POEMS READ AT OUR LAST POETRY READING EVENT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 10 EPISODE 3 GONE BY

TWO MONTHS!

Two months!

That is all it took to break you

To make you fall in love and get broken

How could you love someone in the space of two months, they asked?

How could you be so fickle minded to fall for a jerk in just two months?

C’mon, two months is not enough to love someone, don’t be stupid.

Get your shit together and stop whining like a lost puppy.

They said, shouted and acted. Sigh!

I asked myself, why did you love someone so much in two months

And you gave him the power to hurt you? To bend you into his rules

Lose sense of who or what you could have stood for or what matters

You threw it off in the air like a child who never got a candy before

Your heart was swept in the euphoria of what love could be

How dare you let yourself be bruised and patched in love

Like a lost soul looking for an identity, you took his for yours

His plans for yours, his moods, his schedules, you took it all

How dare you?

How dare you let your heart be swept off with just an expression

How could you know? that in a bid to get you, the lion could act like a sheep?

How could you know? In a bid to get you, he put forth his best acts to for you

He was so sweet, kind, patient, caring, smart and would do anything for you

At least so he said. And you, my darling fell for words in an instant with no records

Of proven character. You fell for your heart that is pure and kind and not his

He gave you the best of time before his demon came calling which wasn’t long anyways

I wondered what it was for you; weary heart or follies to fall for an unkind man?

Over and over again, you replay the two months in your head, day by day

Wondering why you never walked away even with the obvious signs

Before you got yourself so wounded. Why didn’t you let it be a gone by love story?

That came but left you strong and resilient about your love dreams and goals

But instead, you let yourself go all the way till you were battered and broken

Than you have ever been. If only you could unsay these words, he said to you.

This was a love story in passing; it is gone by.

I hope you will forgive him for the ways he treated you,

For the hateful and hurtful words, he said to you and unsay them

For the broken reactions and find hope in the hopeless

For seeing you as a weak lover girl he never needed

I hope you forgive yourself too for loving a man,

Who came, and shattered your esteem, pride and peace?

I hope you eventually find peace and your heart stop throbbing

Or thudding with the reckless words he said to you, I hope

One day, you will hear his name or read his name and feel

No pain, not anymore! Pull yourself out of the train wreck.

Olusola Bukola

Beejay!

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GONE BY GOD'S  PLAN '

National consciousness is troubled by our sea change,
the soil is up to scratch,
ready as gold for Rome,
how long will we leave her homogeneity in murder?
The soils screaming sadly as State men pick not its salt,
When Greeks meet Greeks then comes a tug of war,
war is peace,
save the land as houses .
Oh mother ! Survive the enmity of your children,
a raindrop makes no pool,
stubborn grudges will be gone by unity.
If the drum is not made, the master is blamed,
if not beaten, blame the boys.
More of peace or power more fair. Just power indeed,
but more of peace.

Alhaja  Ajakaye Olanrewaju

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LAGOSIANS ARE CRYING.

I hope you are Methuselah,
hope you have bought your coffin.
Father Lagos
I trust you are holier than Elijah,
your children with all credentials?

Lagosians rot in Hobson's choice,
yielding anarchy by your voice.
Greedy lover of Lagos,
warrant Lagos for us.
Want to strip Lagos to balding,
you have another think coming.

I hope you are Methuselah,
hope you have bought your coffin.
Father Lagos
I trust you are holier than Elijah,
your children with all credentials?

Dead souls underneath bridges,
tyranny in centre of excellence.
Father Lagos, slave of lust,
by your lust, self rule is lost.
Men of Pharaoh prod proxies,
cart before the horse sweeps out our sense.

I hope you are Methuselah,
hope you have bought your coffin.
Father Lagos
I trust you are holier than Elijah,
your children with all credentials?

I am asking you again,
in that private jet you stole
what will you gain?
Just Lagos policies gone by you.

I hope you are Methuselah,
hope you have bought your coffin.
Father Lagos
I trust you are holier than Elijah,
your children with all credentials?

Ajakaye Rashidat Olamidayo.
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FOLK TALES

I sat at her feet

Fed from her stories that fit

They called them folk tales

They were the best 

the times could give.

I sat at her feet

A curious child

with bulging eyes

Round-faced with

a protuberant stomach

I took it all in

They were sweet to the ears

gracious to the soul

A hub of wisdom

Mirthful knowledge

Green freshness incubant

Singing ballads in melodious voice

Singing a dirge in hope

that those days

Halcyon and intense will return

And not gone by!

Chris N. John

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DEATH HAS GONE WILD, IT IS A WILD FIRE

Death is a wild fire

Death puts relationships, love to halt

Death puts hope, faith to a stop

We have been hurt by its Bab wire

I cry out my plaintive throat

Death has given me a bitter pill to swallow

I am wallowing in sorrow

I cry out my spirit groans

It cuts like a pruning saw, cutting me to shreds

Death really hurts

Death really is a wild fire

Like fire and gasoline, it burns furiously

Flaming through thy soul till it burns it down and eat it whole

Death my friend is a relieve to the pained

Its knows no one, its merciless

Death my friend has cut deep eating and eating he's gluttonous

Wait

But don't get me wrong

When I say

Death will sting and stung and then stern like a wild fire

Death is ruthless and impetuous

Death sweeps through vast stretches of the earth

Death seizes homes and places not his

Death is frightening and fearsome 

Death establishes his own justice and authority

Death erases like an eraser

Sobs

Death consumes and doesn't preserve

Death my friend has no self control

But then

Fear not my friend even death fears his own death at the ends day

Death my friend will kiss itself and eat its cake baked hot

Fear not my friend for in death lives life

For when HE calls death will answer

Be joyful for only HE knows death

When he calls death will size like flames and fume in the foggy clouds

Death indeed my friend has gone wild, it is a wild fire....

                      Elijah Ekyian ©Eliaspen

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

MIGHTY FORCE

Mighty is the force of emotions and feelings

Interwoven it passes through as feelings

In every soul as hours go by

As priceless as it can be

Feelings are mutual

Emotions are deep

As feelings passes, emotions deepens

Feelings are long gone

Emotions mark with joy or sorrow

Feelings run through the body

Through running riots in the brain

Growing boundless leaving the mind confused

Clink, clink, clink, it goes by like smoke

Emotions like the star, like the sun, like the moon imprisons the soul

Keeps it alive, lifts it up, alas broken numbs it

Emotion a mighty force that breaks barriers

Breaths down the throat solicited and unsolicited

Mighty and strong, keep in touch with it

Run along but not far off, keep it together under your wings

It can love; it can hurt but cannot be silenced

As it goes by, it will always be there

Chika Nnamani

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I SING OF RIVERS

By the bank of the Niger I sit.

Wearied by the undead echoes of prattling streamlets

Whose wares are wrapped into the loins of ancient rivers -

     Chattering rivers; shallow rivers

     Deep rivers that surge in royal silence

     Deep rivers that gobbled sinews in thoughtless hush.

O rivers! I sing of hushed tales

Buried in your silent beds.

O Euphrates! Euphrates!

I hear the chants in your silent bed:

The splendor of Sumerian lore,

The grandeur of Mesopotamia,

The glories of battles won, the fame of dead heroes,

The despair of scepters cut apiece by desperate swords -

All swept away by streamlets and showers and melting snows,

Set into your arms, but muscled to the bottom of your surging majesty.

O Tigris! O Euphrates!

I dirge for days gone by – for faith and for gloom.

As I watch, helpless, the confluence of wills by the banks of the Niger.

Nwosu Kingsley

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EMOTIONS AT BAY 

Like clouds in the sky

Opportunities sail on by

Stuff I should do or tell you

Floating away in puffs of white and blue

If only you knew

I saw your teary eyes 

And heard your muffled cry

I just never asked you why

I assumed I already knew 

Just like I knew in June

When you started grieving again

I could literally feel your pain

But then

Somehow I didn’t intervene

I kept words suppressed

And feelings unexpressed

If you only knew

That in my mind

I hugged you and stood by you

Until you stopped feeling blue

I told you how this experience will soon pass

And how this pain wouldn’t last

When jubilation knocked on your door

I celebrated and thanked The Lord

And when you danced for joy on the floor

I danced and danced even more behind closed doors

You never knew

That in my mind

I was your ever-full glass of cheer

Erasing fears and wiping tears

I felt every tug and replied with silent hugs

When I smiled at you

You always smiled back too

Now I look at you and wonder what I should do

For I have kept words suppressed

And feelings unexpressed

And like clouds in the sky

Those opportunities have sailed on by

Stuff I should have done or told you

Floated away in puffs of white and blue

If only you knew.

Erhio Obodo

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GORED EDGE OF NOON

Let us go back to the days of letters

When our minds were bold and beautiful 

And white was only an expression of shade, 

Conscience and inked display of insanity.

The mist in her cup overflows

Tripling this state of sheered drunkenness 

In a dense masking of first names;

To vivid metaphors and pronouns.

They say we are edged by the days Gone by

Like the begger sits in the mud

Of the morning rain, helplessly yellowed

in the full noon time Sun

Yet he whines only of the mud.

Dearth of sight mystifies the presence of light

And the twist in Oliver's tale may 

In another threescore years be far-fetched. 

The fruit of today's planting is rottening

And our eyes are gored by the stench

Of these lauded hollows, uncommon charades,

Virtued shenanigans, socio-dramatic empathy 

And revamped trepidation in this crimsoned land of Hope.

Yet, 

we are engulfed by Images in the rear view mirror;

Looking sadder and further into our destination.

                                            - Amar Basil 

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WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT WE WOULD SAY GOODBYE?

   Between us there were no lies;

   But the good old days are gone by

  Who would have thought we would wave goodbye?

  waving but no smile.

 Who would have thought we would hug goodbye?

  Hugging but no joy

Who would have thought we would cry goodbye?

Tears flowing like a stream.

Let the wind blow away the memories

Let the river wash away the sorrow

Let the fire burn to ashes the images

Let the Sun shine upon my heart, drying away the pain

Let the Birds mourn

For my beloved is gone.

Paul Ilesanmi

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WHISPERS ON THE SEA

Rocks,

Waves,

Wind,

Foggy cloud

And the unblinking moon,

Near, yet far!

Splashes of water,

And the tiring walk on sea sand.

Sight of stray lovers,

And their pretence of

Affection.

Sight of fun seekers,

Throwing caution to the wind.

Sight of timid

First timers, aiming only

For a splash.

Sight of daring

Old timers, diving deep, unintimidated by the waves.

Splashes and water,

And the return walk on sea sand.

Sight of adherents,

And their sanity questioning

Togas, colored candles

And mutterings.

Sight of shanty dwellers;

-Kids, running around, playing by the evening.

-Sisters, polishing their wears,

For the night’s patronage

-Brothers, staring intermittently on the fortune board and slips in hope of a cheering number

-Wives, preparing supper for the

Often, unsavoury husbands.

Rocks,

Waves,

Wind,

The moon, subdued by the fog.

-Amami H.

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EXCELLENCE BUT MORE OF FREEDOM

I hope you are Methuselah,

hope you have bought your coffin.

Father Lagos

I trust you are holier than Elijah,

your children with all credentials?

Lagosians rot in Hobson's choice,

yielding anarchy by your voice.

Greedy lover of Lagos,

warrant Lagos for us.

Want to strip Lagos to balding,

you have another think coming.

I hope you are Methuselah,

hope you have bought your coffin.

Father Lagos

I trust you are holier than Elijah,

your children with all credentials?

Dead souls underneath bridges,

tyranny in centre of excellence.

Father Lagos, slave of lust,

by your lust, self rule is lost.

Men of Pharaoh prod proxies,

cart before the horse sweeps out our senses.

I hope you are Methuselah,

hope you have bought your coffin.

Father Lagos

I trust you are holier than Elijah,

your children with all credentials?

I am asking you again,

in that private jet you stole

what will you gain?

Just Lagos policies  gone by you.

I hope you are Methuselah,

hope you have bought your coffin.

Father Lagos

I trust you are holier than Elijah,

your children with all credentials?

Ajakaye Rashidat Olamidayo.

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

GONE BY NOT FORGOTTEN

Thousands of years in the future

Today will be remembered

Because a group of people

Did something beautiful

They stopped time and put it in black and white

Today in days gone by was remembered

Because thousands of years in the past

A group of people stopped time and casted it in stone

This present in the future has already gone beyond black and white

To capture and stop a moment in time

In different forms and others yet to be discovered

We scoop from the colourful stillness of time

We can only try to emulate it

All that has gone by in the past, in this present and in the future

Will become history

Will be captured

Held still

Ever fresh

Never forgotten

We are in its canvas

IFEANYI OKWOSHA

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GONE BY

This is not a happy poem

Just a sad old poem

Just a cry of woe

Masquerading as a poem

This is about love unreturned

This is about star crossed lovers

This is about injustice in its glory

This is about good old song not sang

This is about chances gone by

This is about choices gone wrong

This is about happiness gone sour

This is about joy turned bitter

This is about the story of man

Of bitterness with the guile of a sheep

Of being a god but die like ants

Of having all but lack everything.

chisom