Saturday 13 June 2020

POEMS READ AT LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 11 EPISODE 6 THIS

WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH AMAMI HENRY


ARỊRỊỌ (poem of the month)
(Supplications)

Nna biko
Eze biko
fi ṣá ma anyan miri
dim naya, nna biko
fi ṣá ma anyan miri
dim naya, eze biko

Uncertainty
burdens the heart
the cry of dependents
weigh heavily on one' shoulders

fi ṣá ma anyan miri
dim naya, nna biko

the days
are unusually long
night looms endlessly
dawn falls to weariness

fi ṣá ma anyan miri
dim naya, eze biko

The path
to the stream
are filled with thorns
‘cankermog’
invade our farmlands

Is this the first
of the seven plagues
or the seven plagues
in one full blow?

if anything, at least
answer the 6-year-old
who ask the mother
"when will everything be okay?"

fi ṣá ma anyan miri
dim naya, nna biko!

-Amami H.
////////////////////////////////////

THIS CHILD OF OHIMINI
I am a child of a river
Ohimini;
Storm darkened by day
Brackish brown by noon
Starry bright by night
Full and flowing with
Love, grace and glows
as silent as light
So, do I

I was born by a Hill
Ojuwo Atogu;
A birthstool of giants
An anvil for forging titans
Ancient, long and strong
full of life, grit and glory
And as solid as granite
So, am I

I was born by the savannah
Guinea-forest;
tree of canopies like starched gelées
and leaves like thousand green tongues
dancing, whispering to the winds about
Wetness, wildfire, and wilderness
as sanctuaries for seekers.
So, do I

I am the son of a river
Whose breasts nursed me
I am the son of a hill
Whose shoulders raised me
I am the son of the savannah
Whose green gold feeds me
I am the son of a furnace
whose blue fire rises like a sea.
So, am I  

This is who I am
A child of a river, and
I do what rivers do
I rise!

@Achile Michael Umameh

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

THE RACE

There, they stood (brothers called Ann Sisters
because all men have but one parent)
To race - to run for life, for good.

Tremors swimming in each one's veins
Colourful thoughts came in and went.

"This one's for the grandkids, " One Ann Sister said.
"This one's for a country where I'd be stead."
"I'll do this by the book." "Me, for the name."
"And me for a place where mother nature came."

"And let's make a race that no one will forget.
Put on these blindfolds, one for each head."
"But why have you not got one?" One Ann Sister asked.
"Worry not, my brother - closed eyes too are masks!"
ON YOUR MARKS! (and in your masks) SET!! BANG!!!


Tobia Aby

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

"TO THIS VIRUS"
(A Poem)

I. Lover: 
The last time I saw her was a day before the lockdown, 
Time froze under that bridge where we held hands; 
That music from her touch - 
still singing - in my blood. 
So to this virus, we promise:  
“Many lockdowns can not quench love.” 

II. Rebel: 
The last time I passed my bus-stop was two months ago, 
Our "Ruler"- says we must stay at home; 
But there is no home- without food in our bellies,  
And my kitchen tells me that rules were made to be broken.
So to this virus, we clarify:   
"It is hunger, not you, that we are scared of!"

III.  Caregiver: 
The last time the politicians visited was never; 
they are lab-rats for the foreigners! 
But now that all cages abroad are closed,
We will treat them, in facilities they didn't build. 
So to this virus, we give silent thanks;   
At least now we'll be paid more, attention!  

IV. Magician:  
The last time was a boom when Ebola came, 
business never remained the same! 
The gullibility of the common man- 
Is such a bottomless gold-mine! 
So to this virus, they'll pay taxes!
For rituals! To pacify ancestors!” 

V. Common man: 
The last time we were fooled was a lifetime ago; 
We are born again now, our múmù don do! 
Where's that guy who so much wanted to free the sheeple? 
Well, the sheeple in lockdown have been hungry, still awaiting his donation. 
So to this virus, we'll pay tithes, 
“Thank you, for making us realize our runaway-daddy never truly loved us” 

VI. Jester: 
The next time we are tagged as lazy youths, 
We will remind them of who made Savage trend on Twitter; 
Our “active elders” want us to smile while we suffer, 
But we are crazier than they think; we'll suffer, make jests and laugh hard! 
To this virus? Say no more, 
On social media we've said more than enough. 

VII. Innocent: 
Next time, we won't sing "Holiday is coming" 'cos holiday has come - 
since Co'wona started, and we want it to stop. 
What can we do to this Vai-worse? 
And mum, what's the meaning of “Vai-worse”? 

VIII. Preacher: 
The next time reality takes the place of religion, 
the world will still theorize it as conspiracy. 
So we've learnt, that he who goes against the flow 
must anticipate the wrath of the ocean; 
Yet, to this virus, we say nothing else 
except “Be gone and cast into the sea!”

IX. Hero: 
Next time, we will be proactive! 
Closed airports will be the first thing! 
And it won't matter if it's the President's kid, 
Our nation means more than my next-kin! 
Honestly, to this virus we have nothing to say, 
but to our negligence and unpreparedness. 

X. Dreamer: 
Whichever time we awaken from this nightmare, 
please brew us some coffee in abundance -
that we may spend sleepless nights 
in the refinery of our day-dreams. 
And whatever we say, do or don't say to this virus,
May it never leave us bereft of our visions. 


@tolu_neodaniel 

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

PANDEMONIUM
This lunar year
Pandemonium is the new calm.
Dictated to by the unpredicted Asian bug,
My partner: Age, cheated on me again.
It snuck out at midnight and struck grandmother,
I desire your number, it demanded.
81, she said!
Ohh, that’s the highest I will ever get, it said.
And out, like a brief candle, she was snuffed.

Ololade Rhea 
////////////////////////////////////

MY BREATH

The fire booted my head
At least not a kneel on my neck
I only wanted this knowledge
To put me on existence map
My body has become a boot 
of crawling fingers
Which is better?
My colour the reason for the hate?
What is my sin?
I am in His holy house
before His majesty
These sinners
have no respect
No fear for the Holy
They had their way
Why take my breath?

Chris N. John
///////////////////////////

REAWAKEN THE SPIRIT

This is for you
Yes I mean you
who craves success
and you with dwindling hope.
Let's ignite the spark tonight
when the sky's blanket is dark
and the stars are yet to be back
Let's bring back the embers
Wherever the night bids us.
Let me reawaken your spirit
to embolden that zeal
to be exhumed
from that dampened mind.
Let me bring forth the rays
you have long hidden within you.
It is never too late to start believing
It is never too late for reawakening
Before the day of reckoning 
when words shall be called upon
to re-write what it had learnt.
Believe that where others have failed
you can earn yourself laurels.
Muyideen Ayinla
///////////////////////////////////

LIBATION
I say that this land will not reap the seeds we have sown
Isee!
Let it not take libations of blood poured every day anymore
Isee!
Like a deaf and dumb let it not hear with the hearing of the ear
Isee!
And may it not speak with the speaking of the tongue
Isee!
To rogues and charlatans who crookedly limp in the night to plan evil
Isee!
May this land not see eyes that see evil and smile
Isee!
May it not hear those who hear evil with their ears and nod
Isee!
May it not give breathe to those who snuff out the light of hope
Isee!
May those who choke this land fall like ripe Udara 
Isee
This land, you must clap in their ears like tropical thunders
Isee
They will not hear us coming like the cat hunting a rat
Isee!
They will not see us like the bat in the middle of the day
Isee!
Because we are borne from your loins
Isee!
And with your fats you have fed us and continue to feed us
Iseeeeeeeeeeee!

Chisom
////////////////////////
A TIME LIKE THIS
There is a scoundrel on the loose,
He ravages and attacks ferociously.
Everywhere he rears his ugly head
Falls into despair, at a time like this.

They say he puts the old in a noose,
What kind of coward attacks the elderly?
With an uncouth demeanor that we’ve never read
Or heard of as at a time like this.

Though herculean seems the task,
For us to put up a worthy fight,
We must first strangle fear and let courage breathe,
Especially at a time like this.

Shield yourself with face mask,
Stay away from others and then you just might,
Survive if your sanitiser is left unsheathe,
Then, victory could be yours at a time like this.

When our progeny hear this tale,
They shall know that despite this strength of his,
We stood strong to come out hale,
And defeated the enemy at a time like this.

Bayo.
///////////////////////////////
THIS:

This is that, that we have often spoken about.
The 'that' of old men dreaming, young men envisioning, young women prophesying; prophylacting and not to forget the wailing women weeping at the walls!

This is that, when they said,
if you refuse to reckon with
Martin, you will have to answer eventually to the spirit of Malcolm and Brown!

That Baldwin's fire next time
is now the ongoing fire this time
Fire, gangrenized, galvanized
and weaponized.

This is the that of consequential inaction, action and pro-action.

This is picking a priority and establishing several posteriorities which come to bite you in the posterior and now you can no longer sit on your seat of learning, though you refused to learn when the Board of Education versus Brown was handed down and misapplied!

This is what happens when all structures and strictures that underpin our foundations are let loose on the altar of the  generational search for flow,
fluidity in morality, sexuality
and gender specificity and all
round "wokeness"

This is that moral ambiguity that has brought us to this place.

When and where the rules no longer apply and have become
not the imperatives, but the suggestions, the tentative indications and no more the inexorably commanded.

This is that
This is what happens
This is why there are no
orchids for Miss Blandish
This is why
And now these!

Andrew Whyte
////////////////
EARLY BIRDS RISE
If dawn comes along with rain
They want no surprise
Flapping their wings
An endless dance with the winds
Floating in elegance
Voices become the pendant
That necks desire to wear
A pattern in the skies above
There’s a mobile choir in the rear
This rare view
Of a earth sprawled below
Wherever the land boils
Our eagle eyes will know
Early birds rise
Freedom is not being forced to fly
Happiness is having open sanctuaries
Meditating within sights but out of earshot
Moving without a map but never getting lost
There are no passersby with ugly glares
We do not cough from the smoke of your endless flares
We do not sip from the gossip that keeps your lips moist
We do not rise to the bait of hate via clusters
We do not have lovers who cannot have other lovers
We do not restrict the happiness that love transmits
We do not have doors and have no use for keys
We may share a kiss just to say please
We do not need to grease before the face glows
So we don’t know what you mean when you say more grease to your elbows
We do not bow to the king that reigns down below
Early birds rise
Feel free to sell your cages because we will not be slaves
We do not use the tree for free because we pay with our songs
Do not call us citizens, we belong to no one
Leave us to the skies to thrive
Leave us to the rivers to play with
Ask the winds if we are not joyful to play with
Include us in your team, we are happy to play wings
Given me the parched scrolls when I become a raven
Tell me the secrets that shares craving
Send me to the son with no known father
Leave us out of the banter
With no good offspring
Leave us out of the flock forced to pay offering
Don’t share with us, your spoils of war, we are not hungry
Let us bring you the news of your neighbors in famine
Let’s help you refine the hatred you have for those you don’t know are family
Let’s help you add sugar to your mornings
Sweet songs served to your hearing with no prior warning
Let’s be the push you need to draw your curtains
Let’s teach you how to find beauty in the plains,
Early birds rise…

Akeem Adetayo Oyalowo
/////////////////////////
THIS LINE IS A THIN LINE

I have lived like stars during the day
Like a rainbow at night
Hidden in the tears of the rain in the oceans
My name was not to be a reference
For we are many
A man’s quest best known to his possessor
Turned the eyes of sauron on him
A tool that represents his kind
Unleashes the dam of the oppressed
It grew dark and we saw the stars and the red moon
This is not the beginning
Not the end
It is a point within spaces in time
Vengeance is not the right of men
Under this banner everyone his own mirror
Before you throw that stone and point fingers
Remember that, that which you condemn has siblings
That reflects in the mirror
So before you throw that stone and point fingers
Which of the siblings is yours?

Ifeanyi Okwosha
///////////////////////////////////
THIS IS ME
I have changed the raiment of my reality
At dawn I made you a foe of snooze
The cock is my viceroy
I paid the obeisance to the sun youthfulness at noon
The heavenly showers bowed to me in reverence at dusk
In joyous and anxious anticipation
I am a family man
But don’t count the elements of my groin
Yet my progeny caresses your skin
Its sibling defines our relationship
They said that I have changed
That I now do not follow the dictates of time
Summer my progeny has sold its birthrights to winter
For a pot of temporal porridge
Winter in fear has refused to go away
The tides now paid unsolicited visits to the coast
Swallowing innocent faunas and flora's alike
I have showcased my raiment again at noon
Yet I am auctioned in deed of disagreements
I am the one that the weather loves

Olumide Soyemi