POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 8 EPISODE 11 RAISED

WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH TEDDY

RAISED, AN ATILA –(poem of the month)

Boys will be born,
They will become fathers of men,
Boys will be raised,
Look at life,
Its bitter sweet,
It causes you to cry rivers,
Ploughed by misfits,
That's my cross,
You sent an emissary,
That fought death's stare,
That eroded my joy,
And sent me into derisions
Of angsts fit for a shrew,
I gave you a boy,
I raised you a mean shadow
Of you,
You Left me adrift ,
On an island of puritans,
Who slew my chasteness,
I raised you a boy,
And I curse that day,
When my watershed broke,
And,pain's embrace soothed me,
There's no balm for your misery,
I raised you a boy,
I raised an Atila,
Who will become my death,
My recompense
For a vaginal attrition,
Yes,i raised a horror.
A golgotha for those pityful Heathens,
I raised,.
Nero.
Let eternity deny me purgatories
of delight.

Teddy Ugonna

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ANONYMOUS.

On this human body I can see INDELIGEBLE scars and LEGIBLE MARKS a STARK REMARK of a past preferred to be hidden left in the DARK. And yet your behaviour can not help but ignite a SPARK.

Suddenly the past becomes present brought into the light. It is funny how mannerisms can create a sense of hindsight, RETROSPECT. It is not hard to see that you often REFLECT, deep in your thoughts where you INTROSPECT. I cannot help but DETECT a feeling of long term NEGLECT.

Yet this ASPECT of your life is only part of the STORY, for by the way you immaculately dress reflects shades of former GLORY, years where stress was faint and not signs of trauma  or WORRY. Now I see those scars and behaviour were only an ALLEGORY used to tell your FABLE and despite it all you remain strong far from FEEBLE. Quick and witty you’re perpetually NIMBLE. I hope thorough this poem I could stich your scars with my empathetic needle, sympathetic thread and protective THIMBLE.

This is because you are a SYMNBOL for TENASITY despite the events that transpired which almost drove you into INSANITY. A condition you always evaded with Flash like ALACRTITY and Wonder Woman’s AGILITY. Both coupled together by a show of equestrienne like DEXTERITY. I truly admire your SINCERITY for it gave me the ABILITY to write this poem and through it I hope to depict a brief chronology of your REALITY like the Aztecs did on a TOTEM. Similarly, poetry is my documentary SYSTEM.

Yes your name I have chosen to remain hidden, kept ANONYMOUS but the same cannot be said for your bravery which can only be described as TREMENDOUS. And after reading this poem all shall agree so I guess it is UNANIMOUS. Simple by nature you are not one to use big words and sound AMBIGOUS. Ever striving to be better, you are simply TENATIOUS. The world could learn from you and stop being too self-CONCIOUS, people leading false lives too PRETENICOUS.

Chukwuemeka Anyiam-Osigwe.aka Cmex D Poet

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ARẸWÀ ÓMÍDÁN…

How come we did not meet years ago?

When man's heart is pure and unencumbered

With bittersweet and sour experiences of life and love

If only we have met when we both have a clean slate

How come we succumbed

To the negatives of our pasts

When the future is so positive

Though with blur present

How come the very challenges

that should nurture and build us

Seems to tear us apart

The signs were there and positive

We felt it! Everyone confirmed it!

How come we let lies and deceit crept in?

How come the things we did not say

Weigh more than the things we said

And our deed betrays our utterances

Now the memory of our smiles

And good moments hurt

in the light of discoveries

and recent happenings

Even with shared dreams

And aspirations

How come the things we both want is filled with all the things we don’t want?

Ours was a natural connection

That everyone loved

Did nature deceive?

by drawing us together only to throw us farther apart?

Or we betrayed nature by altering the path set out for us?

What would you have me do?

I had plans, I took you to Mother and

Showed you my ancestral home and everyone dear to me

And everyone welcomed and loved you

What would you have me do?

When you broke my trust and repeatedly lied to my face

Even when caught red-handed, your response was

‘ko ri be se ro’

When you eventually confessed

It was my fault “I trusted too much”

“barely show it” and get “angry too easily”

How should I have ro?

When the married Engr.

You told me was ‘Aburo mummy mi’

Was actually your lover

How should I have ro?

When the Oregun Church vigils

Was actually a multiple night stand

With your former co-worker, you told me was

‘Omo aburo mummy mi’

How should I have ro?

When you told the very same person

Now your lover, I am your brother

And continue to lie about ‘lappy’

We both know

My sin is not that I lied

It is that I help the truth when I should have lied

It is that I swing my hand to your face

When I should have walked. This I regret!

I know I would not have the chance

To tell the Debo’s of this world the truth, No!

Not when you had her lied uncomfortably to my face

I know the Aunty Olaitan’s of this world

Like Ebetile, Rooney and Sister Taiwo

Would only get different version of ‘your truth’

If your various version

Is the truth and this is the end

How come everyone felt mystified and betrayed by us?

It’s because I accede to them all!

Such is the magnitude of the love and respect

I have for you.

No one, not even mother

Should think lowly of you on my account

My heart forgives

I trust yours heal and forgive one day

I just hope it won’t be too

late for me to raise and love again.

Amami H.

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EGO EREXIT

' came to earth

awaken every dawn

by the rumbling roar of sunrise

life previsions denied

yet my legs keep laughing

my eyes keep looting off,

every nature's beauty,

it could behold

even my hands delite,

'cause it has learned

to bake a poetry pie

upon this stage infinitum

I know,

I'm not much of a sorcerer

but I conjured Love,

and it defeated Hate

enchanted Pardon to slay Injury,

sacrificed the demi-darkness,

that it may never find its way

back to Light

I reckon

never been much of a Talker

much of a Baker

but knowing,

there's more beyond

who I am

what I have

what I can

I am raised.

Jovita...

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RAISE

Is that your mission?, Were you given the permission?

At your birth the cloud darkened, the moon turned red, the night so cold,

Great dust Raised amidst the heavy rain.

Only to Raise you, your father’s treasure gone, mother’s pain unending,

Sorrows dine with sufferings, surrounded with afflictions, perils, wails, starvation, Maltreatments.

Just because you were raised, your mates you wiped out, seniors around,

You push in abyss of oblivion, without any opinion, making yourself unequal.

Tribalistic you are, critics and press you ignore, what they labeled you;

Martinet, Autocrat, Dictator, Despot, Oppressor, dead conscience you have,

Every good policy aside you wave.

The order of the day is Blood Shed, let it gush and you are gratified, like

Hitler hitting hard in the heat, law of karma awaits you, your shadow is after you.

It now dawn on you, four corners of earth you sought for solution, yet no way,

You must face the dance, illness struck in retaliation, coma warming up to take over, death await patiently to issue certificate.

U.C. Tonie

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‘WHAT YET IS TO BE RAISED’

From the very beginning of the cosmos,

We have raised hopes in heroes,

In tales, stories, legends, folklores, and in reality…

Who really were our heroes who had risen?

Did their giant strides really brought relief?

Do the tales of their rise still linger in our memories?

Even stories of legends rising still leaves questions unanswered..

Would you rather not be Romeo if Juliet had to die?

Why did the love raised in Titanic drown?

Has beauty yet found her beast in a tale as old as time?

Why should Cinderella need a glass slipper to impress the Prince?

Why should snow-white continually prick her fingers against a needle?

Why hasn’t Tom stop chasing Jerry?

What made the ring so powerful that it needed a Lord?

Aren’t the webs of spider making Peter look younger?

Would you want to serve Superman a dish of Krypton?

What yet is to be raised?…

Let’s go down memory lane…

We know iron melted when it met Thatcher,

But where is the Kingdom Churchill fought to unite?

Despite the heroics of Mandela in the south, hatred still permeates,

Did Abraham stop slavery yet for racism to be a thorn in our flesh?

The unofficial father of the nation Gandhi in his great acts of valor and patriotism,

Slept in death thru the cruel hands of hatred.

Did history not teach us a lesson with Hitler?

Aren’t we seeing another rising in the North?

Sadam left for Osama to continue from where he stopped,

Yet even that vanquish hasn’t stop the rise of terror.

Can we forget the 11^th day of September?

What yet is to be raised?...

We remember the 1^st of October,

We hail our heroes, who had risen,

The Zik, Awo, Tafawa, Ironsi, Gowon, Murtala, OBJ,…

But did they stop the Civil war from rising?

The bloodless and bloody coups linger as villains in our minds

Militancy excelled in the South,

Yet for Boko to rise with bombings in the North,

Still there exists hot vinegar brewing in the East,

Who knows what would be raised again in the West?

We raise guns to achieve peace,

The same guns we use to destroy peace,

Had Einstein known, he might not have unlocked atom…

May be bombs will never exists,

I still wonder whether Armstrong really put us on the moon,

As we raise time and time again different summits for the weather,

All hail! The Father of America Benjamin for independence he fought,

Still unity and harmony has been lost…

What yet is to be raised?...

From amalgamation to assassination,

Beautification to brutalization,

Colonization to civilization,

Dedication to desecration,

Elections to explosions,

Federation to fragmentation,

Inaction to inflation,

Legislation to litigation,

Motivation to mutilation,

Secession to succession,

Population to pollution,

Resolution to revolution,

Veneration to vexation

What yet is to be raised?...

We’ve raised hospitals, clinics, medical centers,..

To attend to our sickly needs,

Has variant flavors of diseases slowly ebbs us away,

If it’s not Measles it is Diabetes,

Cholera or diarrhea,

Malaria or Ebola,

Sars or Aids,

Even the poxes box us to death

We’ve institute institutions….

Religious institutions

Social institutions

Educational institutions

Political institutions

Economical Institutions

Even that raised has instituted more problems than solutions.

What yet is to be raised?...

Asapen

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RAISED 

I am a little poor child seeking eternal destruction

The pleasures of life is mine for the taking

Who can stop me except me

Who can make me not go on

I am a serial womanizer seeking some more

My eyes runs faster than my brain

My thoughts even faster than my feet

Its a virtual world of ecstacy and fantasy

Just a look at him and I could strangle him

Who does he think he is

One big fool so full of himself

He thinks he can rule my world

So he thinks he can stop me

So he thinks he can make me not go on

The floor is not for me

The abyss deep below seems more like it

Whoever says the higher you go the cooler it becomes

Has not been down here below where there is real life.

For deep below the seas is where more life is

Down to depths measured in Fathoms I cannot fathom

Its nice down here

Let the holy ones enjoy up there

Am free here to enjoy all my vice

Not even the dice can stop me from hitting thrillions

Life is like a never ending Casino

The more you look ...the less you see

                                                                                                                                                                          Who will lift me up from this world of sin?

Who will carry me from this world of shame?

Nobody dare for we are not alone

Only a battalion can defeat a battalion

I will continue in my world

TIll.. till.. till... till.......GBOWA......

What was that!

I see beautiful ladies with wings

Flying so high singing so nice

I love the party there : hugs, smile, music

and the winebibber is even there turning water to wine

Ah! I must join this feast

No need for oil in my lamp

Now MY lamps are lit with oxygen from the air

Even my eyes is brighter than all the light

I must gatecrash in this feasting:

''am on the GODWAY now , not on the broadway''.

Olaolu Ayeni

(lastline from: song by Luyeni - Olaolu Ayeni)

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BLACK HOPE RISING 

Gazing into the crystal ball
He saw her standing proud and tall

She had seen it all

The rise and fall
Her firm chin
Rich brown skin
Flowing green gown
Black hair cascading down
Standing in all her glory
But she was angry
He saw rising turmoil
As her blood began to boil
One by one
Her offsprings began to run

Greedy daughters and sons
She threw away the basket of praise
The poison on which they had grazed
She burnt the golden calf
Tearing everything in half
She started the fight
The time was just right

Somewhere between day and night

She took away their sight

their fake might

and served them bowls of silence

Without a whiff of violence
Who are they to empty her plate
Then decide her fate
No longer foolish and young
She became rich and strong
As she sang her new song
Victory was spun
He was dazed
Amazed

He saw the beginning of a new phase
and he watched as she was raised!

Erhio

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UNTOUCHED                                                                                        

With an artless soul

and uncouth eyes

but with guarded notions

I learnt not to thrill in the aftermath of a grand shower

With untrained sense

and vulnerable soul

but with restrained whims

I learnt not to elate in the radiance of a sunny day

With plain imagination

and bland savour

but untold disturbance

I learnt to endure the chilling hands of a merry season

Seasons happen to all

and clock ticks for all

but not to me

I would rather hole up, aestivating or slumbering through seasons of life 

 ADEBOLA SAMUEL

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REJECTION FEE

Sometimes it takes four months and three hours before noon
to get offered a rejection fee,
a fee to have you quit dreaming,
a price to bury your passion,
a stipend for your honour.

You feel disappointed, but that's a good thing.
The hunger in the disappointed's eyes knows nothing of shame,
at least not in this city where the belly must be fed,
even if only with the honey spurn in the skull of the desecrated..

Yes, you too will feed from these skulls,
the craniums hung on poles,
poles used to mark  boundaries,
boundaries between the living and the dead;
here there are no standing spots for the living-dead,
you are either hot or cold, no god here to spew you from his mouth.

They say those who answer missed calls shall be lost in a flash,
but you are not afraid of mutation
you are not afraid to look back
if it is the only way forward.
You let your words take actions,
forge verbs into machetes
to clear your future of its macro stench and venality.

You use their rejection fee
to buy yourself an  acceptance,
life is a citadel that offers no degree,
you graduate only to matriculated again,
now they hear you mutter this refrain:
"I was raised by a woman who sits like a man".

Soonest Nathaniel 

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BIRDS

All birds have wings

But not all can fly.

Some birds would never sing

No matter how hard they try

The day a child learns to control his tongue,

Is the day he learns to speak

But even the dumb has a tongue and wishes to sing his song

The troubles of the mind sometimes makes the eyes go weak

The bat has eyes but are always closed

Never ask the hell-keeper why he sweats a lot

Even the king's feet sometimes get cold

And the hot sun too sometimes gets hurt

Life tell tales of truth with lies

Even with our wings we sometimes fail to fly

Though we can’t keep from falling

Our faulty wings never keeps us from rising

AJIJOLA HABEEB

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RE:WORD

The lion doesn’t dog its prey

It stalks and pounces

The wolf pack of six

Is not the same as a six pack wolf

Nothing is achieved without risk

To be the head of the pack

One must think outside the park

Raised to praise

I kill with words

Alphabets become swords

But they say I’m deep

Only if they knew I drown everyday

Witty wordplays and puns

Have made me an abusive god

If I raised my dead

How long will they live

Before I kill them again?

I resurrect my dead art

Pumping life into my heart

But failing I plagiarize myself

To keep up appearance

Stars stay sky high

I want to be deep

A deep star

Can I have both

I want it deep

I want to be a star

I become nothing

Olamide Santos

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A NEW BEGINNING

From the ashes

A new madness

Dawn of a new frontier

The cutting edge of insanity 

One that test our common sense

Let the rave continue

We may one day believe

That a man will father a son before his father

And spend a life time to study the possibility

Let’s find a new name for stupidity

And celebrate it

Taboos of yesterday

Are now rights

In the name of liberty

This tunnel is dark only if you look back

One day this cold winter will be over

Ushering in the spring of a new beginning

Ifeanyi Okwosha             

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RAISED

We were raised with our heads bowed

Our shoulders bowed with the weight of poverty

We were bred on the arms of mediocrity

We were kneaded like dough for the oven

And dough we were, see now we rise.

We rise from the heat of negative words

Flung on our souls

Raised above great potentials of sadness

We now go through the road laid by hope

Go past hopelessness on the side road where it lay

Raised our heads high by the strength of faith

And dare fate to put us down again

CHISOM

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RAISED

Raising the lid
Blasting the glass ceiling
Given a hand up
Not a handout
Giving a leg up
without legovers
Not used as a leftover
Or raised as an after thought
No quota system in place
Or reverse discrimination practiced with a veneer of civility and fairness.
Neither algebra nor calculus raising people and integers to the power of infinity.
Not given to mental flight but engaged in mental fight to raise the bar of human attainment.
Referencing frankl who in the cesspit raised himself to an elevation of meditation and imagination by the power and quality of his thinking.
Logo therapy came out of that.
A branch of knowledge raised literally from the pits.
Raising the limit of human attainment.
The one minute mile
Climbing mount Everest
and raising political questions like was Hilary first or was it the Sherpa Tensing Norgay?
Bolting below 9.5 but for showboating and the exuberance of youth.
A picture that still haunts me.
Raising hell
Raising salaries from minimum to medium
Raising the water level of the spirit's activity
Raising the dead and the ultimate resurrection!

Raising the dead by imbibing the blue for engagement in sacred delight.

Raising Cain after the murder of Abel

Raising the dead by speaking of life

Turning on the light

Jacking up the sound

Absorbing corruption by right focus

Fixating on probity and integrity

Like leaders attending their swearing-in in white cotton, attesting rightness

Raised to stand for something and not fall for anything.

Injecting life into the moribund not now by way of blue pills but by blue flashes of power in all it's manifestations.

Solar, nuclear, wind, water, clean, dirty!

Raised out of the doldrums of darkness

Into an endless tunnel where by hope we look for a light to end it!

ANDREW WHYTE

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