POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 8 EPISODE 9 - CONSCIOUS

WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH - CHRIS N. JOHN

DOUGH – (Poem of the month)

Gbanaa gbanaa gbanaa okuko, gbanaa.
Gbanaa na egbe ga-eburu gi o
O buru na I puta n'okporo uzo.
O ga-eburu gi wee la na akwa ya.
Mmmmmm mmmmm hmmmm
Egbe e burugo
Egbe buru okukom o...
O buru na I puta n'okporo uzo, o ga-eburu gi wee la n'akwa ya.

You have sold your worth
allowed your essence to rot
You flood the land in blood
Your heart like stone only melts on liquid dough.
Like the vulture you scavenge
the carcass of blood dough
drugs dough
frauds dough
any dough
as far as it's  dough.

You haul in the catch and cause the flow to cease!
They say wealth has no master
Like a bird it spreads it's wings and flies
Do you truly believe that?

You live in moments
allow this liquid bleed in your breathe
turn your home to its alter
pollute our streets with its blood.

It is an animal farm!
No loin is the king.
Thus, you are deaf to the call...

Gbanaa gbanaa gbanaa okuko,
gbanaa
Gbanaa na egbe ga-eburu gi o
ma o buru na I puta n'okporo uzo.
O ga-eburu gi wee la na akwa ya.
Mmmmmm mmmmm hmmmm
Egbe e burugo
Egbe buru okukom o...
O buru na I puta n'okporo uzo, o ga-eburu gi wee la n'akwa ya.
 
Chris n John

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MAHOGAMY – worthy of mention poem

‘Sap’-iosexual his was for girth not wit

That bit of ‘Junk in the trunk’,

 Luscious chunk of deciduous wood,

Pulling a leaf out of a fools scalp,

   He said, “Lettuce marry.’’

“Wood you Maple take me as ‘your- lawnfully’ weeded...”

See, he seeded right...and soon

They were joined in ‘holly’ ma‘tree’mony

Tree and man before Satyr, men, and trees;

    3 ‘carrot’ ‘almond’ ring

Knots tied around girdles,

“Ouroboros”

Knitting vows on dotted lines;

‘Fern’- in embers in old logbook”

   “Together forever”,

They say, “It’s the things we do for love”

Padre says, “It’s the thing we do for log.”

But those poets think they can die for love

“Can you die for log, Padre?”

“Probably in a poem”

    Bouquet, Bouquet

Disconcerting!

Bride’s sister flung in air

Like a piece of clothing

“All you single ladies!”

Touché.

Row-mance

Life is hard in a ‘corn-dorm’    

Square ‘roots’ in round pegs

Tree, lumberjack at loggerheads

“She stepped tom-a‘toes’ ”

“Where did you po-ta‘toes’?”

“Onion” head...  ‘mush’-room there.

“If I ‘cashew.’!”

 ‘Fowl’ play

Every inch of pain nailed to this coffin

Layers of bruises concealed by lacquer finishing

Like lies foundation tries to makeup

‘Stigma’ borne in ‘style’

Padre was a ‘nut’ case

a ‘thorn’ in the ‘stem’.

 Nature’s call

Here, friends gather like dark clouds

Neither for Padre nor the tree he loved

They pay their last respect to this woman

whose body now lay motionless like a log

Why didn’t she say something?

 Why didn’t she run?

Adeoya Ajibola

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THE JUDGEMENT

How did we get here?

To this dark, ugly place; where light hides its face

How did we walk, with eyes wide shut?

Into this trap, this den of sin, our free will’s prison

And how can we still bask?

In the deadly embrace of a laden slumber,

That kills us with stealth, becomes our sleep of death

Can we not see the signs everywhere?

Collapse in family and state, Crisis that won’t abate

Aberrations in our choice of mate, global waves of unchained hate

Bloodshed and unholy wars, Incurable diseases and gaping sores

Nations amass mass-destruction weapons and armies

Nature supports with earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunamis

Our basest passions we unbridle, as materialism becomes our idol

Through fashion and folly, we desecrate even that which should be Holy

In wave upon wave, the intolerable becomes acceptable

The unimaginable becomes desirable, the blessed become abominable!

Oh! May we rise from this bad dream of a self-made reality

Consumed by horror, and if needs be, liberating sorrow

In new consciousness, desperately malcontent, genuinely penitent

Seizing courage at last to do His Will, in true humility may we kneel

That we may yet breathe the air of a new dawn

And be numbered amongst His flock on resurrection morn…

Oh Lord! Though undeserved, yet still, we pray Thee;

As Thy Holy Power overflows, please have mercy on our souls!

Amen.

Marylin

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STUPID

History has told us

Stories in time

Do we listen

Do we learn

Stupid tried to take over the world

He had forgotten that

Hitler killed himself

His smile was Paris’

Who had seen Helen

And decided the fate

Of his people

He learned to have

The acquired taste

Of eaves droppers

Who hear nothing good

About themselves

So he ordered that

we congratulate him

Because he was able

To keep his undergarments

On

He ordered that his eyes lids

Be taped to his brows

Because he didn’t want to blink

For fear of drought

He preferred to blink

When no one noticed

Yes, he was plain stupid

His stupid was not Ibe

and his canon

His stupid was Wole

And the bee hives

He was too stupid to be a man

He ordered that we hate

Soul food and art

And kick today’s happenings

To the future not the past

He lacked wisdom

He was stupid as stupid does

He spoke

With an eye for gain

He was not a fool

Unlike Courage, the cowardly

who would do better

He was stupid

His trust was

not his currency

It was money

Hence, he refused to

edit his soul

Instead of educating

His mind

Stupid has refused

To admit his loss

Though he has realised

That all he does is

For himself

I guess we must remember

From Stupid’s story

that life is spiritual

So if we blink, love,

eat and pray

We do it now.                          

Abiola Bonuola

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BELOVED 

You call me beloved 

In your deep, deep voice filled with much love 

It slides over my skin like warm chocolate 

Like satin negligee after a hot bath

Or callused hands on a lover's cheeks. 

You call me beloved 

In a way that says 

'I've missed you and I hope you can tell 

from the way I say your name, 

like rich promises influenced by the heady wine of your intoxicating presence in my heart'. 

I smile 

Widely

Because I hear all that and more. 

You call me beloved.

I hear everything that you do not say, like, 

'Do you believe me when I say I love you'? ... 'Do you miss me when I'm not with you'? ... 'Do you love me'?

You call me beloved in your deep deep voice filled with much love 

It is enough.

Joy

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CONSCIOUS

I am as a walking corpse                

A living dead moving yet static         

Music blare at high decibels in my ears 

My heartbeat vanished retarding beyond here  

For a minute i forget all my troubles

I'm creating music even                      

Better than Beethoven in heaven              

I'm living as one not aware of himself                 

Am in a world of my own detached from all              But me and myself away from my troubles

How can i write music notation on a staff with eighty lines                                                  

When all Handel used was five for the Hallelujah Chorus

How can i scrible on the staff with 26 letters A-Z     When Laz Ekwueme only uses only 7 letters A-G

I am in a world of mine                                

Aware of all things yet knowing nothing                

I am even not sure if I am a man                       

Am not sure if DENRELE is a woman                     Yet my Adam's apple is EViE's delight

- Olaolu Lawrence Ayeni

EVie- play with earliest woman Eve representing womanhood and Ivie female Nigerian name

Denrele- Nigeria entertainer dresses and acts like a woman

Beethoven one of the leading global world composer and Laz Ekwueme ( Nigeria music professor , composer and music icon)

Staff  a form of music notation using 5lines and four spaces with alphabets A-G representing musical sounds

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CONSCIOUSNESS

Once upon a Time!
Time!! Time!!!
Hmmh....

A Nation heralded as the crown among others,
A pace setter in which unity, trust and wealth abound,
Unity in diversity was the order of the day,
Providence & nature merged us together,
The joy & happiness knew no bounds when freedom was declared,
Fleeting however was such a joy....

Blades soon swings and hugs all and sundry,
Cries soon was our alarm clocks,
Feets scattered,
Lives hang like a thread,
Bullets turn to toys in the hands of children,
Slaughtering, Death owls! ... For what?

Yet lessons unlearned,
Brothers soon turn against each other,
Religious faith thrown to the dust,
Tears still fill my eyes...When
I remember the Alu 4!,
The desiccation of Ogoni land,
The Widows of Odi,
The cantoment's blast that sent many to their early graves,
The bombings in the North that soon evolved from breaking news to local news,
The comic of Daris God O! Could it appease the mothers of Chibok?
The butchering of bodies in canals,
The disapperance of brothers through Evans,
The slain ones at the hands of Badoo,
Who knows what's next?

Should the bereaved bones still cry?
Which among our dry bones tell us who was rich, powerful or poor?
The beauty of the vulture is seen as corruption ebbs our soul away,
The gallant peacock of hardwork has been subjected to penury,
As mice scrapping off letovers.


Why are we still sleeping?
Shouldn't we be awake by now?
Who taught us how to slumber?
...Our ancestors, our leaders, you, me?
The hour of judgment is upon us!
The time to be awake is "Now"!!
Where is our consciousness?

Akinyemi Akinmusire

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CONSCIOUS

It has been dark on this sunlit earth

Groping blindly with eyes open

In search for the very life ever denied

Not wanting it the way it is

But the way we want it

Being awake and eyes open is different

From being conscious of being

The pulse beat of consciousness is eternal

Like time it stands still and we rush into it

Like time we are limited within our present consciousness

Only conscious within this consciousness

We lose it beyond our limit

We may think we are conscious of this fact

We all live on borrowed consciousness

Evolving to real consciousness

It’s a journey we are in

As the wind of time blows

Nothing can be conscious in the presence of consciousness

Ifeanyi Okwosha      

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#THENORTHREMEMBERS...

Winter has come for us ALL!

Shout!

The north remembers

And the atrocities of the Good Master

Shall not be lost on The Sons of Harpy

Send a raven

To the Grandmaesters

And the *Hand of the King

Tell them, the Small Council has been infiltrated

Not just by Kingslayers

But by cowards, turncoats, traitors and sycophants

Send a raven

To the high Sparrow

And the high Septon

ASK them what is Seven blessings compare to many curses

Tell them the faith has entered into an unholy alliance with the crown

And there shall be no walk of atonement

At least, not today! Not forever!

The long night looms

Tell them, for all their acclaimed wisdom and their lofty

Many face god, the old and the new

the sacred temple sits atop a wildfire

Send a raven

To the Lord Commander

And the other Commanders

Tell them, the Nightwatch has been infiltrated

Not just by Wildlings

But by cowards, turncoats, traitors and sycophants

Send a raven

To the Archmaesters

And the other Maesters

Tell them, the Hightower has been infiltrated

Not just by Stonemen

But by cowards, turncoats, traitors and sycophants

Tell them the Wall

And the Citadel

Has crumbled and what they have is just the peripherals

And the looming darkness will be longer than they imagined

Send a raven

To all the Lords

Of the big houses

And the smaller houses

Tell them this is no war they could win

Tell them you have seen the uprising in Maiduguri, Bauchi, Potiskum and Wudil where dragons rains fire on thousands

Tell them, you have seen the Dothraki's

Cross the sea, raid, and massacres

Families in Asaba, Ogaminana, Zaria, Gamboru, Ikorodu, Aluu, Aba, Chibok, Onitsha, Jos, and Modakeke

Let them know you have seen

The havoc *wreaked by the Faith Militants

In Okene, Mubi, Yola, Gombi, Wusasa, and Sabon Gari, and Ozubulu

Tell them you were there

When the big eyes monster tell a kneeling mother 'go and die'

And the bigger monster 'don't give a damn'

Tell them, you have seen the Freys murder a mother and her five children at the black Sunday in Ikeja

Let them know you saw

The Madalla blast

Baga massacres and Herdsmen sack towns and villages in Benue and Taraba

Ask them who account

For the many unaccounted lives lost

In Slaver's bay of Buni Yadi and Gwoza

And in the fighting pits on the wake of Odi massacre

Let them know you were in the crowd

When 'constituted authority'

Constitutes a nuisance

But let them know

Their mistake, arm the youth with a 'modern raven' 

And the polity is never secure

No! Never like before! 

Tell them it is time for true representation and negotiation

Tell them, even the Iron bank negotiate

Let them know

What you saw beyond the Wall

Tell them what you saw at the battle of Blackwater

And the pogrom

And the blockage

Against the harmless

And defenseless Child of the East

Let them know

The real winners of the battle of the bastards

Tell them the Wildlings are humans too

Let them know

The Unsullied have longings too

Tell them, the foreign invaders

And the Iron born for all their wrongs

Have a fair succession plan

Tell them, Winter came for the hyenas, the jackals, the baboon, the Ponzi schemes, the ritualists, the kidnappers, and it won't spare the sycophants either!

Tell them

The three-eyed raven is back in town

And the lies and deceits of the mothers are all in the open and their daughters shall drink from their poisoned wine

The man is no one

The suffering masses are the heirs to the throne all these while. We are no slave at all!

While they scuttle for 2019

Yes, tell the mad king

And the sick king

And the gold king

And the old king

And the former king  

And the two chambers kings

And the various corner kings

The smallfolk are more than the nobility

Let them know

What happens in Meereen as in Sidi Bouzid

When the many stops fearing the few!

The undead armies of the masses are coming for them all and it would matter little whose brother, tribe or religion sits on the villa throne.

Simply tell them, it's time for 'no one' to be 'some one'.

Amami H.

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The Hypothetical Man and King Conscious.

Had Pharaoh known my King

He would not have followed Moses

Even the Capulets and the Montague

Had they known my King,

Romeo and Juliet would not have died

Said the Hypothetical Man

I walk the streets giving alms

I lend the maids helping hands

The blind see,feeling only

The shadows of my presence

Oh! King Conscious

This is my greatest dream

Mr hypothetical,was that your meditations

And I stood here like a realist

Listening to the fables of your imagination

You know Pharaoh and you know Moses

But it's clear you know not yourself

Your ancestors served me

And hailed me immortal

You should be glad

That I'm your moonlight folktale aphysical

And here you're speaking in tongues

As though you know your King

I am King Conscious

The god of peace and equity

If I may ask Mr hypothetical

Were is your conscience?

Jovita Ekene....

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LIFE IS A FAIR

life is simply,beautiful,
it gives you a hug,
makes your tears orphans,
and your sorrows widows tales,
yet,we are conscious,
of life,
its rivers strewn with yawns of
dilemmas,
life makes babies out of men,
pawns their derelict bravery,
to the gods of strife,
yet life makes you
conscious,
conscious of hidden bedlams of delight,
conscious of the purgatories of a whore,
life is a fair,
a merry go round
of jacques,
cynical maesters deriding joys,
life is a fair,
all the world is a stage,
a plethora of setting suns,
life makes you conscious
of mortalities,
of our decadent sighs,
life is a fair,
when the fairy tale ends,
our collective groans,
shall water hopes of
an eternal choral medley,
life is a fair,
be.conscious of this,
lest this farce
wakes you up.
Teddy Ugonna Richard

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CONSCIOUSNESS

 Tell the night soil-man

He stinks of your money

Convince the honey bee

That the golden-black drop

Isn't just sweet shit

Its all a matter of the consciousness

Self-deceit is a shallow dream

Deep dreams are reserved for gods

Idle men are those without dreams

Getting by faking their consciousness

This is an ode to the heroes of faith

Never losing consciousness

Even in unconsciousness

Those who rise above mortal dreams

Sailing above obstacles into godly reality

Only when faced by challenging concussion

Do we really become conscious

Awakened to life's reality

Yet reality is just a dream

And its interpretation is a matter of our consciousness 

Tell the night soil-man

He stinks of your money

Convince the honey bee

That the golden-black drop

Isn't just sweet shit

Its all a matter of the consciousness

Self-deceit is a shallow dream

Deep dreams are reserved for gods

Idle men are those without dreams

Getting by faking their consciousness

This is an ode to the heroes of faith

Never losing consciousness

Even in unconsciousness

Those who rise above mortal dreams

Sailing above obstacles into godly reality

Only when faced by challenging concussion

Do we really become conscious

Awakened to life's reality

Yet reality is just a dream

And its interpretation is a matter of our consciousness 

Olamide Santos

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FEAR OF UNKNOWN

What all men fear is indeed to be feared.

Wide is the range of questions.

Multitude feels listless among multitude of men

Like an infant which has not yet smiled

Desires like blink of light

Chaos!

The emptiness of vessels is unfilled

Cavour and Disgrace

We look and we do not see

Who can make the muddy water clear?

The State of Emergency

The Rulers are not helping

When harmony no longer prevailed

It discards our Wisdom

It result back to nothing

Patience and Hope is the mastery of fear

In the heart of your patience

Peace like a river is discovered

Satisfaction blossom

The end of it all is vanity.

FLORENCE

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DARK SHADES OF WHITE: “HOW TO DIE”

Lie straight on your bed.
Don't move, you don't want disturbances.
Not even the gentlest of its kind.
Ensure the bed was made properly and dusted gratuitously.
You don't want any sand genre of any sort piercing your skin.
Discomfort is what you detest the most at this point.

You need concentration of the highest order,

the type people develop when they are about to die.

Close your eyes.
Shut them tight not to allow the passage of light.
Not even the bleakest of its kind. The rays, its particles of brightness even.
Light would distract the process, and you don't want that.
You want it dark and blind.
You want absence.
Nothingness.
You want life to be out of sight.

Take a deep breath,                                                                                                                                                  gently, you are not in a haste
like those you are advised to take when fighting heart attack.
I must remind you, you want your mind to be at rest.
In you go, enjoy the taste of the crisp cold air,
and out it comes, bringing out all the cowardice in you.
At this point you should be feeling better,
adequately prepared.
Situated and unsaturated.
Pause...

Take a while, take your time
think a little, you don't want your memory to feel betrayed.
You lived a life worth mentioning.
Don't let shame deceive you, it's jealous.
Please don't forget the aim,
don't be carried away,
avoid the rumbles in your head.
Tales of the first time you met Amina,
how you admired Ada
or how you beat up Obi all because of Aisha.
Or that you stole meat once, twice or even uncountable number of times...
Let it all go, offer them all up.

Now you are ready.
With everything in place, you are good to go.
Allow yourself to drift quietly and slowly into it.
Silently drift into slumber until you are sure you can't return.
Remain there, don’t move,

don't force yourself out, it would hurt if you try.
Don't forget you gave all already.
He smiled as he consciously exhaled his last breath.
And then, he died conscious.

Panel

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TOMORROW
Tick tick went the clock
At the end of a tunnel is joy
The silver spoon isn't Roy
Man becomes a boy

Mum could see between the lines
Even dad when he dined
Universal it seemed to be
Cause cute Chris came

When I say
It was just yesterday
It becomes a game
I had to play

Tua! I spat
Such a disgusting trip
 I almost tripped
 couldn't take a grip

But I dropped them
Those cards when
I wished, so I claim
When cute Chris came
Always will I be lame
Forever a boy!

_Tobi Best

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PROMENADE IN THE TIMELINES OF LIFE

I battle, time and time again my thoughts to conquer.

In the dim of light, in the presence of night

I promenade with plenty accompany but stillness and time

Through the length and realms of a stage that fled watchful eyes

Like a reciter for a recital, I rehearse each line, my lines to master

Expressions and impressions I mutate to aptly deliver

And characters shy and bold to set in passionate drama.

Over and over again I have gathered

Costumes of variant designs, beauty and Chroma

Of Colonies, towns, countries and regions, near and afar

I have seen fabrics and prints, tough and frail, rough and ballast

From cultures and whiles, of yester-years, now and that called after

Each leaving me knowledge for now or the later to garner

Craftily pieced or angrily scattered, all must be prudently pampered.

I am handed a script,

Be it a forgotten plea or a benevolent gift,

I gladly receive, every character carefully etched on leaf to rightly interpret

This day, I stand astage, before myriads of gaze

Before men and women with cheerful praise

Before stares that wait that it go pear –shaped

I stand alone, on this podium, the focus of a million light rays

I stand alone, my mastery to display!

                                                           

Fabian  Mcrob Ugbechie

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