POEMS READ AT OUR LAST POETRY READING LOUDTHOTZ POETRY OPEN READING SEASON 12 EPISODE 7 - SENT ON JULY 2021

 

WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH - ANITA OGUNI

SCENT BY SENT – (Poem of the month)

 

"I can still smell the sent of your hair'' the crumpled weather-beaten brown paper screamed at my coconut oil-laden oval-shaped face, wrapping me in memories I thought had long found a new shelter.

You had always decked out obstinacy like a worthy badge.

To you, the 'c' in scent was as useless as a world where we lived as strangers

You stuck to leaving it out, 

and oh my, you were hooked on that word like monkey to a banana.

oh, the memories.

What are you doing today?

Does her 'sent' also make you write a thousand verses in a split second?

 What am I doing today?

I am sending my heart on errands that they might not return from

I am recollecting all my recollections

I am memorizing these waning memories

I am sending my heart back to a time when the only thing that mattered was receiving slabs of your love on brown-lined paper.

I am sending my heart back to a time when my 'sent' always sent you to heaven and all the places like it.

 

Anita Oguni

 

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LETTER TO AN OPEN HEART – (worthy of mention)

 

Your heart will drain itself of all its longings

 

When you turn around and face the reality that all you thought you had placed in the deep recesses are lies

 

An illusion

 

You’ll learn not to blame the one you gave yourself to so yearningly

 

You’ll also learn not to chastise yourself for being so trusting

 

So willing to give

 

So pliable

 

To dream of and be moved by

 

Promises that were laced with promises of promised lands of love

 

You will need reason to wrench your heart of desires that have curled up within

 

Logic will stare you down with disdain

 

Hope will turn its back

 

 and fate?

 

Fate was there all along

 

Mocking you

 

Throwing up its nose at you

 

When your heart has passed through this phase

 

When the familiar purge is complete

 

Only one thing will soothe you back to sanity

 

Faith

 

 

 

Kemi Bonuola

 

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DO IT.

 

Sent.

The end result

of thought and action

An interaction

which grows in value

depending on the time or need 

of the given seed

Which flows back to the volume of thought

An action that can't be bought

Consideration is becoming rare

Is it so hard to show you care?

 

Send a picture

A memory that evokes laughter and cheer

Not one that frees our tears

as it captures the last frame for eternal years.

Send a nice message

before the condolence register appears

Send a bouquet 

Not a wreath

Give someone a special treat 

A voice note to a friend

Is much sweeter than a dirge 

Whatever it is you send

Send it in time

Send it on time.

Send it..Sending..Sent.

Celebrate life.

 

 

Erhieyovwe

 

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BREAKFAST

 

I now live in the days I was scared to prophesy about.

My truth is now an ugly truth, 

and this present house has turned into a latrine of tiredness,

a depository of pain, and a journal of falsified passion.

 

I now carry an infirmity in my heart, 

a diagnosis that was never meant to be,

until you pounded a fist into my rib cage, 

crumbled the bones of my security,

took my beating heart in your palms 

only for you to give it a beating.

You served me breakfast, breakfast in death.

 

I do not regret the days of how I foolishly loved,

I only regret the ‘who’ I foolishly loved.

Till this grieving moment, there’s a halo of misery on my head, 

and a crown of confusion, 

well complemented with a well-fitting blazer of agony.

You sent my heart to the ER, rescued it yourself, 

sent it back again, took it back, 

sent it back again, and again, and again.

My “again” is the nursing of your ego.

 

My heart keeps cracking, it keeps shattering, it keeps splintering

even after it has touched the floor, it still keeps breaking.

You are both king and queen at this;

a royal figure of insensitivity and pride,

The kind of destructive pride that burns with fire and brimstone.

 

You are the cook of hell,

consistently serving dishes salted in pain.

However, please remember, 

there is still a bigger devil waiting to serve you.

This food must go round.

Gbogbo wa la ma je breakfast!

 

Akinbulumo Samora

 

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TRANSMITTERS AND RECEIVERS

 

There was void 

Before Light was sent 

To bring warmth and movement

Morning arrives 

To bring warm sunlight after a cold night

The rainbow of hope 

That breaks forth after a stormy weather 

The warmth sent from those windows 

Breaking down walls 

 

Everyday a chapter with blank pages 

Filled with decisions 

That affect past, present and future chapters

 

The waves will always carry its stories of the seas 

Every rock a story book

Every man a page  

His stylus is his works

We are transmitters and receivers

We write our stories

 

Ifeanyi Okwosha

 

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SENT

 

I have been sent with a message

But this message is not nke chinyere

I have been sent by my past

With bespoke grudges and hate that stinks to the heaven

Given the message to serve hot to my brothers

THEY HATE US!

I have been told of wars that were fought over nothing

And how the rumors of war has been sown and must be reaped

I have been told to tell my brothers that the scars still itch

That they must honor that scar and a stitch in time saves nine

I have been shown marks of betrayals by neighbors

Drawn with the iridescent colors of anger

But . .

My brothers have shown me more hate than my enemies

They have given me more scars than I have been told about

I can’t find my brothers to deliver the message

Because they are out there digging my grave

I have found succor in the hands of my “enemies”

Do we then throw the dirty water away with the baby

 

CHISOM