ANTICIPATE A NIGHT’S
JOY
On this day,I weave the tale
Of a day’s pilgrimage;
Of misfits in suits,
With garlands for breakfast,
Hungry dreams yawning at the
noon’s
dawn,
Their truncheons, scars of pride,
With shoes that have greeted
king’s courts,
Their solemn gentility, a
wonderful blight
Of passage,
They anticipate the elixir of
their broken arrows,
They anticipate the Argonaut’s
fleece,
They anticipate a myriad of
Hercules’s trials,
Atlas would envy their
meanderings,
These miscreants with haughty antonyms,
Will regale you with their Nile’s
plight,
They weave Judas fingers in their
Golgotha’s mane,
And plead mother Teresa’s
platitudes
For a whiff of bread,
They anticipate in this eon,
A bygone dying future’s tears,
When a misfit reigned in a
tyrant’s cubicle,
Serenaded by nature’s false
breath,
This is my tale,
But only the coward
Will survive in this absurd
theater
Of anticipation,
Where Eros’ epistle to fate,
denies a benign ending.
Yet,life must continue.
With its untamed treason,
When we finally anticipate the
Night’s joy.
TEDDY
UGONNA RICHARD
//////////////////////////////////
HOPE
ON THE HORIZON
The cloudy sky roars in
silent
The pregnant dawn, dusk a
still-born
But still a born
The bed I lay with a burdened
heart
For I toiled
All day
All night
And caught a drought
But still a catch
Morrow I rise with weaken
toes
To dare the Lagos bees but
with a leap
By noon, I bid the storehouse
For more hands
For I caught a draught
With whispers of sweat on the
horizon.
-AMAMI
H.
////////////////////
WAITING
Awakening to this harmattan
breeze
My heart froze
At the gloom that hung above
the city
Mixed with the early morning
sun
To say it is pollution of
sorts remains to be proven
Sooty smoke enveloping every
where
A few folks elope in fear of
an impending doom
Us
We wait
Hanging on to the strands of
hope left in us
Babatunde advocated the
planting of trees then
Only but a few took the
matter to heart
Others said trees would not
feed them
So they turned the other ear
Here I am
One of them I must been
Was I?
Do you know of the one
Who is currently saying our
city has been bastardized?
Restructure he prays
How he will do it
Without a structure we wonder
The feeding pattern has been
101 for most
A bigger lot on 001
A rare few, are on 0-0-0
Looking for something to prey
on
With prayers
Our wastes are reducing
For quite an age this has
been
We lament and blame
We wait
We wait on hope
Baba is so weak
Yet, he is walking us to
green lands
Even as many are lagoon bound
In search of greener pastures
I wonder
If those pastures are green
anymore
Yes, the roads are clean
The power is constant
That there is security
I will say, I doubt
The idea of slavery is one I
dread
So I take to pen to paper
And pour my mind
I wait on oguro and push my thoughts to friends
Assuring myself that the wait
will pay
Time is flying
Age is running
I think it is paying
The lands are getting green
How green it will get
I wait to know.
ILUPEJU
ADEBAYO
/////////////////////////////////////////
EMELDA
Emelda's
positive vibe
Is contagiously
high
She believes in
building castles in the sky
She can cover
yam and expect it to ripen
Like a camel
expecting the eye of a needle to widen
Emelda's
thoughts run their own course
For every
disappointment she has a new horse
Her
anticipations
Stand on
different foundations
Her hope is
immune
To negative
tunes
Her hope is
immortal
Wired to an
infinite number of portals
Emelda sees the
good side of everything
She can explain
why a bee should sting
Why a loved one
must die
Even why our
Eagles must lie
Walahi
You can't beat
her level of vibration
Her brain cells
form an unknown constellation
Is she in
denial?
Will she one
day switch dials?
I hope not
It'll be hard
to see Emelda tied up in knots
Let her
continue to spread her positive energy
Like a Hope
filled dispensary
We need her
positivity
To drown out
the rampant negativity
We need more
hope
To level the
depressional slope
Emelda is a
case
But she's in a
good place
Running her own
race
With a smile on
her face
Ready to dance
in the rain
Its a bit hard
to explain
The picture
will be complete
If one day you
meet
Emelda!
ERHIO OBODO
////////////////////////////////////
THE SUN NEVER RISES
The breath of living fire
The life elixir of its neighbours
Whose warm embrace envelops
Never rises
Your warm cheerful countenance
Is ever too bright to look upon constantly
No wonder your neighbours
Dance around you and warm their cold bodies
Because of you there is life
We eat a part of your essence in every bite
Now we laugh when we remember
That wise men once said our home away from home was flat
In the future we will laugh harder
When we remember
That this elixir giving orb
That our home dances around to stay alive
Rises and sets for us
On this journey of self discovery
We will discover our place
In the constellation of real life
Like the sun
Life will always be fair
It depends on us how we fare
IFEANYI OKWOSHA
////////////////////////////
THIS
IS WHAT I WROTE WHEN I MEDITATED ON LEAVING.
metaphors are
beautiful things.
metaphors are
beautiful, dangerous things.
metaphors are
beautiful, dangerous, deceitful things.
it thrilled you
when they said your love was the sun:
shy at first,
soft, then fierce, a showpiece, an exhibition.
but you know
suns don't only rise, right?
they set, too.
and burn.
moral lesson:
*shrugs*
we broke the
same way we came together:
in slices, like
the moon.
and our coming
together... ayiii...
you fell for a
girl who once loved a sailor, then lost her heart to the sea;
i loved a man
who cried.
you fell for a
girl who was the shape of water;
i loved a man
who thought he knew how to hold sand.
you fell for a
girl who was in pieces and fragments;
i loved a man
who loved brokenness a little too much.
you fell for a
girl who was a towering edifice with a foundation of sand;
i loved a man
who desired to be God: grind my broken pieces to dust and remold me in his own
image.
this is how you
fall in love:
digital
forehead kisses and long electronic hugs;
conversations
after 10pm till after 1am about what God smells like:
a freshly
bathed baby,
freshly cut
grass in rainy season.
this is how you
come undone:
one lover
leaves without a word;
another calls
to politely inform you that they have chosen another.
you had hoped...
this is how you
move on:
first, you have
to decide:
do you want to
live without them,
or would you
rather die?
if you decide
to live, darling,
begin by
folding yourself into yourself so you can see everything, feel everything,
remember everything.
and remember,
honey,
closed doors
are not always locked.
closure is
overrated.
civility is
not.
i can be civil.
nice. polite.
smile. send smile emojis.
even though i
want to scream and break things and drink myself blind and weep and remember
and rinse and repeat.
'be not drunk
with wine, wherein is excess'.
forgive me,
father,
for i have
sinned.
for my pain, i
drink wine in excess and break bread till it's in useless crumbs.
i lie in bed,
trying to write myself into amnesia to forget someone who shouldn't have
come at all.
i broke into a
song of lamentation when my lovers said 'I love you'.
I think
everybody is beach sand
so i love by
letting go,
by holding on
as lightly as possible.
for those who
hold on to me, i'm thankful.
leaving makes
you shrink,
that's why i
wrote this meditation in only small letters.
it reminds you
that you are also soft,
breakable.
now, leaving is
not always a bad thing,
but it is
almost always painful.
and you think
you're fine,
but a word, a
laugh, a question, a colour flings you back into memories buried just beneath
your tongue,
memories lining
the walls of your oesophagus.
in those
moments, probe your pain,
investigate
your heart.
in those
moments,
cup your own
cheeks,
caress the back
of your own neck,
lay your own
hands on your own forehead,
bless yourself.
look in the
mirror.
take note of
the sparkle in your eyes,
a reminder that
you are everything bright from within
and the
darkness did not consume you after all.
JOY
CHIME
/////////////////////////////
FOKANSI
Having an
uneasy rest on the ancient long Aganrandi
Carved from a
century old king of the forest, Iroko oluwere
Its brown scaly
and shiny mass narrates a tale of forbearance
The hinges are
symbols of tolerance
Waiting in hope
for the fruition of promises made.
Every squeak in
its silent glide resonates the symphonic cacophony of an age long dirge
The same that
was rendered as an elegy in an endless past.
Wo, wa gbo itan
mi!
Come and hear
my story
It is the story
of a great people
Full of life
and Love, hope and Happiness
Itan igbe aye
rere ni
Yes, it was a
story of good life.
In the rising
cloud of dust they rode in
Creating a
smokescreen that was passed on to us by our fathers
Arriving in a
horse-cade of Appaloosa, Clydesdale, Akhal-Teke
The most priced
Arabian and Andalusian horses they possessed
Clothed away in
their regal wears were the details of their skin, but their PRIDE exposed
Beeni, otito
ni, Ola ni won fi b’oju
Iyi ni won fi
se ewu wo.
Swathed in
their affluent attires with their faces dodged from the rays of the sun
They greeted
and paid obeisance at the feet of our fathers, yes, babanla baba wa
Yet, their palm
lines were alien to them
Their faces
were ducked away from the daylight
But their
phallic glory became the hawkers’ ditty
They swore by
their identity, their children, their faces and wealth…uhmmmm
All of these
were unknown to our fathers.
In galant
strides they return in seasons with much wealth and strength,
Telling the
tales of hope our fathers heard,
Hoping for the
hopes of the years gone.
O ma se o!
Listen to my
wisdom
Listen to the
words of the ancient
Listen to my
squeak
Eni ti yio fun
ni lewu wo, t’orun re laawo
When you are
promised a clad of Royal Regalia by one whose palms can barely cover his
manhood
Anticipate, but
look away in opposite direction.
Anti Shipe,
please open the barricade and let me go.
TUNJI RALPHAEL
////////////////////////////
ANTICIPATE
Who else will suffer us?
Is it not the devourers
of death?
The one who comes dark
clothing’s
Just to entice us with
bad conflicts
There to behold our
innermost joy
Without a gift to
inherit from
Who else will blame us?
Is it not mortal men of
threats?
The one who has no shame
in them
Only for the worldly
gain and
For the benefit of their
exhibition
Without a promise of
prevention
Who else will afflict
us?
Is it not witches of
calamities?
The one who comes from a
dark coven
Just in our world of
uncertainties
There to fulfill the
scripture of love
Without a fervent
commitment
Who else will curse us?
Is not our wicked
ancestors?
The one who promised us
heaven on earth
Professing the integrity
of inheritance
To the best in line of
prosperity
There to cover the shame
of debt
Without leaving a
footstool
Who else will frustrate
us?
Is not the wicked
government
The one who comes with
empty promises
Giving us an entitlement
of no goodness
To enslave us with
unwanted suffering
There to capture your
ignorance
Without helping our
situation
Anticipate your vote now
UBONGABASI
EKPO
///////////////////////////////////
AUNT
T’S PLACE
Aunties place is where I go
to escape my realities
Meditating in her serendipity
She told me anything is
possible
She would say
Child only the dead would say
Life isn’t beautiful
Time is beautiful
She told me if I cross my
eyes I’d have more Ts
Whatever than means
That Rainbows can have
shadows
If I dream with all my hearts
That a moth can become a
butterfly if it believes
And God speaks in the soft
gentle breeze
Listen
Be patient, don’t be a six legged
fawn
Do not dance to the tune of
the storm
She will wear you out like odi the donkey
Anticipate tomorrow’s move
but use today wisely
Don’t be eager to sacrifice
your queen
Stalemate happens when kings
get lonely
Time is a gift, trade her
well
Aunty T has taught me many
lessons
I am reminded of them when
her second-hand clock
Strikes twelve
And like Peter after the
third crowing cock
I come to my senses.
Inspired to express, express
expressions
Time is the best teacher
Time is a healer
Is it my time yet?
OLAMIDE
‘LARIOSTYLZ’ SANTOS
///////////////////////////////
THE MOUNT OF EVEREST
I stood upon
the craggy top of the Everest
Smiling rainbow
from the mount
Beneath the
rays of the golden sun
Light lines
between the trees and flowers
Where birds speak
to each other in rhythm..
Looking to the
skies from this top
I sing in
coaxing diminuendo of the piano
Voices filled
with satisfaction
To which noble
heart aspires..
Reaching for
the heavens
A million
sparkling stars
Which was
written in the colours of love
I found them
yesterday
On the top of
the Everest
I gasped as the
splendor held my gaze..
The heart
throbbing between the upland and the peak
I staked to win
the soul of love on the mountain top
I will pitch my
tent in the heart of love this very moment
On the craggy
top of the Everest
Thoughts of
love still haunt my soul
From the far
away world beyond
I will live
I will live
again for love...
SAMMIE JEFFREY
////////////////////////////////////////
ON DELVING INTO THE TREASURY TO DIG UP THE MEANING OF
ANTICIPATE!
Probable
To expect or
predict
Anticipating
scorn on her return to wherever she began from.
Foresee
Predict
Even think, as
hard as that is for many, if not most people.
Likely
Forecast
Prophesy
Foretell
Contemplate and
anticipate the nuclear option in the face of anticipated failure
The police did
not anticipate any trouble.
They never do
That is why
they are firemen rather than policemen
Taking a
kneejerk fire brigade approach to all our challenges
Anticipating
theories on mimicry and all sorts of protective colorations
Foreshadow
Precede
Antedate
Writing plays
for all women casts to anticipate the cinematic work of these random characters
we are referencing in order to garnish the 'A' word.
Anticipate-
imagine or expect that something will happen
Refusing as a
matter of psychological astuteness to anticipate or acknowledge trouble
The dog
anticipates though lacking the human vocabulary to enunciate
Anticipates the
bone to suck, the next walk to stretch and the squirrel to chase.
Anticipate by
previewing yourself; showing a less than omniscient prescience; predefining
your course and your cause!
To live in the
living hope that the thing you live and hope for will happen for you; to you in
the way in which you hoped for it
That is to
anticipate!
To start with
the end in mind
To count your
alpha and beta's
Taking care of
the in- betweens
and the b to
y's that indeed is to anticipate
To participate
in grand, exalted discourse about a truly universal order devoid of corruption
and failure is to anticipate and partake in the frustration of confusion.
Deferred hope
leads to heart failure
Anticipated
success gives hope of preferment
As is written
for us in the volume of the books of remembrance
To anticipate
is to remember, restate and rephrase
It is to live
in the good and totally sanitize the bad that might have been spoken about us!
ANDREW
WHYTE
//////////////////////////////////////
THE TORTOISE'S MIGRATION
The journey or
a thousand miles dear friend begins with a step
But to leave
footprints on the sands of time you must have taken more steps than one
At a point You
must have run
Slowed down to
a crawl
Thought more
times than once about circling back to the starting point
Doubted
yourself to the extent that you put a magnifying glass over your head under the
glare of the sun
And watch your
emotions burn
On this journey
of self discovery
You would've
become a desert
A naked
wilderness
Lost and all
alone
Your Will to
live all but gone
And yet you'd
decide to walk some more
in this desert
of your self
Dark clouds
would hang over your eyes
while you hope
that The heavens pour
As you battle
to quench the thirst of your soul.
You'd need to
have your eyes trained like wise men upon that star
But soon you'd
meet Samaritans on the way
And if you just
know to still your heart and listen
You'd feel the
spirit sway
And On those
dark days the moon will glow a little brighter
On bleak
nights, the sun with burn a little lighter
Just remember
dear friend
That this
journey is measured with a broken ruler
The end seems a
million miles away
While turning
back feels like a millimeter.
The journey of
a thousand miles begins with a step my dear friend
But it will
never ever end there.
OGBE
MISAN
////////////////////////////////////
HOME IN THE MOON
You made
yourself a bird
on a rope
built your home
in the moon
Laid the bricks
in the sun
and soothe the
galaxy
to furnish it.
You claim the
moon
bows to your
sun
but the night
swallows your
shine
You said, why
play the child in gods robe?
you got a
resounding silence
so deafening,
the bricks could hear
Do you expect a
bird in a place
when it is not
caged?
Do not ask a
toad for a chair
as he himself
squats.
CHRIS N. JOHN
//////////////////////////////////
RANDOM PATTERNS (A Poem of Poems)
1.
The word was Risen,
But we were free-falling,
From the face of the earth to the depths of the skies.
We were like the angels, banished
From dungeons in heaven to throne rooms on earth
So they said that we were fallen,
But the ground on which we landed was the clouds
And then we learnt to ignore their definitions; the word was “Risen”.
2.
The word was Good,
But we were perverted
In the jurisdiction of their opinions, and jurisprudence of their prejudices.
We were like the prince of Egypt, exiled
For striking down imperial guards of the status quo
So they branded us criminals,
But the ground on which we stood was called holy
And then we learnt to stop wearing their name-tags; the word was “Good”.
3.
The word was a Sigh,
But we were flanked by eulogies
Composed to their standards of success by the ingenuity of sycophancy.
We were like Usain Bolt, preceding
Round and round in a race unmarked by a finish line
So they famed us as medalists,
But we never saw our true face in the glints of their accolades
And then we ceased dancing to their looney tunes; the word was a “Sigh”.
4.
The word was Survivor
But we were buried alive
In cenotaphs of stigmatization by false autopsies of victimization.
We were like Edison in a dark room
Presently sorting out dead ends in the labyrinth of contrivance
So they publicized our failures,
But we were an enigma to their journalists
And then we decided to outlive our epitaphs; the word was “Survivor”.
5.
What's the word? Rethink
Hasn't the black race been for so long retarded?
By the short leash of the dogMa and the puppet-strings of her Majesty?
We were like the elephant, never forgetting
The limits we were doomed to, by chains past broken
So they penned us as neo-colonies
But we've just begun losing our senses
And then we shattered the lenses of the telescope of worldview; the word was “Rethink”.
6.
The word was Living
But we were wasting away
Behind the tombstone of their appraisals and the stench gas of their impossibilities.
We were like terminal cases without life-support
Because we didn't know their modes of operations and lacked their certifications
So they drafted our obituaries,
But we discovered there is more to the temperature of life than college degrees
And then we started bursting loose from the wrappings of their gravecloths; the word is “Living”.
7.
The word is Joy
But in the arena of unhappiness, battling odd happenings
Our helmet was not the smiling emoji.
We were as a day without sunrise, gloomy
Yet breaking without need of a cockcrow or a dawning from the east-side
So they tagged us as depressed ones
But a joy that wasn't sourced by dawn couldn't be snuffed by twilight
And then we stopped equating our Selves to our Circumstances; the word is “Joy”.
8.
The word is Order
But the entropy of our cosmos appears to be ever increasing
According to the hypothesis of Physics and its second law of Thermodynamics.
1.
The word was Risen,
But we were free-falling,
From the face of the earth to the depths of the skies.
We were like the angels, banished
From dungeons in heaven to throne rooms on earth
So they said that we were fallen,
But the ground on which we landed was the clouds
And then we learnt to ignore their definitions; the word was “Risen”.
2.
The word was Good,
But we were perverted
In the jurisdiction of their opinions, and jurisprudence of their prejudices.
We were like the prince of Egypt, exiled
For striking down imperial guards of the status quo
So they branded us criminals,
But the ground on which we stood was called holy
And then we learnt to stop wearing their name-tags; the word was “Good”.
3.
The word was a Sigh,
But we were flanked by eulogies
Composed to their standards of success by the ingenuity of sycophancy.
We were like Usain Bolt, preceding
Round and round in a race unmarked by a finish line
So they famed us as medalists,
But we never saw our true face in the glints of their accolades
And then we ceased dancing to their looney tunes; the word was a “Sigh”.
4.
The word was Survivor
But we were buried alive
In cenotaphs of stigmatization by false autopsies of victimization.
We were like Edison in a dark room
Presently sorting out dead ends in the labyrinth of contrivance
So they publicized our failures,
But we were an enigma to their journalists
And then we decided to outlive our epitaphs; the word was “Survivor”.
5.
What's the word? Rethink
Hasn't the black race been for so long retarded?
By the short leash of the dogMa and the puppet-strings of her Majesty?
We were like the elephant, never forgetting
The limits we were doomed to, by chains past broken
So they penned us as neo-colonies
But we've just begun losing our senses
And then we shattered the lenses of the telescope of worldview; the word was “Rethink”.
6.
The word was Living
But we were wasting away
Behind the tombstone of their appraisals and the stench gas of their impossibilities.
We were like terminal cases without life-support
Because we didn't know their modes of operations and lacked their certifications
So they drafted our obituaries,
But we discovered there is more to the temperature of life than college degrees
And then we started bursting loose from the wrappings of their gravecloths; the word is “Living”.
7.
The word is Joy
But in the arena of unhappiness, battling odd happenings
Our helmet was not the smiling emoji.
We were as a day without sunrise, gloomy
Yet breaking without need of a cockcrow or a dawning from the east-side
So they tagged us as depressed ones
But a joy that wasn't sourced by dawn couldn't be snuffed by twilight
And then we stopped equating our Selves to our Circumstances; the word is “Joy”.
8.
The word is Order
But the entropy of our cosmos appears to be ever increasing
According to the hypothesis of Physics and its second law of Thermodynamics.
Our world is
soon without form;
And
void, we hover amidst the raging storms
So they accused us of clumsiness
But we were just at the threshold of rebirthing paradise from nothingness
And then our travail ended with one final scream; the word is “Order”.
9.
The word is Deep
But we were drowning in illusions
By the judgement of their psychology and the reality in their perceptions.
We are voyagers at the brink of possibilities
Jumping out into the sea of things foreign to the hearts of men
So they said that we were losing it
But yes! We were loosening the blindfolds of conventional reasoning
And then we broke out of the asylum of their opinion polls; the word is “Deep”.
10.
The word is Blaze
But we were going down
Down in a blaze of glory, but “down” being their focal point.
We were like shooting stars
They ignored our brightness to make mockery of our descension
So they scandalized our downfall
But we won't stop shining because they desire comfort in the darkness of ignorance
And then we erupted from the volcano of their defamation; the word is “Blaze”.
11.
The word is Fare
But we are illegal commuters
On a journey of self-discovery, against the one-way of their bandwagon.
We are like cloud-bound fishes
Swimming upward in the evaporating sea
So they conspired against our rebellion to gravity
But the truth can never be held down by the baits on their fictitious hooks
And then we leaped forth from the precipitation of their conspiracy; the word is “Fare”.
12.
The word is Anticipate
Anticipate the outpouring of our spirit of resilience upon all flesh
The emergence of witnesses validating the genuineness of our dream
Anticipate more fellows, activists & rebels ike Stephen
Undaunted by the throes and stones of martyrdom.
So when persecutors arise by the misguided zeal of world-view
We shall remain nothing but reformers of self-esteem
And then we shall take our own definitions to the ends of the Earth; the word is "Anticipate".
0.
What shall the word(s) be, by next year?
Will we be intimidated, disadvantaged, and hopeless-
When the occurrences of our lives are misinterpreted by defective lenses in their eyes?
Or will we see new sights by the intoxication of new wine in our wineskins?
So when the world attempts the perspective of the omniscient narrator,
Will we create the lines & plots by which our life's stories are to be told?
Will we against all odds choose the exact names & roles by which we wish to be called?
Will we then fill in the gaps by ourselves & with our terms? The word is “...”
@Tolu_NeoDaniel
So they accused us of clumsiness
But we were just at the threshold of rebirthing paradise from nothingness
And then our travail ended with one final scream; the word is “Order”.
9.
The word is Deep
But we were drowning in illusions
By the judgement of their psychology and the reality in their perceptions.
We are voyagers at the brink of possibilities
Jumping out into the sea of things foreign to the hearts of men
So they said that we were losing it
But yes! We were loosening the blindfolds of conventional reasoning
And then we broke out of the asylum of their opinion polls; the word is “Deep”.
10.
The word is Blaze
But we were going down
Down in a blaze of glory, but “down” being their focal point.
We were like shooting stars
They ignored our brightness to make mockery of our descension
So they scandalized our downfall
But we won't stop shining because they desire comfort in the darkness of ignorance
And then we erupted from the volcano of their defamation; the word is “Blaze”.
11.
The word is Fare
But we are illegal commuters
On a journey of self-discovery, against the one-way of their bandwagon.
We are like cloud-bound fishes
Swimming upward in the evaporating sea
So they conspired against our rebellion to gravity
But the truth can never be held down by the baits on their fictitious hooks
And then we leaped forth from the precipitation of their conspiracy; the word is “Fare”.
12.
The word is Anticipate
Anticipate the outpouring of our spirit of resilience upon all flesh
The emergence of witnesses validating the genuineness of our dream
Anticipate more fellows, activists & rebels ike Stephen
Undaunted by the throes and stones of martyrdom.
So when persecutors arise by the misguided zeal of world-view
We shall remain nothing but reformers of self-esteem
And then we shall take our own definitions to the ends of the Earth; the word is "Anticipate".
0.
What shall the word(s) be, by next year?
Will we be intimidated, disadvantaged, and hopeless-
When the occurrences of our lives are misinterpreted by defective lenses in their eyes?
Or will we see new sights by the intoxication of new wine in our wineskins?
So when the world attempts the perspective of the omniscient narrator,
Will we create the lines & plots by which our life's stories are to be told?
Will we against all odds choose the exact names & roles by which we wish to be called?
Will we then fill in the gaps by ourselves & with our terms? The word is “...”
@Tolu_NeoDaniel
/////////////////////////////////////
BEAUTIFUL AMAKA
Beautiful Amaka
I woke up this morning feeling this ecstasy
Such that makes you hold your breath
Against the muscled fart from a pregnant
Woman ready to birth her Esau & Jacob
A feeling with rhythmic pattern that
Caresses you into dancing to the tune of
Arusi Iyi like one of the acolytes in okija
The type that tastes like the Opioro mango
At the Junction between Elu & Okagwe
In God's own state
Beautiful Amaka
Have I ever told you how alluring you are?
How the Moon and the Sun crush on you
How the day wants to have you all to itself
But are you aware of this conspiracy that
The beautiful one that is yet to be born
Sits on the halved moon in the sky
Envious and petrified at your pulchritude
Perplexed at the differentness of your
Curvaceous figure that can trigger traffic
On Mile 2 Apapa Wharf expressway
Who can contend with her?
She sniggered
Beautiful Amaka
Your smile is enough to send the Sun 6ft
Like David did to Uriah with a letter
That outlived him on the battlefield
Such smile that makes the clouds slither
Away like the dispersed onward christian
Soldiers who loves to match as to war
The smile that freezes the moon to a spot
Like Johnbull your first love back in the day
Who once peed on his frail ego abruptly
But blames it on your gaze at his erection
Beautiful Amaka
Are you aware that your charm is cause?
The other day, I eavesdropped on them
Oh yes I did!
But with goodly intentions
Like Mama Nkechi does whenever she's
Plotting how to plant a discord amongst
Neighbors who are prone to fist fights
I heard all they said but didn't bulge not until
My name was mentioned between, then,
The heavens broke lose and lost its weight
From the downpour hanging on it waist
Beautiful Amaka
Surely, they would gather but this by you
They gather like the August women in Mbaisi whose agenda is to chant the
Praises of the most gorgeous and ridicule
The ones without wings..
The fledgling wannabes
They sat round the table of your content
Like Loudthotz poets with deep thoughts
Deep thoughts that spluttered droplets of
Your worth in their poetry reading
Ravaging the pores of my skin like the
Nightfall in Soweto that turned a dreaded
Disease
Beautiful Amaka
Wouldn't it be a sheer waste of time to
Build a castle of emotions in your name?
What shall it profit me to gain the whole
World and lose my place with you?
I mean, what shall my fragile heart do
To this campaign after the elections that
Have been concluded in the other room?
Why do I long for a second with you?
Such that feels like Heaven on Earth...
Why do I anticipate a forever love quest
With you when I know it will utterly dissipate
Beautiful Amaka
Please leave me so I can drown
Myself in my abject thoughts in peace...
Heaven Kelechi Kalu
@Heavenscribbles...
Beautiful Amaka
I woke up this morning feeling this ecstasy
Such that makes you hold your breath
Against the muscled fart from a pregnant
Woman ready to birth her Esau & Jacob
A feeling with rhythmic pattern that
Caresses you into dancing to the tune of
Arusi Iyi like one of the acolytes in okija
The type that tastes like the Opioro mango
At the Junction between Elu & Okagwe
In God's own state
Beautiful Amaka
Have I ever told you how alluring you are?
How the Moon and the Sun crush on you
How the day wants to have you all to itself
But are you aware of this conspiracy that
The beautiful one that is yet to be born
Sits on the halved moon in the sky
Envious and petrified at your pulchritude
Perplexed at the differentness of your
Curvaceous figure that can trigger traffic
On Mile 2 Apapa Wharf expressway
Who can contend with her?
She sniggered
Beautiful Amaka
Your smile is enough to send the Sun 6ft
Like David did to Uriah with a letter
That outlived him on the battlefield
Such smile that makes the clouds slither
Away like the dispersed onward christian
Soldiers who loves to match as to war
The smile that freezes the moon to a spot
Like Johnbull your first love back in the day
Who once peed on his frail ego abruptly
But blames it on your gaze at his erection
Beautiful Amaka
Are you aware that your charm is cause?
The other day, I eavesdropped on them
Oh yes I did!
But with goodly intentions
Like Mama Nkechi does whenever she's
Plotting how to plant a discord amongst
Neighbors who are prone to fist fights
I heard all they said but didn't bulge not until
My name was mentioned between, then,
The heavens broke lose and lost its weight
From the downpour hanging on it waist
Beautiful Amaka
Surely, they would gather but this by you
They gather like the August women in Mbaisi whose agenda is to chant the
Praises of the most gorgeous and ridicule
The ones without wings..
The fledgling wannabes
They sat round the table of your content
Like Loudthotz poets with deep thoughts
Deep thoughts that spluttered droplets of
Your worth in their poetry reading
Ravaging the pores of my skin like the
Nightfall in Soweto that turned a dreaded
Disease
Beautiful Amaka
Wouldn't it be a sheer waste of time to
Build a castle of emotions in your name?
What shall it profit me to gain the whole
World and lose my place with you?
I mean, what shall my fragile heart do
To this campaign after the elections that
Have been concluded in the other room?
Why do I long for a second with you?
Such that feels like Heaven on Earth...
Why do I anticipate a forever love quest
With you when I know it will utterly dissipate
Beautiful Amaka
Please leave me so I can drown
Myself in my abject thoughts in peace...
Heaven Kelechi Kalu
@Heavenscribbles...
//////////////////////////////////////////
ANTICIPATE
Don’t anticipate because
There is no justice
Only injustice.
Just was.
Just us.
CHISOM
