or without my voice.

AJIJOLA

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

Ending

I am not sorry

For this resolution

This conclusion

This final scene

I am not sorry

I am not going to apologise

Because my last act

Has to do with

Living for this King

This is not about

the saints marching

or movement or death

It is a simple epiphany

That chess is not just a game

It can be a law

You see in chess

We protect our King

Yet this King may deliver

the checkmate

This King is strong

Only at the endgame

Let’s close the books

that talk about

ide, ate and ite

Or the apocalypse

I would rather

not read them

Let’s just play

our music chords

Using the repeat sign

Or act as first time bars

He gives us Grace

to make stories in time

And we dance an everlasting mime

It may be bata

Definitely not that

Of the seven veils

Greene says He made a way

Don Moen said so too

Standing in a flower garden

I feel lighter

As though

He is right there

My Kaptain Afrika

Making a way

And He may be

After all He is

Our greatest Art Maker

Abiola Bonuola

October, 2016

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

The Circle

It is a circle
The man said
That the father of the son
Is the son of the father
So the land drowned further
In the liquid of his power
A circle he has formed
And as in a cage we are trapped.

It is a circle
The wind said
That the voice bears the air
And the air births the voice
So the land convulses
In the mirage of promised change
A circle he has formed
And as in a cage we are cornered.

It is a circle
Without end
The beginning bears the end
And the end the beginning
Even nature choruses this change
As blood soaked ground
Emits its luggage and we wail

It is a circle!

Chris ' N' John

NIGERIAN INDEPENDENCE READING BY LOUDTHOTZ POETS AT BEERHUGZ CAFE IKEJA MALL LAGOS NIGERIA ON OCTOBER 1ST 2016

Loudthotz poets were invited by the Management of Beerhugz Cafe Ikeja City Mall Lagos, Nigeria on 1st October, 2016 to perform some of their best works about Nigeria. The most interesting poets in Nigeria did not dissappoint, they held the cafe at stand still till the cafe could not take it any more and told us to leave LOL!

Anyway if you have events and you want Loudthotz poets to perform in your event, please send a mail to loudthotz@gmail.com . . . we don't charge much just a couple of Hundred thousands!

ENJOY BELOW THE POEMS READ AT BEERHUGZ CAFE (it's a long read . . . and you may understand why they told us to leave LOL!)

V’S OVER L

In 2001, Mama Oyo received an invitation

It was not a wedding invite

No, nothing that fancy

It wasn’t an invitation to birth a child either

You may begin to wonder

Oh, it must have been for a naming ceremony

Well, it wasn’t

The invitation did not come wrapped in an envelope

Neither did it arrive by post

It came speedily

Via electronic mail

Her son who was a politician

Received the invite

And told her it was time

Mama Oyo was elated

Though she had fought tirelessly

To have all her 6 children live in Nigeria

Her daughter Fifekemi had left

And settled in Texas

She had 3 girls and declared her childbearing

Days over

Mama Oyo was going to America

And she was beyond herself with joy

Her visa was granted with ease

Her son drove her to the airport

And her daughter picked her up thereafter

Mama Oyo was a disciplinarian

Primary school principal for 30 years

She believed in the traditional ways of

Bringing up a child

Her ways were tried and tested

Her children, her pride, testify

After Mama Oyo had settled in

Fifekemi called Lola, Lily and Lucy

Aged 10,8 and 6

To meet Mama

“Hello Granny” was their greeting

“Tani Hello” her reply

Mama Oyo spent all of 3 weeks in the land of liberty

Then packed her shock and disappointment

And returned to her fatherland

With pride in the knowledge

That her values were intact

That her mother and her mother’s

Mother had passed down a treasure

A culture rich and profoundly embedded

In simple but germane gestures

That connote respect and

Balanced the delicate dance

Between freedom and limitation.

KEMIBON

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

I AM A SURVIVOR

East, West, North and South
Upon the twelve
Like Israel's twelve
I laid my threshold
Nurtured by Chief Funmilayo
Like Mary nurtured Jesus

East, West, North and South
My monumental self is sorted
I bear my cultured self
In Ivories and Bronze
Beads sculptured into male and female
I made me a home
For excavators

East, West, North and South
I am a rainbow of reflex sparkles
My gifts made me the giant
Steep hills and valleys
Rocky mountains and mangroves
These bear my golden eggs
Adorned in garments of
Coal, iron, zinc and oil

East, West, North and South
In green and white
I bear my colours
Making eagle the crown 
On my horns
My surplus
Feed stomachs and unity
Ekpo and Akpe my ruling agents
Thought the white governance
Sharo showcased my tenacity and womanhood

East, West, North and South
Varied drums and wooden clappers
Calls up my steps
In rainbow wears
From Ishan Stilt
To Tiv Ajo and Icough
Ekiti heavy head masks
Thus brandishing Ubakala
A change agent
While Boorii relays
My complete melody

East, West, North and South
I am a rainbow of reflex sparkles
My call is laud
It makes the world quake
My testimonial has no mate
I have survived
And will still survive
Because I am a survivor.

CHRIS ' N' JOHN

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

NIGERIA: DESTINY’S CALL 
Where the sun shines
There too, shadow reclines
A time to whine, a time to wine
For Nigeria’s high destiny
To reclaim our dreams
To re-channel our streams
Of the geography of geniuses
Cast of the slough of cheap disguises

Where the seeds grow
There too, weeds prowl
A time to cry, a time to try
For Nigeria’s higher purpose
To restore merit
To rethink skewed social credit
Heal, national bad habit with integrity
Disband, the tribal cult of mediocrity 

Where grotesque darkness echoes 
There too, unconquered sun’s ethos
A time to obey, this time, today
Nigeria’s highest moral vision calls
To weld our numbers as majesty of sword and wealth
To weave our differences as tapestry of chord and health
And craft a tomorrow
Renewed, robust, resilient and never shallow

Arise, O compatriots, Nigeria’s call obey
Arise, O patriots. Today
To shun the stale tale of tribe
One nationhood we subscribe
Curb the irrational religious exuberance
Great lofty heights attain with endurance
Labour with cumulative epiphanies
And birth new incarnation
Of one nation bound in freedom, peace and unity.


@MICHAEL ACHILE UMAMEH

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

ONCE UPON A LIFE

Born with a wooden spoon

I was certain that I would reach the moon

And beyond

In this life time

I lived everyday growing in love

And sowing the seeds of same

Tough like growing sesame

But I stuck to the game

I am determined to be ahead of the game

In this life time

I have played for fame

Now only I, am here to take the blame

Even a lame man will not accept such blame

Jide had warned

But who was he to call the shots

In reality he had proven to be better than the lot

In this life time

In this same time and clime did we hear of missing billions

The other day it was a case of a stolen phone

The gash to the left of his head did not stop the boy

From landing in jail

At about the same time as his

A leader had cornered

Some billions

All we saw were headlines and arguments in the media

We are quick to conclude and judge

Even at 56 years of age

We have not been able to surpass the sage

Many years after, we are stuck with ideologies that was passed down by the sage

Another case is that of pot calling kettle black

Most of them have chosen to keep us in the “dark”

Making sure we have nothing to eat

Except a feast and excess supply of booze

‘Tis not time for human breakaway

But there should be a way somehow

A way to jolt us back to life and help us get a good go at 56

It will be fun, it will be sweat, it will be fight

Then, it will need a complete overhauling of our psyche

Then I can come back and tell the tale of “Once Upon A Life.

ILUPEJU

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

1.WE THE PEOPLE
1960!
 Raindrums on our parade ground
danced us all the way to the villa
with rainbow pens
to sign our independence
WE THE PEOPLE

WE drew up his hands
Zik , Awooo, Tafa
mounted up on the podium of hope
their statue still standing
WE the people!

'67- '70
The Eagle’s Leftwing is fighting her right wing
3 million starved a million killed
The bitter taste of death stronger than the cola
Made us drop our arms and clubs
We the people!

1993
En masse we are here
On a Tribe less queue WE stood
 To stamp our hand on the twelfth of June
But Kashimawo we all said, lets patiently watch
This we did until they jerked away our boxlike heart
It kept beating until we heard the announcement
 And then we died
Our democratic candle
Totally snuffed off
WE THE PEOPLE

1999
A hero is bred
Out of the dungeons of death
The general sent him on a king’s errand
After his nose scented a coup,
To couple with doom
But fate came on a stroll
And wrongly delivered letters
Death to the general
Life to the condemned
So out again we trooped gyrating what Mama gave us
Singing “He has given us victory, WE will lift Him higher”
We the people!

We the people
Now its our turn
To etch names in the national history
Like small gods our let there BE
Became!
Unlike the commandments
From the supreme
This one was made
For WE the people
By we the people


2012
We marched shoeless
To occupy again our land from the crude bunker
Mathematician who miscalculated
George orwell’s words
All animals are equal
And hiked up the common oil
Here we met with an open bracket of resilience
But marched on Machiavelli style
Stoutly meeting our death
But we knew we could
When we got the result for our trial
The hike went down, close bracket
Yes we can
WE THE PEOPLE!

2014
Silent night, unholy night
Along came the devil
Blood starved minion
Sucked buni yadi out of our boys
And fished out girls like sardines
To be carted away to neverland
A forest of ghosting
Sambisa talk to me
Who do we tell to bring back our girls
Are the people listening?

2015
Here we are, WE THE PEOPLE
Out with brooms
To sweep away the ills past
But with wands of old
So the modified emperor
Can hop a ride to the rock top
a viila painted in secrets of color
no not the house called white
we the people claim this one victory


yes changed we are
now
our voice being the voice of God
 must be heard
we will not leave the books we wrote unguarded
so you can change the words to suit you
because that’s the only power that we the people have
and now we need it to sing again
the songs we will chorus titled
2019!.








2. THE NATIONAL SIN
There is a new commander in town
And he’s written more commandments for our pleasure
Article 99,subsection 101b,
Corruption, a national sin!
Anyone found guilty:
“His name shall be written with blood ink
No monument shall be erected in his honor
His grave shall not have an epitaph
Neither should a requiem be sung on his funeral’

Our leader’s ear will tingle
When he hears we are all guilty
Of his national sin
His ear waxed blocked because
We even mentioned his name
As guilty of this among amongst several others
That we term national sin

“The man eaters
Don’t they call you brother sir?
National sin!
Cello taping together a part of the house
That wants to break away
National sin
When you engrave the descendants of the past
As the parent of the future
with national honors”
National sin!

Now declare every day a Sabbath
So that Its Lord can cleanse us both
Of our National sins.

3. NEVER LAND

Under the Iroko tree
As always we cracked nuts of lore
Never a heart to desert our land
But go we did, as shackles never imagined
Clamped our souls and body
To a colored spirit
For a sin we know not.

Our skin as associated with all things bad
We Never produce them a dirty thought
On our journey to destiny, Never could we afford a backward look home
Lest you risk a mortar in your mortal body
And like our kin, become a pillar of waste

Still we trudge, to a land desolate
Which by our hands were made fruitful
Though we Never had  a taste of our labor
Our mouths doubly locked from eatingand speaking out
Against our kinfolks the double agents

Never   were we given a chance to defend our strength
Like roosters whose crows were snuffed before sunrise
We swore Never  to let go,
our tales by the baobab tree.


 4. SONG OF THE NIGER
A lush green field of the savannah
Neighbors the desert of ceaseless water
in the plateau where my warm heart
is heated by the northern sun
and the cheeriness  of the lagoon

Ignoring  these, I hop
Into the city of bright lights
When highway holes port me off the lane
And the water supply ratio
Competes with electricity supply
How do I not gnash my tooth?

Until the cold of the frozen lands
Shattered my tooth in icy pain
And taught me the joy of misery
That cuddles one in loneliness

Now with all boldness I say
 Home is where the heart is
Where love struggles with comfort and wins
A prayer I cite
For you my  Nigeria
That you be made a bed of calmness
That soothes away all my worries
So i may seek not solace
In alien arms abroad.


LOLADE AJAYI
LOUDTHOTZ POET

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

HUNGER

Enough about Africa,

We have spoken of her beauty

too many times as it is,

We’ve overlooked our eyes

To this exquisiteness.

Nigeria too,

on her children

Who refuse to be selfless

Yet their hungry arms

Claw at their leaders’ mouth.

It wasn’t always like this

You know,

These leaders

looked noble and kind

With an air of wisdom and culture.

They worked together

And “left” together

They shook hands

And were friends

Nigeria was proud of them

Her people were happy

Ever hopeful

Even peaceful

Not starved

Strong

This is not a bed time story

Wake up!

Lest strife take you

As syphilis would

Wake up!

Lest you take strife

Like a pollen allergy

Whence it came,

You do not know

We do not need

To put our pained thoughts

On others

We can care,

Caution,

And move on,

They say,

But there is no

One way to life.

There are times ,

We,

Need to take that special

Time out,

To help,

Cheer,

And change

Another’s situation

There are times

We

Need to ignore

A person completely

Though thin limbs

And large fierce eyes

Stare at us for service

There are times

We

Shouldn’t ignore the reasons

Why a man

In a bus snaps

At the “conductor”

We

Could

Walk past a family

Seeking any kind of water

To another

seeking health

We

Could

Run to hold

The child who pukes

Due to his consumption

of bad food

Let’s live

As Ghandi

Or Paul Revere

Maybe Mary Slessor

She did protect children

After all

As we wait patiently

For Kaptain Africa

If he would have us

September 2016

ABIOLA BONUOLA

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

NIGERIA, WHAT HAVE YOU BECOME?

Nigeria, Nigeria, Once a warriors land

Reduced to nothing more than bribery and corruption

Crimes after Crimes Bombs after bombs

What has my country Nigeria become?

Crude oil as a blessing, Coal as well

Even the cocoa, sugarcane and avocado pear

But alas we misused these blessing and so

God said, “I need some people to help grow this Nation”

We are those people, the youths of this nation

We stand tall and reject all forms of corruption

We believe in Nigeria and we stand tall

Because we have the glory, the power and the mercy of God

So once again I have to address the Nigerians that think our

country is a mess

Despair not at what we have become

But rather, come and let us join hands and hearts

To forge the vision we want to be

Together we can make it, make Nigeria become

One nation, one country with freedom and God

Together we can rewrite our future again

Employing wills of steel and making choices that heal

For what ever we have become, only us can

un-become

ATEGZ AND ETTA OKOR © 2016

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

FOR ALL THERE IS

I am not the place named by the journal keeping Flora

This water kissing this white sand on this beach

Also kissed the feet of the Portuguese

When they came bearing salt and mirror as gifts to the King at Badagry

Just so they won’t make him angry

Before the days of Flora shaw

Soon as they set foot to this shore

The Portuguese unloaded their goods and also their expectations

This beautiful Sun dried up the wetness of their feet

This Sun coloured their whiteness with beautiful tans

Painted them brown with crayon and rays

That Sun wearing splendor in full regalia

Like the Buba and Agbada

Overflowing even the nails of the native Chief

That sun rising from the hills of Udi

And setting into the rocks of Abeokuta

I am not that place imagined on the comfort of a creaking bed

On which Flora lay on Lugard

After a moment of exhausted tension

I am Jaja

Rising from servitude to become the occupation opposing King of Opobo

I am the restive Binin soldiers resisting the foreign Queen and her bands

Gathered around the Kingdom to Usurp Oba Overanwen

No I am not this depravity running amok like a madman on fire

I am not daughters long taken from home to score cheap points

Only coming home on the pages of papers

I am not the internally displaced squalid

Acclimatizing for hell’s weather

I am

The art of the kingdom of Ife lying on the south western stretch of the Niger River

I am

The Iron castings of the Nok of the Niger Delta

I am

The bronze wrought of Igbo ukwu boasting of reach long enough to put Onitsha on the market

map

I am the famed sculptures of the Binin Empire

Making bronze gods taken to British museums in the cover of night

Wipe your tears child of my loins

And weep not for sunken breasts

In no time these breasts shall suckle again the children of my crevice

I am not a man with an end

Here I am

For all there is

And yet to come.

CHUKWUEMEKA DEUS NJOKU

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NATIVES OF TROUBLE
 
“Immensi, Tremmore, Oceani, who will teach my children Archimedes?”
 
Hell is place we once called home,
Where now the earth is dried up
And her womb would yield no crop
Because the river died of thirst.
The children and the suckling swoon
In the street of the desolate city
No corn, no wine;
Their mothers’ breast, a famished well,
 A desiccated winepress.
 
Yes,
The suckling deprived of mother’s breast
Nib on their thumbs,
hoping that the rock cries milk.
O! Who will rob the moon of her silk
To clothe this babies,
Born into a war so cold?
What words will warm wives
Now left with no husbands to have and hold?
When it leaks through the roofs of their thatched houses
Who will save their future from drowning in the past?
 
Sometimes we hear sweet stories of ice cream,
Those eaten by children of strangers;
For us it is sacrilege to dream.
We live a life of pi and only hope in the god of small things
To give the last orders
For too long, we have plied the ghost road,
caressed daily by sacred hunger.
We fled home with dearth and death in our possession,
And some still long to rob us of our nothingness,
Perhaps from those who have nothing,
Much more will be taken.
 
Humanity is cruel and cold,
But our coldness won’t freeze the sun.
Therefore, from the benevolence
Of the butcher,
The brewer,
The baker;
Give us this day our dinner.
Tax gods and let Ceasers pay their tithes.
O how long? I ask how long?
How long shall the women and children
Eat of the crumbs that fall to the dogs?
 
They say the war is ending,
but to every end a new beginning.
Can’t you see that this hunger in our eyes
Is a new war coming?
And you might ask who we are,
It’s simple, you need not look too Far.
For we are the casualties from Gwosa,
The living victims buried in some camp
With no lamp,
There in Taraba.
We are the forgotten ones, marooned in Gombe and Yobe,
There where compatriots have failed to arise,
For they can’t afford rice,
And Nigeria’s call they have refused to obey.
 
 
And tomorrow when the war is brought to your door,
They will say we are this and we are that;
But please bear this in your heart,
That we do not seek to toe some lecherous father’s path,
We are just natives of trouble,
Seeking a good name for bad sleep.
 
 
SOONEST NATHANIEL
Loudthotz
(@Bheerhugz 2016)
 
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THE WOMEN I LOVED

There was one, a black woman
who always sat like a man,
her legs wide open without fear
for what the prying world would see.
and she would often say:
“Let them bear witness
that this lady is endowed
with an elephant-size testicle!”
 
There was another,
a weaver of baskets in Cameroon.
For grass she used boys’ pubic hairs,
and for rush the thicket of their eyelashes.
The twines of her wicker baskets
were men’s beards and mustaches.
She always stored in her womb,
beer, grains and the skulls of decapitated dreams.
 
The other, my father’s wife
said the sentences of her life
kept missing their periods,
because a lecher suckled at her nipples
before she grew breasts.
She would often sit me on her thighs
 and stare me gently into my eyes,
and she would say: “Blind men see the best,
It doesn’t take a penis to impregnate a woman.”
 
There was another, a full Indian.
She knew the rope trick,
could turn water into wine,
and like a true daughter of Babel,
believed in breaking the rules.
The year the rice crop failed in my homeland,
she wove her webs of silk and spurned her honey traps;
I left my locks on her laps, and ate it whole with milk.
 
The prophet’s whore always faked her orgasm.
She wouldn’t suckle her son on her breasts,
she wouldn’t let her fawns fall;
she wanted them ever firm, ready to heed the swinger’s call.
 But that which the toddler’s tongue didn’t do, time did.
Its hands fondled her wilt,
and the swinger, her milkman,
sought fresh udders in Sarajevo.
Then I turned to my sister,
 but she had no breasts.
And there was nothing I could do
on the day she was spoken of
and given to a man who wears only skirts.
I loved aunty too,
but she never saw any pride in pissing up walls.
So these days I have learnt to look elsewhere,
and there forever to live
with the scars of light.
 
 SOONEST NATHANIEL
Loudthotz
(@Bheerhugz 2016)

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SONG OF THE NIGER
A lush green field of the savannah
Neighbors the desert of ceaseless water
in the plateau where my warm heart
is heated by the northern sun
and the cheeriness  of the lagoon

Ignoring  these, I hop
Into the city of bright lights
When highway holes port me off the lane
And the water supply ratio
Competes with electricity supply
How do I not gnash my tooth?

Until the cold of the frozen lands
Shattered my tooth in icy pain
And taught me the joy of misery
That cuddles one in loneliness

Now with all boldness I say
 Home is where the heart is
Where love struggles with comfort and wins
A prayer I cite
For you my  Nigeria
That you be made a bed of calmness
That soothes away all my worries
So i may seek not solace
In alien arms abroad.


LOLADE AJAYI
LOUDTHOTZ POET
© 2016
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DANIEL

Who's da man
That comes around
To turn around
Our woes and foes?

Refrain
Daniel's da man
That's got da wit
Daniel's the man
That'll fix da bit!

Who's da man
That takes da lead
To take da lid
Off our eyes?

Who's da man
That shows our hands
The land to till
Our tum to fill

Who's da man
That drags da net
To rid da street
Of reeds and weeds?

Who's da man
That schools my man
To be a man
And man his life?

When
Whence
Comes Daniel?
For Daniel's da man
That's got da wit
Daniel's da man
That'll fix da bit!

FREDRICK DARE
LOUDTHOTZ POET
© 2016

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RISKY

THIS IS WHAT WE BLEED FOR?
SHED TEARS FOR?
TO RUN AROUND IN CIRCLES AND HOOPS
JUST TO KEEP RUNNING AROUND IN CIRCLES AND HOOPS?
MTCHEEEEEEEEEWWWW!!!
ME DON TIRE JOR, BABA BRING BACKS OUR GIRLS FALAFALA
BRING BACK THE WAR
LIKE YOU DID BEFORE
YES THE WAR AGAINST INDISCIPLINE BACK4 IN ’85 NO, 84
WHEN THE LONG, HUGE HANDS OF HISTORY SANDWICHED YOUR SHORT TENURE RIGHT SMACK INBETWEEN THE ONE WHO’S NAME WE REMEMBER RYHMES WITH CASSAVA FLAKES AND OH THAT OTHER MAIGIDA WE USED TO CALL MARADONNA
INTERESTING HOW YOU MADE IT CRYSTAL CLEAR THAT YOU ARE  THE FIRST GRANDFATHER TO BECOME NOBODY’S FATHER PLEASER
YA DROVE THE POINT HOME WHEN YA  ORDERED THE TERMINATION OF THE 9.3 BILLION NAIRA PIPELINE SECURITY CONTRACT AWARDED TO ALA DEM SCATTER FILTER

KNOW YE NOT BRETHREN THAT THE LAW HAS DOMINION OVER A MAN FOR AS LONG AS HE LIVES?
THIS IS WHAT THE GOOD BOOK SAYS IN ROMANS CHAPTER 7 VERSE 1
SO NOW THAT CHANGE HAS COME
IT’S NO LONGER FUN AND GAMES ANYMORE
DROP YOUR JAWS Y’ALL
EXPERIENCE THE GRAND FINALE OF BOX OFFICE BLOCKBUSTERS LIKE, ‘’CORRUPTION CRIMES’’ AND ‘’THE ABOLISION OF THE IMMUNITY CLAUSE’’
PAUSE
WHY DO YOU SCOFF NOW THAT CHANGE HAS COME
MAKE YOU DEY DIA DEY YIMU
NO BI ME WIT YOU BIN BUY KEROSENE FOR A THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED PER GALLON ON THE EVE OF REDEMPTION WHEN WE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO MAKE SOME PECULIAR POCKETS PLUMS?
OH I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU
BUT I’M DONE BEING DUMB
GO AHEAD AND CALL IT NAIVETY
FLING FACTS AND FIGURES IN MY FACE MAKING THIS MISSION LOOK LIKE AN IMPOSSIBILITY
BROTHER I UNDERSTAND THE ECHOES OF YOUR GLOOM
SISTER I USED TO LIVE IN THIS EXACT SAME ROOM
BUT NOT ANYMORE… NOT ANYMORE
I’M NOT ALONE
WHEN CHANGE CAME, IT UNVIELED A LEGION
LOOK AROUND YOU, TELL ME YOU DO NOT SEE THIS LEGION OF CHANGE AGENTS
ORDINARY PEOPLE FROM EVERY TRIBE AND EVERY CREED
FROM ALL WALKS OF LIFE
PREPARED TO SWALLOW THEIR PRIDE AND PUT ASIDE THEIR DIFFERENCES
IN ORDER TO RE-IGNITE THE FIERCE FIRE FROM DEEP WITHIN
THE TYPE THAT MAKES AN ORDINARY MAN WANNA DO EXTRAORDINARY THINGS

HOLD OUT YOUR SMARTPHONES AND TAP THE RECORD BUTTON
CONTRARY TO POPULAR OPINION, IT’S ABOUT TO BE REVOLUTIONARY
 WE ‘BOUT TO RE-WRITE HISTORY AND RESTORE A NATION THAT WAS ONCE KNOWN AS THE GIAINT IN THE SUN
WA JO MA YA BO BARO
WA JO MA YA BO BARO
COME LET US MOVE FORWARD TOGETHER
IT’S  GOING TO TAKE EVERYTHING WE’VE GOT BUT BY GOD WE’VE GOT EVERYTHING IT TAKES
AGBAJOWO NIKAN NI OLE SE O
EJEKA SO OWO PO KA LE FI IMO S’OKAN
NOW THAT CHANGE HAS COME
THIS!!!  IS WHAT I HAVE BECOME

WOME UYEYE
LOUDTHOTZ POET
© 2016

EXPLANATION OF NON-ENGLISH WORDS USED:
*Baba* is a Nigerian word used for a very elderly man.
*Falafala* is a hausa word that means ‘’in abundance’’
*Maigida* is a hausa word that means young man/Mister
*Wa jo ma ya bo baro* is an Isoko phrase  that means, ‘’come let us move forward together’’
*Agbajowo nikan ni ole se oo* is a yoruba phrase that means, ‘’ united we can make it happen’’
*Ejeka so owo po ka fi imo s’ okan* is a Yoruba phrase that means, ‘’let us pool all resources available and reason in wisdom together  in one direction as a singular unit”

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MY COUNTRY IS WITHIN

Eleanor Roosevelt once said
No one can make you feel inferior
Without your consent
Let me not sound patriotic
For patronizing the critics
Makes them fuel the fire
That brings in its wake
The Greek gift
Within the mind the truth is told
Stand tall
Walk the talk of good stewardship
For the battle is within
A trust once broken
If rebuilt
May take another generation to bridge
That plate filled with vile portions
Of racism in the name of tribalism
That have been passed down
Eat no more
I can only change the man
Looking back at me
And make him my better self
My country is within to fix
Let the light of;
Love
Humility
Consideration
Honour
Sincerity
Hope
Shine within


IFEANYI OKWOSHA
September 2016

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BEYOND BEAUTY

I whewed unto myself
I whewed unto who cares to listen
I screeched unto them
I warbled unto all

She is a beauty to behold
But beyond beauty
My dear country is suffering
She is suffering from . . . megalomania

My expected willing whee
Became my unexpected unwilling wheel
To which I wee unwillingly
At the sight of the whittle

Whence forth is my whet to Whelm
My willingness to willingly will my will
To my beauty beholding beyond beauty
My dear country is
She is . . . stealthy coquettish.



ALAYANDE STEPHEN .T
LOUDTHOTZ POET
2016

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PASS ME A BEER

What is the state of the Nation?
Can anyone give an explanation
For our current situation?

Well for today lets not  debate
On whether or not our Nation is great
Nor should there be a debate
On whether or not to celebrate
56 years ago there was elation
As we ... became one Nation
So chop cake, eat rice and drink wine
Relax…our Nation would be fine
Caterpillar and butterfly no be mate
So why all the complaints
One day the caterpillar would fly
But the process of #Change must go by
We must change scenes on Life’s stage
So put your fears in a cage
And plan for the blank page
Yes! The future is in our hands
As we continuously dance on the sands
The labour of our heroes
Shall not amount to zero
We stand at victory’s gate
Let’s celebrate
Let’s jubilate
Nigeria is great
We claim it by faith

Now pass me that beer
Cheers!!!

ERHIO (Loudthotz @Bheerhugz)

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HERE

Here,

Princes fast

Not out of veneration to God

But Privation

Faring like outcasts in Eden

Tilling rocks with iron sinews

In the fruitless toil

To grease their stomach walls,

Yet they gawk on as their hustled harvests

And God-given treasures

Vanish into ghostly pockets

Like savings in a leaking bag

 

Indigence and destitution

Devours flesh like gangrene

The scions of the basket

Are bereaved by starvation.

Everyday involuntary dances ensue

Fashioned  by melancholy’s song

When we lose another cadaver to the worms

So that Kwashiorkor and malnutrition

Can conspire on international TV

To re-mould our children

Into identical twins of HIV.

 

Knees and foreheads kiss

And caress threadbare mats endlessly

Hands flail skywards ceaselessly

Cowries and bones clatter constantly

Mumbling their own mumbo-jumbos

Deities are deliberated with daggers drawn

But all unite in supplication

Beauty for ashes, the chorus

Of our mutual, undying song.

 

AN N. AMOS.

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THE NATIONAL SIN
There is a new commander in town
And he’s written more commandments for our pleasure
Article 99,subsection 101b,
Corruption, a national sin!
Anyone found guilty:
“His name shall be written with blood ink
No monument shall be erected in his honor
His grave shall not have an epitaph
Neither should a requiem be sung on his funeral’

Our leader’s ear will tingle
When he hears we are all guilty
Of his national sin
His ear waxed blocked because
We even mentioned his name
As guilty of this among amongst several others
That we term national sin

“The man eaters
Don’t they call you brother sir?
National sin!
Cello taping together a part of the house
That wants to break away
National sin
When you engrave the descendants of the past
As the parent of the future
with national honors”
National sin!

Now declare every day a Sabbath
So that Its Lord can cleanse us both
Of our National sins.


LOLADE AJAYI

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SILHOUETTE

The day passes

And this vista don’t turn classic.

Each scene my eye catches

Strikes a loud note on my mind’s string

Whispers of familiar strangers

In consummate converse fill my chambers.

Born on the wings of resonance,

Voices inviolably- euphonious in concert

Painting pictures with wands of emotion,

Ineffable memoir for oils and colours

My head in times as pallet, my heart

Rest on God tripod for canvas.

I hear charming pictures of landscape exist

But silhouette is all I see.

Shall I liken it to the blaring of horns?

Chirping of birds or ringing of gongs.

Thou has let me no choice,

Less to think brief of this sweet vista

Whose pulchritude flirt the glorious morning sun?

How my eyes longed, yet beheld only glimpse of thy silhouette.

FABIAN MCROB UGBECHIE