I PAINT YOU

I paint you red

 for the blood fused in this covenant

Can't be broken by sword,

 with this brush coating layers of season and time with each stroke.

 I know the hue of your dimple like a palette holding the shimmer of your light. 

I paint you blue

for deepest part of the sea will bring you my quiet yes

Yes to all your wishes,

 wishes of harmony and serenity of thought

With spring of joy streaming through my heart from the love you pour in me.

 Reflecting shades of calm and peace.

I paint you yellow

For summer brings sweet memories

Of your touch and kisses and the very art of your lovemaking shaping our laughter,

drumming our heartbeat,

making our body meet as one.

With blossom flower reminding me of how ripe your cleavage swells

 just as petals open up,You open my eyes to sweetness.

I paint you white

For eternity we will be

In this moment, from the endless life

 the world unknown told only through the innocence of your eyes

I paint you green

 Fresh as the morning fields,

 lushy as your sheened skin.

 With a fruity taste of your womanhood

as I polish the contour of your hip side, giving it the bounty of motherhood.

I paint you black

 For the lonely days I never knew you,

 waiting for you to come to me,

 hoping that some day I'll find you.

 Preparing my body to learn every of your finger prints

through your smile,your smell, your smooch and every detail of your tongue brushing through my skin

I paint you in love

Cause it's the only colour that will define what my heart truly knows from this precious gift of yourself you've given me.

I paint you.

@adapoetryblog

this is a story...

This is a story of When
hearts  fused
unknowingly
As songs were sung
into bejewelled ears
And feet and body were led in a tango, and a rumba and then a salsa to the music of laughter.                                               
It is a story of Consciousness swooning at each warm gaze
and of soft touches
peeling easily away at formidable defenses
Till the core lay like a newborn -
True. Bare. Vulnerable. Alive and
Infinitely loved.

This is also a tale of How
betrayal took a trust it could never give
Leaving in its wake
pain to ensnare faith
guilt of deeds done
and undone
Of words said
and unsaid
to burden the same hearts
now lain in a mangled nest
of shame and fear
Craving comfort from without
From friends and foes
In hugs and words
some heard, others lost
Some pure gold bars and others blocks of ash
Crumbling weightless and worthless at feet Immobile

It is a story of hearts
Now chained by vows and
memories sweet of times past,
Embalmed in the Essence that creates
Who now must willfully recreate  what once was given by fate

That which was once
In every song
sang into bejewelled ears
In every rhumba and salsa
to the music of laughter
In every kiss and touch
and meal shared.
If they are ever to live again

Ulo Inyama
twitter @ dentiloquia

Prayer to Ink man

Painter of shapes, beings and stories,
Singers of music, dancers of steps,
Pipetted and dropped, for an end point,
To unknown chemistry of wolves and slanders.
But we be, but drops of inks or colours,
Careless, spreading for tales in millions.

Painter of lines, inks and Saturdays,
Words are ordinary, poetry is extra,
Like mourning on Monday,
Painting on a penthouse,
I’m a son, born on Sunday.
But I be still, a drop of ink or colour.

Man by man the world he grew,
Woman by woman, our strength was made,
Shades of love and carelessness,
Beyond the reaches of all dreamers’ nights,
Plugged from stars on a sleepless night.
A drop of ink or colour, the story is made.

Painter of places, shadows and sleeps,
Maker of nowhere that has a middle,
Creator of shades with love that tickles.
Stroke by stroke, let’s sing his fiddle,
Brush by brush, our paints are single,
But we mingle, we’re inks and colours.

Painter of warriors, heroes and greatness,
Water my bottle, take my flow from lateness,
Fill my heart with college of mindsets,
Make my prime more golden than bracelets,
Wash my errs, sometimes I’m shameless.
Like inks and colours, my shine the brightest.

Painter of love, hugs and kisses,
Owner of light, smiles and blessings,
They call it prayers, I’ll bow in tenses,
Show me the sun, closer than the earth,
Give me a son, daughters and neigbours,
The inks and colours, I’ll leave behind.

Chinedu Hardy Nwadike

THE MIND OF DR. BENNY LYNN

THEY SAY HOUSEWIVES LOVE ME

STUDENTS REALLY LOVE ME

THERE’S A CERTAIN, CERTAIN HIGH

THAT THEY REALLY GET FROM ME

YOU COULD FIND ME AT YOUR LOCAL PHARMACY

‘CAUSE NAFDAC COULDN’T TRY ME

I COME IN A GLASS BOTTLE

MAKE MY VICTIMS WOBBLE

MAKE THEM TALK SLOW

LIKE, “KAI BAAABAAA CHOOOW!”

MY NAME IS BENNYLYNN

AND I’M MIXED WITH CODINE

MESSING WITH ME MAN

CAN BE REALLY REALLYLEAN

IN AMERICA THEY CALL ME SIZZURP

JUICE AND COUGH SYRUP

NOW COME NEAR

AS I WHISPER IN MY NEXT VICTIM’S EARS

By Abdulnasir Imam  twitter (@trapoet)

CHILHOOD BLUES

I FELT I LOST MY CHILDHOOD WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN

NO MORE SEGA GENESIS, I WAS HURTING

WITH THE GIRLS, I WAS FLIRTING

(WITH PROBABLY LITTLE TO NO SUCCESS)

AN IMAGINATIVE CHILD GOING WILD

WITH NOTHING ELSE TO DO

JUST LOOKING IN THE MIRROR

SAYING, “IT’S ME AND YOU”

‘CAUSE I NEVER DID MUCH WITH MY SIBLINGS

THOUGH THEY GIVE ME MY NEPHEWS & NIECES

OH, HOW MANY OF THEM?

I LOVE THEM TO PIECES

AND I WISH THEM A BETTER CHILDHOOD

OVERWEIGHED WITH MORE GOOD

AND I HOPE TO BE RESPONSIBLE

LIKE A GOOD UNCLE SHOULD

By Abdulnasir Imam  twitter (@trapoet)

SUCCESS

SUCCESS HAS NO PITY

SO YOYE LEFT THE CITY

EXCHANGED ABUJA FOR LAS GIDI

I HOPE HE FINDS IT

AND LINDSEY TRIED PROJECT FAME

THE OUTCOME WAS LAME

BUT WINNER OR NOT

HER TALENT STAYS THE SAME

I HOPE SHE FINDS IT

REHASHING OLD LYRICS

IN THE HOPE OF SOME NEW FOUND RECOGNITION

I HOPE I FIND IT

FOR EVERYWITH A DREAM

WITH OR WITHOUT THE MEANS

I HOPE THEY FIND IT

SUCCESS!

By Abdulnasir Imam  twitter (@trapoet)

What is wrong with Black

What is wrong with black, 

so far i know the night eases my soul from the cravings of my heart,

 giving me peace to sleep in the still of the night.

What is wrong with dark,

 the sun of the desert burns sands that blow my face, 

picking holes in me, burning me but black keeps me handsome.

Black shields me. Black is the mask that beauty wears,

 black is mascara, the reality of a dream we hold dear. 

An intension of creation from the creator.

It was first black until there was light as commanded. 

Black is origin, origin is beginning, 

black is source, black is beginning. 

Black is real as it never fades.

I am black, I sleep in black, 

I long for black to ease my bones as I lay after light has laboured me so, 

all worn and warned, black gives me sleep and peace till morn.

So still I rise, for I am black and black in me still rise.

 So long as black births dawn, I will be the best I am.

 Light will birth from black.

 Mama, black. Africa mama. Black Mama.

 By Nsikan Ekah

Reflection

When suddenly, there’s nothing,
Yesterday become wasted, not spent,
Like time spoilt, so bad we couldn’t use it,
When kids are bolder, because they see,
Men are frightened because they saw,
Who saw the end and beginning?

When suddenly, a mirror turns spirit,
Shows ghosts of our past, like no future will be.
Then I wonder, what is the mirror without me?
No! What is me, without the mirror?
Am I who or what? This is not the man in me.
Only if another mirror has same to say.

When suddenly, I need you to see me,
What would you say? Is that all I am?
Maybe I am, but I was; I was there.
Yes there! Yes dear, you’ve never been here,
Find yourself and find me. Find your lost!
We spend time, yet we’ve bought nothing.

When suddenly, everything is nothing,
We scramble for the last bits of yesterday,
Till my birth, when I have none to remember,
Now, I’ve seen my fear painted, not by Hillary,
I’ve seen the world emptied without artillery,
I’ve seen the days in my fear, but not the end.

When suddenly, everything is a child,
Yes! The one who could see the mirror,
I’m bearded like Soyinka in the future,
I’m ugly like who again? No, not this guy!
But why? Where are my monies?
Is this wanting what I’ll never have?

When suddenly, there’s nothing,
When suddenly, a mirror turns spirit,
When suddenly, I need you to see me,
Now, I’ve seen my fear painted, not by Hillary,
When suddenly, everything is nothing,
When suddenly,  everything is a child,
I’m just a country without reflection.

By Chinedu Hardy Nwadike
Dedicated to Nigeria in the face of change.

This is Adaeze's Poetry World. WELCOME!: The Wrong Woman

This is Adaeze's Poetry World. WELCOME!: The Wrong Woman: I starred into space, I thought about her, I missed her, Unconsciously I painted a picture, A picture of her, A picture of the wrong woman. ...

The Wrong Woman

I starred into space,
I thought about her,
I missed her,
Unconsciously I painted a picture,
A picture of her,
A picture of the wrong woman.

I sat and wondered where the words had gone
They were simple words
But my tongue was tied, literally
Tied to her tongue,
The wrong tongue.

We kissed and rolled
Our bodies closer than Siamese twins
Our bodies dripping of sweat
With passion I held her body,
The wrong body.

She lay still,
Eyes tightly shut,
Lips sealed,
Just that smile,
That smile that welcomed me
After every infidelity.
I cheated on the wrong woman.

For many years I had ignored her
I had taken advantage of a good woman,
I observed her in the coffin
As she lay in state,
I failed to realise she was the right woman for me.
I cry for I was burying the wrong woman.


By:   Nonso Nwankwo

Sonnet of the Bread Hawker’s Baby

My vantage point, upon the tender petals
Of my young soul did indelibly mark,
Like heifers flesh branded with red-hot metal,
A sense of business, value, clear and stark.
While peers in Europe’s pushchairs had a vista
Broad with horizons of great means,
We Africans - I, my brother, my sister -
Beheld from mother’s back our glorious scenes.
More than just knees, buttocks and belts
From up there we saw customers assist
Her tray to the ground, pay, and duly help
It back upon her head as she’d persist
In pursuing for us a better living.

Today I repay her for all that giving

                               

                                                   by- Numero Unoma

                                                courtesy Abuja Literary Society

The Urchin’s Dance

Staring blankly

Into

Dainty doll house

A little girl dreams

Miniature teacups and saucers

Tiny pillows

The size of ‘Uncle’s” thumb

She knows

Wide-eyed she stares at them

Objects of her envy now

Sealed all round

Unfeeling

Safe from probing thumbs

A boy’s dread

In the cold abbey crypt

Young fingers forced on throbbing organs

Sheathed in pristine apparels

Hymns and canticles sonorous resound

Overhead from schoolboys’ lips

Seemingly unending like his grief

Unrelenting

Like his shame

At his passion

Stirred to serve another’s lust

Like his heart

Soiled by the sacred

Sacred yet soiled

He twirls and spins

45 dizzy seconds

Enough to make one puke

Not him

His stomach is empty

15 short seconds

He meanders through parked cars

Hands outstretched

to glasses wound

Up or down

With passengers

Smiling and unsmiling

He gets a nod here, a smile there

A  scowl here, some change here

Red, amber, green

He steps off the road

Breathless

Counts his change

120 seconds of green

And the urchin will dance again

(by Ulo Inyama)

courtesy- Abuja Literary Society 

off the Street

They wake up hungry every morning,

With no hope

Of what the future holds,

They have always been lonely and cold,

Nobody to hold them close,

They look tattered in these rags.

But these rags are all they’ve got,

Today is just another day they’ll have to survive,

Another day they will wish they are the ones

Going to school in these coloured uniforms,

Carrying fancy bags and loaded lunch box,

Wishing they are the ones going to learn the ABC’s and 123’s,

But when they try going to school,

They chase them back to the street,

Where they don’t belong,

People see them suffering everyday…

But they just ignore,

Leaving these poor kids all alone to fight this cold war,

Don’t just give them money for food,

Or change their cloths,

You can do more,

These are leaders of tomorrow,

Let’s make life right for them,

Let’s win this fight for them…

Let’s take them off the street!

(by Hamza Mayaki)

courtesy Abuja Literary Society

FOR ADAEZE

Adaeze-I have seen the pure truth.
With mine eyes have I seen it.
Your loving heart has danced on the pavement of my soul.
Your charming beauty has strolled across the corridors of my heart.

How can I forget the itch that drowned with a gentle touch- the touch of mine hands.
How can I forget the shining adornments of your braided hair?

 O how can I forget the spangling rings that defines the borders of your African ears, pierced atop and beneath?
And so he danced, a shameless dance of nakedness.

Out he came, one leg standing.
Beams of laughter caressed his face.. Singing gaily, I had seen the joy of childhood- when Azuka will poke my side- and together we would wrestle in the sand.
Dancing like a gazelle, full buttocks exposed.

Black bell dangling side to side.
Unashamed- the shameless joy of youth.


Snapp drink, snapping through my gullet,alcohol intensified, flowing through my vein.
Gentle legs slightly raised, revealing the blue garment that covered your honey pot.

O Adaeze joy of youth! Undying charm of the Igbo clan...In my heart may u safely rest

By- Dr Sabastine 

This is Adaeze's Poetry World, WELCOME!: DEAR SON

This is Adaeze's Poetry World, WELCOME!: DEAR SON: They say a woman's place is in the kitchen My little one, the woman's place I must correct is in nation building They have larg...

DEAR SON

They say a woman's place is in the kitchen

My little one, the woman's place I must correct is in nation building

They have large heart that care and mend broken fences

They possess ‎deep vision that sees beyond world spaces

And like a sage they nurture and bring up heroes

Dear son

You just might find this strange

Cos culture has taught you different

My little child, just look at world's real heroes 

and tell me their women's role

Then you can hang those myth on a pole

My dearest child

They told you a woman is weak

And she reasons like a fish

What they didn't tell you is 

She endures the 2nd most painful experience during delivery

Given our shabby health system

She often cheats death while birthing life

And she will do it over and over again‎ for world sake

My little one I may not know about gender

But I know about finders being keepers

If your find a woman that makes your heart beat

Be sure to support her and torch up her human gift

Like a flower,  she withers without care and blossoms with tending

Like a pillar she holds firm a building, ‎only if you make strong it's foundation

Like a root, she nourishes a tree‎ though sunk into deep dirt and mud

Give her the freedom to express herself

And you will find your crown in her

Make her aspire as far as birds can fly

And she shall make you an empire in the galaxy

Only a woman, knows to give from pain and love

Only her can help you reach your fullest sense of being.

Dreams Impossible

My nights are filled with dreams of

a mother holding me tight to her bosom and

covering my faces with warm kisses

My days are filled with wishes for

a father lifting and spinning

me high up in the air

And when my thoughts wander

I dream of having protective brothers and

lovely caring sisters and a pet or two

I dream of dreams that make

my friends say I’m crazy but I know there

are other dreamers like me out there

I dream of attending exotic schools and

becoming a doctor or an engineer or

someone important

I dream of fun adventures and

exciting holiday trips and

dreams known only to me

But most of all, I dream

of love and happiness and joy and

all those free emotions that you enjoy

I dream dreams… impossible dreams

(by Azizat Mohammed)

 courtesy Abuja Literary Society

NO APOLOGIES

I don't have to apologize for being a smart Alec
brimming with wisdom only god Zeus can comprehend
there will be no sorry for being me

a princess endowed by mother nature with all the curves and fullness of a woman
like a pretty Venus my eyes shines
like queen Moremi regaled
its Yemoja I'm modeled after


no apologies for being a queen of color
bronzed like the setting dusk
emerald after the rising sun
chiseled like Cleopatra
with dentiture carved like unto the African lioness


ask no apologies for my worth
silver weigh less than my virtue
gold still in deficit of my pride
rubies yet to measure my heritage
I am the daughter of Mormon goddess


wait not on apologies for  whom I love
like mars I’m taken to my kind
fashioned after the similitude of Sango and
I will never apologies for being me
with character glassed in transparency I'm built
and a mantra sculpted in humanity
I can never play your role
I can be better than no one but me

MY NAME IS NMA

My name is Nma 

Dad says my future is just like my name

I am 14 and full of hope

Hope that life would be better

Faith that my book would bring us butter

Aiming to get us all out of this gutter

Till the evil sting left my dream shattered

My name is Nma, I am 15

Wondering if my name will mean a thing

Asking why life hits me with pain to my bones

Taking the crown off my home

Leaving me bent Without a note

Our rickety throne will pass for broke

Clueless in murky mire‎ as death deals us blow

My name is Nma I'm still 15 

A'las the monarch has a lineage

Just like my father he says my name 

He reminded me my life could be like my name again

Savvy as a prime dame

Flawless like a China frame

With a smile that matches my brain

And then he swore it

That as my uncle

He pledged to see me  attain my goals

He vowed to help me reach the end on his own

Along came rosy and blissful days

Until that morning when night fell like a sword

As he forced himself and pierced my soul

My name is Nma I'm 16

My purity paid the debt to my ‎kinsman

My fault was believing my name was my charm

Smiling at all goodies he offered for school

He said my A1s ‎don't exist without his fortune

He was a collector, my scream only sent the wrong alarm

The world told me agreeing to meet  means I chose the harm

My name is Nma, now I'm 25

Private drinks are never welcome

A kind smile or help  is a turnoff

Gentlemen seem to me like a felon

A simple date means I say my name

A better choice means to stay away

If you ever wonder what my name is

Sometimes it means men are not welcome

My name is Nma

I am 25 and still finding me