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| RICHARD OYIBO - WINNER POEM OF THE MONTH |
A
Tree – (Poem of the month)
A shoot, a
root a mysterious fruit
The trunk,
the bark, a giant unmasked
Displayer of
colours of natural glamour
But before
our very eyes was a mere shoot
So tender,
so little, so easily fractured
Now a plant
so strong with deep grounded roots
Hidden
secrets rise when flourished
Creepy
crawlies live within unperturbed
A giant in
you seen as a source of protection
Your
ravenish strength a creator of habitation
From
underground slums transformed to great cities
Extended
branches bringing forth love - life
Sturdily
standing tall with its strength beneath
Storms
humbled by continuous resistance
Monsters bow
before your monstrosity
Yet here was
a seed, an insignificant seed now a tree, yes a tree.
Richard Oyibo
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EQUINOX
– (Worthy of
mention)
The northern sting is sweetest
in August –
when a stranger calls
and the history of the world is upturned.
Earth glides through the sun
and at the third avenue
reckless faith buys happiness
and in my soul its independence day.
Lonesome crow, I go in search of peace
and find an inheritance in the orb of your smiles.
My private fortune, digital tenderness is all I crave;
the day I met you, I met the me.
This is no fable, in you I have found faith;
feed me to the lions,
feed me to the king of wild
frontiers
feed me to the vipers of your bosom;
lead me to the grave
of electronic dreams.
I am longing for fire, give me night lights
place the sun in the cusp of my hand,
the crying days are over.
Now is the time for crystallization
love is a solvent.
This passion has no rules
You’ll be Cleopatra, I’ll be the Knight
we will ride on the tempest
and blackmail the universe into conformity;
we will find redemption for old ghosts.
Blue sunshine
this is our hour.
Now, the earth must stop turning,
it is time for our wanton rapture.
Rise with me, rise in the ultraviolet light.
Meet me under the giving tree,
let us make rebellious love
like cinnamons and cloves.
Our souls are at zero,
so let us taste again
the
luxury of ignorance.
let us bath again in the cold rain
in the sanctum of the forbidden Eden.
Soonest Nathaniel
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VOW
As I rest my back against this bark,
Holding your hands,
Gently absorbing the rays from your smile’s glow,
Sheltered by the Canopy of the cheerful leaves above.
I do solemnly vow to nurture the seeds of love so
planted today.
To be the shade when the weather attacks
With hysterical downpour, or ruthless sun beams
I’ll provide the shoulder for your vines to climb
upon.
I pray for you a life much sweeter than nectar,
Stemming from a fruitful life tree,
With branches that Breathe life into luscious fruits
And sweet flowery fragrance that attract the rarest of
birds.
As the birds take off,
time spreads its wings and flies along,
Even when your leaves become wrinkly in time,
As it happens in old age.
I’d still love you
As the years go by, and your leaves begin to fall,
One by one…..
My love for you would neither wilt nor wither.
For when your last leaf falls to the warm embrace of
the earth,
I’ll lay with you,
Deeply rooted,
Where our love was first sown.
Adebayo Aluko
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
TREES
The
trees I know are no longer in their places but for one.
The
sacred tree at the back of the sacred hut has fallen to time.
The
gods now take their diet naked in the full glare of the sun.
The
neem tree at Okwere has given place to the mansion of the sweetest man in
Babylon.
Children
no longer get the sweet-sour taste under the udala tree,
Its
roots no longer keep evil at bay for moonlight play.
The
grape tree at the Ifelodun CAC has been displaced by a coconut tree.
Whenever
father catches a branch,
It
rains in all directions.
The
coconut tree at Akindenor Street was an agenda item at the last residential
association meeting.
We
agreed it is hindering the line of sight of the power pole.
So
we said our closing prayers and it must die by fire!
I
have seen the boisterous girth of the mango trees at the streets of Mkar.
They
bear fruit in due seasons, while the ones in Nma’s Umuoyigba farm, bear fruit
out of seasons.
So,
how do my childhood come to terms with the gigantic Iroko tree at Amore Street,
Ikeja with no fruit?
Still,
I have had the best moments of life frolicking with trees.
I
have taken a still pose with the elephant tree at the Iyake suspended Lake in
Iseyin.
I
have taken a nap on the tree with the twisted branches at the Udogbe end of my
village.
I
have taken shelter under the dwarf almond tree at the shanties of Lekki.
I
have smiled for a selfie inside the treehouse at LCC and had to learn to walk
again.
I
have ascended to the peak of the Erin fall through the roots of the mountain
trees.
I
have had
the
best moments
of
life frolicking with trees.
Still,
I beg to ask, is the cursed tree that useless?
-Amami H.
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THE TREE, THE EAGLE AND THE
PIGEONS
On a remote island, there is a
rubber tree
which none abroad would care even if
they see.
No one knows how many birds come and
go
and how many times a day; I only
know
of an eagle with countless
visions
and her friends, the dreamer
pigeons,
which etch in the lithy branches
stories
of sun travel and their navigation
theories.
It is painful for the tree, which to
waste bleed
its milky miracles from wounds of
fruitless religions;
and for the deaf eagle and the blind
pigeons!
No one hears the silent wind that
shake trees
until the ground is ready to crack
and nigh
to exposing slender roots. There is
famine and
when the tree falls, everything will
sail its kind
across the sea and say “we saw it
and know why.”
Aduragbemi Omopariola
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
MY TREE POEM
oh
tree, how do you feel as your leaves drop dead?
oh,
tree how do you feel as the sun shines scorching hot?
Is
it a profit or a loss?
Is
it a blessing or a curse?
Dear
tree, how do you go through the wait for fruition?
Dear
tree, how do you cope with the demands?
Are
your whistling leaves speaking words?
Maybe
if I pay attention I would hear them.
Chimenem
Owuru
//////////////////////////////////////////////////
TREE
In
The Wind
the
wind is a blessing
the
wind is a curse
the
wind brings glory
the
wind brings hurt
the
wind is a caress
the
wind is a slap
the
wind exists like it must with no apologies or regrets it must flow as it must
and it must be still when it must only the wind knows when
to
be one with the wind you must be a tree
I
am a tree, planted by any and all sides
I
would have loved the river but life is another determinant of what must be
I
am a tree I move with the wind I read its caress and bask in its nudge
I
show you real beauty in the dance we do together
its
touch brings me growth even when it causes my branches pain in all that, still,
I remain
it
comes with the rain and it comes with the heat
it
comes with the sun and with the moon too
I
am never bothered about its timed timeless arrivals, it only comes as it must
even
at its worst I will still remain
be
it whole or done in by its wrath as a hurricane.
it
may leave me as I am, where I am
it
may toss me in the air and plant me else where
it
may break me and that would hurt
but
I always remember it has carried the smell and essence of me far and wide
so
when it breaks me up in one end
I
am sure I have my root
deeply
planted
already
at another.
for
the wind
I
am the tree
planted
at many and all sides
the
wind is a blessing
the
wind is a curse
Abimbola Abayomi
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
VENGEANCE
Listen,
I am IT
Proud and strong
They say the gods reside in me
I say my pride roots me deeply
It is why I stand apart,
Away from the others
My head, steady, communing with the
highest
The Sap inside me is sweet
nourishment that relieves your stress
I give you shade, through rain and
shine
I fuel your warmth, with all that is
mine
Surely no reason to cringe
but to do this, I have to cry
Why?
Well… look at me,
No wings to grace beautiful
skies
Or wave to pretty birds as they fly
This time,
You won’t just push me down or shake
me
I will crack your back with every
whack
And don’t you dare bark
Hugging my back
Scared, at the sound of thunder’s
impatient clap
You saw it coming
way before it got dark
This heavy whizz and angry sneeze
from heaven’s floodgates
are in my favor
Aha!
The Gods hear me again
Let this bitter taste on your
lips
haunt your tongue and fingertips
as you wipe the signs of struggle
off your hands
onto your thighs
It, shall be your glaring reminder
That I am IT, yea She
full of bitterness against you
And you see these juices,
Thick, Sticky, Icky
Mixed with soil & muck
Piled, all around me?
I will sink you and leave you stuck
Today is not a good day for a climb,
I tell you
This time,
my bits will travel through this
storm and lodge
deep inside you
Stuck,
In your throat
Right in the jugular
Bloody, Red, thick, nasty, slashing,
gory,
Yes
Dripping
You should not hit
Be IT, a person,
or a thing
How does my presence trouble your
existence?
You, lack the essence of a good
thing
Isioma
Anbrose
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
A WOMAN'S BODY IS A
TREE
A
woman's body is a tree,
A
lofty bough of divinity,
Arms
stretching to the heavens every
moment,
praying
life into her seeds- offering strength.
A
woman's body is a tree,
her
colourful striations revealing a psychedelic beauty,
Her
flamboyant branches opening up
like
ornamental garlands.
Such
graceful-ness!
A
woman's body is a tree,
swaying,
singing, calming,
Casting
her canopy-like shadows
over
the young- offering warmth.
A
woman's body is a tree,
standing
even when the moon pulls the tide- persistent and thick-skinned,
Her
presence impossible to ignore.
A
woman's body is a tree,
a
bristlecone pine- snarled, old, aged,
Burnt-out,
bent, broken,
yet
thriving in spite of these
catastrophic
wildfires.
Priscilla
Ahaiwe
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TREE
You cackle as you remember
'you are not a tree, move'
an over flogged line deliberately meant to set
fire on fatigued emotions
'move, you are not a tree'
'you are not a tree, move'
you cackle again as your thoughts flip and
swing,
how can the tree be this thing that's embedded
in stagnancy and yet a free thing that's synonymous with growth
A sigh escapes from the sides of your
saucer-shaped mouth
would you want to be more like the tree?
never in any kind of denial of your
resourcefulness
confidently backed by your bark
the very stem of life
would you want to be in conversations with all
the elements of nature?
not afraid to be erased by the fury of all that
is meant to hold you together
would you want to be more like the tree?
have parts of you reach places you only dream of
while still rooted in the familiar?
Be free and still bound
Unsteady yet immobile
Bloom but wither
you are cackling again, because do you really
want to be everything and nothing at all?
ANITA OGUNI
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
WE
ARE TREES
We
have walked most of the earth standing still
Moving
imperceptibly under and above the terra firma
Whether
coniferous, espalier, deciduous or evergreen
We
are made for different seasons
For
different reasons
Our
life force is energy
And
we give energy in different forms
We
watch and record the passage of time
Our
pages are there for everyone who speaks our language
We
have representatives for all the virtues
Benevolent
and true
And
yet some have been taken by the dark side
Our
life spans from a whisper to booming millennia
Like
earth and water
Air
and fire
The
balance of life is intrinsically within our DNA
We
are trees
We
have walked most of the earth standing still
Our
journey continues
Ifeanyi
Okwosha September 2021
////////////////////////////////////////////
Expression
of interest
A wandering fruit
I was bruised with my emptiness
I told my grudges ,my grudges multiplied
I was bruised with my iniquities
I told it not ,my grudges exploded
And I wandered in my own fears
Dawn and dusk slept with my years
And I summoned courage with brevity
And soften my heart to bear emnity
And it emerges both branches and fruits
Till the storm ponders through its root
And my iniquities burrow through its stem
Waiting for my fruitless thought of thine
And into my guardian's tomb
Walking through the swamp and Savannah
Bare no Unforbidden troops of leaves
With an outstretched arm beneath us
A wandering mind is an unhappy mind
Wondering in my deepest thought
Comes mediocrity ,integrity and curiosity
Along the height of my inner mind
Becoming a sexual Megan
Holding me to my diffused state
Bleeding in my endless vision
People worship at my own throne
Without experiencing loneliness
But inheriting ancient deities
Ubong Abasi
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////
THE
PICTURE
The grand old tree
Stood where it had always been
Right there at that location
Today though it caught my attention
Some of it's roots were above the ground
As kids that's where we could be found
Either digging or peeling
Or just sitting and singing
It's branches spread out like a canopy
Of luscious leaves in three shades of green
It's trunk
Thick, dark brown,
Tough, rough and hard
I remember trying to hug it
It was so wide my fingers never met
I couldn't reach both sides
(I might now if I try)
The hugs stopped, to avoid the itch
And the ants that climbed on my skin
Yeah
That cool tree had heard most of our secrets
Hidden us from searching eyes
Shielded us on sunny days
Sometimes even from the rain
I'm sure it knew all our names.
Today as always
It stood elegant and tall
I decided to capture it all
So I could save the memory
For all eternity
Erhieyovwe
