THE JOURNEY

        

As I danced through life

Basking in the glow of the sun

Beaming in pride and glory

Of the slippery journey I had to stand

But walking it with the gait of a fearless Cat

Not betraying my fractured feelings

I met the ones whose grind it is

To engage my fears

Belabouring me with clog

My heart can't wheel

Telling a tale of fear, unleashing a weary myth

This, too I’ve learnt to subsist

On the same path I’ve met the kind

Not having plenteous fortune

But extravagant in good thought

Gracious in delightful confidence

Sharing grandiose smile

Gifted only by royals

Yet, on this lane, I’ve found comfort

In places where love seem forgotten

Beaten with pride by folks whose humility is masked in servitude

My mornings have been lazed in the warmth of unforgotten strangers

Where nights goodwill have been ransomed with venom of a cherished

A sarcasm my life have come to flatter

Strutting this street I've found fortune

Of good and bad, in kind and cruel

Given in portion, taken in whole

Making my life a conquest stump

In accepting loss, I've had to find

The good and great in all of me.

As I walk this track

I hope I leave, memories of love and glimmer of light

Dispel shadows of pain, and banish shame

Binding wounds, scored in treachery

While mending walls built in fear

Giving hope in place of doubt, offering peace that comforts the grieved.

PRAY

Let me cry till I'm spent

Let them be libation for the many dreams that  died before they had the chance to breathe

Let them suffice for the many times a war was not waged against the forces and words that said impossible

Let me drown with my tears

Painful regret

Of how seconds that became minutes

and minutes that became hours

and hours that became days

and days weeks

and weeks months

and months years

wasted seconds that could have borne great

Joy, growth, change, power,

Maybe some pain, maybe some sorrow

But memories - surely

Yes memories

Let these tears relive the many joyful

Exhume the heart wrenching  

buried alive

Let them all float to the surface

live alongside each other

In the present

While I

Ignore the best I can

Their constant badgering -

Reminders

Of innocence stolen

Of confidences betrayed

Of vengeance dealt

Of love....

Yes love

given, received, shared, denied

let me mourn the lie that marred my first sweet memory of love

That first kiss my sister said could cost me heaven

For I shared that moment and the pleasures of it's 'forbidden' bliss

The brightest of smiles lighting up my face

Then i must cry for the face

That had smiled only moments before my words sliced a heart open

Today let me cry him a river to wash away the pain

And to maybe comfort in some mystical way

My tears will speak truth it had not known

That the only thing worse than not reciprocating love

Is not accepting it as it was given

For love given freely

Though not enough for another

Is always complete in and of itself

Then i shall cry for myself

To accept all that I am

Rock and feather

Muse to one, poison to another

To accept crevices in me and the secrets I wish didn't lurk

Deep spaces where pain, greatness and grief make bedfellows

and fear and faith disagree on the winner of this mortal combat within me

Till my tears roll into my mouth

and I taste in them

A desire for rebirth

Pray Iet me cry

Ulo Inyama

MY NAME IS..

You could be all shades of good, bad and greatness. You could still be all sides of fear, courage and weak. But what you should never be is all forms of other people's label

So many times, we are told who we are and who we should be, ever before we ever have an idea of whom we really are. So many of us will never get a chance to find ourselves by ourselves, because, we have accepted the society's definition of us. Yet, it's conflicting, it's confusing and it’s holds us back from expressing ourselves clearly. We try hard to conform into people's view of us, we struggle to wear their label, so we stay accepted or can be wanted, and find it easy to deny ourselves the one true pleasure of finding who we are and living it. We are so used to living up to other people's standard that we have come to see our true worth as substandard and so we are that guy with no name. Because we are afraid that our own view of ourselves may never be good enough. We worry that whatever we discover of ourselves might be too strong to be ignored and may make us loose the people we desperately look up to for approval, or what we discover of ourselves may push us far ahead of our time, that we worry we may incur the wrath of those we look up to. So, we forget to live, we merely survive. Actually, what we do is float through life daily hanging on to a boat when we can sail a ship. We settle for less, when we can be the best.  Telling ourselves it's the most we can achieve. Whereas, it's just a convenient truth to prevent us from discovering who we really are, helping to express ourselves in our work, deeds and actions. We focus more on being accepted and forgetting to find ourselves, define our name and take chances that can help us soar to greatness.

When people ask what our name is, we turn out answering every other name given to us by people, other than the name we should call ourselves.

 If today someone ask what your name is, pause, reflect on it, choose your answer carefully and tell them that which you would truly want to be known by, then say confidently, my name is Adaeze C Nwankwo (insert your name) and I am a poet( insert what you do).

COUNTING

Counting not the losses that came

Numbering not the nightly cold and blisters

Mentioning not the broken promises and vows

Computing not the days of nays and pains

Including not the shocks and blows

Here are the numerals of light and love

I tabulate good fortunes that came as friends

Including intimacy that binds as family

Enumerating fondness of acquaintance smile

Totalling comfort sweetening my way

The one freedom that liberates me

Those 2 wishes of beautiful dawn and glorious dusk

The 3 spirits of life, love and living

The 4 dreams that make it count

And 5 times i stayed super lucky

I am counting not failures of intentions

But the blessings of pure thought

Remembering not the shunned voices

But the kind sound of truth and believe

Today I am counting my blessings

TO MY LITTLE ONE

Tomorrow feels dreadful
Now is hopeless
Dreaming feels like a joke
Expectations zaps like a smoke
Counting the stars in a roll
We wish light still for a goal


Dear little one
Today was meant to hurt
Your story had a pain
The tarry came from work
The labour a place of numb
The night should make a light

Dear little one
The numbers don't count for you
The script don't sing your tune
The book makes you the unknown
the pen is inked in this author
His journey he plots for crest

Dear little one
Predecessors didn't walk your lane
The forebears never bore your thorn
The many heroes that came through, 
took a turn fit for their destiny
So your voyage you captain and berth

 Dear little one

If I'm the light you were imaging
If I'm the icon you've mirrored
I want to tell my fails and my falls
That you may stumble but with courage rise
So your shame can turn to gain
And sorrows streams of love be.

Dear little one
Your journey, your victory be

SLOW DANCE

I've come to love this slow dance
 that waltz through my waist,
 down the pit between my thighs
 this sensual rhythm that snakes through the pit of my tummy
 the hollow in my navel
 gliding like a drunk on my ribs


 Oh goodness, I've come to yearn for this slow tune
 this tune that taps like rumba
 thumping the pulse of my heart
 begging each beat to beg harder harder
 stronger stronger
 this stroke that drives into my senses the taste of you
 the soul of your feelings
 the depth of your passion

 I've come to want this samba
 this gong sound that pounds my being
As your tongue glides through my lips playing rumba and salsa 
With the heaving of my boobs moaning a soft metallic Hallelujah
As your leg tango with mine

Oh how i love this slow dance

Choreographed just for us
This gentle worship of heart and soul
Sweet cooing and soulful lovemaking
Oh I've come to love this lazy love

HAPPY

Happy- the light he brings when he comes at night, the smile i feel deep when he hugs me tight, the cheers i get more when i win, the boost he gives  even when i fear.

Today- the wake that ends the easy life, the dawn that made the young an adult's worth, the truth that changed the smiles in constant pain, the walk that opened the lonely dusk, begin  the many first of endless whys.

Question- of past we wished had never been, of cause we hope a woke can tell, a light we try to dark on still, of secrets that hold the end of peace. Holding the thread of one last ray, to heal and beg the heart to mend, from hurt answers had dug even wide.

Faces-lost in times touch and endless flight, masked in pity, yet spur spite. for juggled memory for friend or foe, blurred in acts and unsaid beats, he took a double of all he gave, both in terror and comfort gift.

Chaos- finding calm in the rumble, screaming peace to the wreak of the past, making now the bacon of past flash, accepting what was, knowing in it what will has shaped, grateful for past, yet weary of future.


Beauty- of words and touch burning feelings, hearts that sparkle, illuminating our soul. a moment loved, a memory made, good or bad, a tale once sweet.  

LOST PIECE

I’ve waited for you to choose me
Asking that I be the scent you wear
But she remained the only scar you ever bore
You’re not allowed to take this piece apiece
this masterpiece won't rent you peace.
I’m not your trophy  
I won't be the sentence making you tense
this story has no coma of me, you can't question mark my feelings


Body fused yet heart refused
this emotion elude me
the pain, reduced me.
I can't wait your fear to try
I can't beg your will to do
your passionless will I hate
your faithless want I distaste

I can't wait your fear out
I won't hold my heart for another time
never pausing the rhythm a while more

You want me now, not another day
choose me here, never for later
Take my heart at this instance.
Never delay this fear and doubt.
Be it now, all my wants.
Be them now, all my desires.
If now you doubt, tomorrow ain't sure.
Then my love another day can't stay.
.
Don't be sorry
sorry is when i can't have you, taste you and feel your breath on mine
sorry is me willing my heart drum your name, my lips sing your dream, and my body slithe through your manliness.
Don't be sorry, cos this heart will choose again
This heart will beat passion, passion for him whose fear is beneath your dare.

WHERE WERE YOU?

The tree died today Ife
Not even the fierce wind could wake it from it's slumber
Even the mighty rain couldn't fill the deep hollow in it's heart

I called down storm, but it's rage weren't enough to convulse it back to life 

So tell me future, where were you when the dead wouldn't wake to the dirge?
When the melody made the bride irate and the newborn wouldn't cry?
Where were you when time stopped to beckon the old to bid goodbye to the new and the present wouldn't gift us a smile

Where were you when the masquerade danced in the market square, but couldn't  get the onlookers to watch, because only misery sells. Where were you when local fries became the dessert for palace dwellers while the hawkers feed fat from the aroma.

It was said that time makes all better,  that wounds will heal in time,and memories from sorrow can slowly fade. We weep still Ife, for the budget that never water our trees, for the ballot that didn't count in hospital, for manifestos that didn't teach our students morals nor our society truth.

So Ife, I am the M missing in the Asses. Today i join in solidarity to demand that the Masses take back their pride.

Say Yes

© Melanie

Published on June 25, 2016

Say yes, and we could surf the highest waves,
Your hand in mine, never losing faith.
We could climb Mt. Everest, and as we gasp for air,
You'll say you love me,
And I you.

We could do handstands in the sky,
And you'll catch me when I fall.
I'll take you to the stars and leave you in utter awe.
And though standing on a comet with you is absolutely reckless,
Loving you is even more so; but I'm happily helpless.

Say yes, and some days will be not only spring,
But we will endure the harsh days winter will bring.
Together we will face somber rainy days,
But with you by my side we can wait for summer's sunny rays.
We will know what makes each other cringe,
But hey, we'll take it inch by inch.

And though some days you will be too tired to fly with me,
I will heal your broken wings.
'Cause our love will exceed that of the highest degree,
And we will take willingly what life brings.
So say yes,
And take my hand; we will learn to tango.
Every step we will master.

Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/say-yes

WHAT BROKE YOU?

Was it the love taken and not given
The kindness sent that never returned
Tell me if it were the sweetness of the many laughter and sunshine he radiates around
Making luminous the simple 
Sparkling the bland and warming the glaciers of your heart

What broke you my darling? Tell me.
Was it the waiting for him to sort his feelings?
The confusion from uncertain vibe of what if, when if and how if?
Is it the unspoken truce between your hearts, knowing it will never be?
Certain that the wait will fade, surety that time won't tell.
Was it the icy silence, cold shoulder, gentle message from his reversed feelings that left you lonely and lost in the wait only you fear?

Sure it wasn't that he voiced it? Say it or gave it a word.
Maybe, it was in his not admitting it, not sounding it and never letting you understand, yet meaning it.

What broke you little cherub?
Was it the last act, showing you that love wasn't enough, passion weren't worth it, and trying for days to please him wouldn't change a thing?
Tell me, the gentle hands couldn't calm your nerves, soothe your frayed muscle and help quiet the raging noise in your head.

What broke you my heart?
I hear you reply, it's the pieces that walked away when I finally accepted I'm broken.

REDEFINING FAILURE

Failure they say can be frustrating, catastrophic, devastating, painful or hard to overcome. After falling or foundering, failure makes us doubt ourselves, question our past success like it is beginners luck and may make it harder for us to attempt at a single thing again.

Writing this piece as the year wound up, is so testing, because, I have had to take stock of the year, look at challenges faced, ask pertinent questions on why I failed and seek answers to what went wrong.

I could blame the world and everyone for one fault or the other, I could point a finger at the economy, the incompetence of vendors, the unprofessional behaviour of workers, lack of deeper knowledge of the said project, over reliance on experts etc. But, the failure will still boil down to me. It was my decision to vet and re-vet because the buck stops on my table. Yet, here I am, refusing to accept that the year was a total failure. There were lessons learnt. What then are the lessons?

I learnt that people most times need to be pushed to do their job. I learnt that, workers hush their problems a lot and find it hard to share. I learnt that, you need to monitor projects and demand accountability. I learnt that, you have to test work ethics, even if they 'contractors' are termed professionals before you commit to them. I learnt that a proper contract must define proper plans for execution, fines for breaching contract in any guise, and reward for excellence. I learnt that, friendship doesn't always translate to trust and honesty in business. I learnt that the ultimate lesson is me accepting my own fault in the failure and making certain it never happens again. I learnt that you can start again.

So, like everyone else, I am scared of trying again, I am terrified of giving this one more shot, I am so ashamed to admit I don't even want to look back at this mis-step. But you see, some dreams are way bigger than our fears, and our passion larger than our failures. So, I am giving it a shot again. I am re-strategizing, and I am conquering the coming year, and you are welcome to join me in this redefinition party, because you too can redefine your failure rather than let it redefine you..

Here's to redefining our failures.

                                                 WEAR THIS BADGE

I wear this smile to remind me of  the many frown caused by the questions, How dare you, How can you, Who do you think you are? Stay in your lane. You're just a girl.

This gait of mine ,this spring in my feet, this bounce you see,   is the response from many slouched shoulder, forlorn face, downcast heart, broken dreams and chattered vision gotten from  being reminded I'm just a dreamer and little pussy whose only assets are the 2 pieces of oranges on her chest and the cherry hole in between her legs. You're just a woman he says, stay in your lane.

This code you have etched on my psyche has become the very reason, I re-write my story. I retell my future better than my past. It's the fuel burning the fury in me, helping me draw a compass of where I'm headed, all I wanted and the Royalty I have created

This very scar has become my badge of honour, though gotten from the many pains inflicted from your whip and your venomous spittle, is now my gain to inspire others, make them fighters to break down the walls your kind have erected around them.

I will wear this memory no more with regrets, but with the pride only a warrior can muster, knowing the many oceans of tragedy that tried to drown my voice, but ended helping me find my sound.

I shall adorn this badge as an insignia of the countless battle I won, to conquer the thought of you holding me bound to  prisons of my mind. I shall fly this honour like a hero whose victory the world must sing, the crowd must cheer and the audience must applaud.

I will wear this badge so my tale become their hope, my story inspire their resolve and my triumph their waiting crown.

I shall wear this badge so someday you can become you.

TOO MUCH A WOMAN

Too intelligent to be a woman
You  worry I know too much, laugh too much, breathe too much
 Yet I'm the comfort you seek to calm you after the liquor.  
I can't be just too loud, too flashy to be a woman.
The one you want is calm, too soft and too girly to be your dame. 
If I ever show bravery in fearful choices, insisting I want a head,
You whisper and worship at my holy alter in private, but squirm around your friends
That I can't be wifed and owned, yet if I choose to be blond on sex moves, I become a bore whom you can only have to progress your fatherhood, and off you go to whore another, who guides your manliness through her debauchery.

 I can't be all so smart, too smiley and caring
Caring means I'm all just flirty, much so if I give your friends a gratuitous peck.
When i give cold shoulder, stern look and serious face,
You choose the booty call chic to host your legions.
When I aspire you just perspire,
My ambition makes yours expire
Riding hire shouldn't reduce your power.
 Climbing your hills, will require my heels.

It's not my submission you seek, cos you get it.
It's not attention you want, cos I give it.
Not looks of a peacock
Never the calm of a dove
It's the Lordship you seek to wield alone,
The whip you yearn to tear my flesh.
The fear you hope i paint on my face
 And the many dare you wish my heart will never air

I pray you my equality is not to scare
I promise you this queen your kingdom care
I vow my heart is yours to take
I swear your place is just the same
Never lower or lesser in being a man
But better and stronger in having me
Don't make me the subject of your master-doom
I'll forever worship at this love altar

I AM NOT A WRITER

Here is the thing, I’m not a writer. But, you see, the one thing that has not increased in the market yet is the cost of data. It means, gossip is cheaper to get than buying a module of Garri in the market. Don't ask me how.  I just know i can do a billion and one thing just with my data. I can watsapp one Uncle John to raise me small change for lunch and still find time to read what twitter overlords think of "I am for everybody, I belong to no one".  How can you ask my opinion on plagiarism, when the handouts I buy in school doesn't reference any source. My dear, I don't know how that plagiarism thing works too. But i can tell you how i follow some people on twitter who manage to convince me that voting a particular party in the past means I know what's-up and are quick to condemn anyone who outlines the ill of the policies that are hurting the common man. well, you can say I'm not common, after all, i can still afford data to tweet.  don't be vex

Oh, Data feel like the cheapest gift for recession, considering that no one wants to go on a date no more, but we can have virtual sex. don't look at me like that. If we have to go out, it means burning fuel, say you have a movie date, you pay for the tickets, then you buy pop corn and soda, oh, let's say the chic is nice you spend cash just like that. if she were to be a little mean, you will have to worry about take away packs and a little something for her friends or siblings. so you see, Data makes sex easy, cheaper and accessible. that my dear is the awoof from data.

Among the many cheap things my Data can afford me is LIB. you see, you want to stay in touch with your youthful self, one has to keep up with trend and happenings among celebrity because we all aspire to be one someday. though a few will become it by being twitter overlord, while some will get there by being anti-GEJ or pro whatever, a few of us.. well, we just get there by wishing it. so, since we can't pay for DSTV subscription to keep up with the Kardashians, we will follow LIB to know who broke up with who, and who wore what, so when we talk about those fashion and divorce stories with our friends, we will sound posh and well informed, they will think Khloe is our personal friend from the gist we share. never minding that some of us have never seen the interior of a plane before. my dear, its cheap to own a data,data makes you sound intelligent. yes, our young ones don't want to know who won the Cowbellpeadia,, oh, that's so boring. we want to know, who the judge on project fame is, how many people made it to the finals of THE VIOCE, haaa. its not like the Nigerian economy is not bad, its just that you have to know these things, how else can you talk about change, if you don't tune in to Channels once a while and listen to more insult form the spokes person of each party? data is affordable, if you don't see it on channels, just follow the thread on twitter, there will be a hash tag to let you know what burning issue is up, from reading the long thread you can give yourself an ankle sprain by jumping into conclusion. Never minding that these people you defend, don't even care you exist. It’s alright, data price is still constant, cos’ you can avoid going to church on Sunday, twitter ministries is functioning perfectly, you can know the sermon of the day by checking one of your Church member's tweet, if you want a fresh anointing, just follow any of the twitter end time church, they will give a fresh wisdom, that will make this recession feel like a joke. they will speak to your week, command your day and bring forth your month unto greatness. Sunday worship on twitter has never been better. forget that you were in the club all through Saturday night, don't get ticked that, the girl you shagged last night if your fiancée’s sister, a fresh anointing from the tweet has a way of making twitter worship holy. my dear, DATA is still cheap. how else could you have been able to save you offering and transportation fare if twitter doesn't give you a chance to cheaper worship.

my data also affords me a chance to see things i would normally not here or know about, like this competition I’m applying for. i get a chance to write, at least it relieves me of the many worries of Nigeria economic recession and whores. i just type away, talk about politician, curse out rapist and even join any hash tag i may or may not understand. no complaint there. I am not a writer.

RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW

I expect nothing short of excellence from myself daily.
Tomorrow was a today, delayed yesterday. 

There was a yesterday when all we thought of was what we will become tomorrow, how we will buy ourselves the finest of cars, further our education, be a better us and all. Yet we all live in a today and never do anything to fulfil the promises we made yesterday.

So here is the catch, you are here now. you have a today, use it. We have no control over tomorrow, don't sweat it. You probably think you need a pay raise before you can start saving or investing, there is no such thing as a raise to save. It's a habit you have  to cultivate, you must culture your mind to do them with what you already earn. If you have not started, even with the pay raise, it will still be hard to save or invest.

Mostimes, lack of discipline makes one spend more even with the pay raise. so start here, right now. for all the times you dreams, have an actionable plan, start with what you have, be who you have always dreamt of today. Take step that leads you closer to your goals, stop waiting for a tomorrow, start you tomorrow today. make everything you do today geared towards your tomorrow

Tomorrow only comes, when we start doing today. if you want to be the greatest dad, mum or best actor, writer, inventor or any great somebody tomorrow, you have to start right here, right now.

CHURCH THERAPY

welcome to the spiritual asylum

where healing sells for all ailment
treatable or not
where annoiting oil are purchased to cleanse the husband of promiscuity and prevent the wife from going insane due to her husband's cheating and lying lifestyle. This special shelter where holy water cures you of all diseases, mental, social and veneral diseases.

This one shop where the cassock guy is the psychologist who knows to councel for turbulent marriage, even though he has never been engaged and his vows might never let him, yet, if he where, his, is a cosmetic marital bliss that must perform for the camera,  match make for ageing spinters, not forgetting to give birth plan for women termed barren, since fertilty doctors never have the solution to your being unproductive.

Is it the white handkerchief that has refused to make that sickle cell child  genotype become an AA? Why does this therapy alleviate the suffering of the politicians, inflate the ego of the nouveaux rich whose source of wealth is corruption, yet the poors tithe and offering maketh only the man of God wealthier?

Oh, maybe the sessions during weekday service,proscribed a certain treatment, fasting and seeding, and you were too weak to foĺlow through. since ulcer has never been nice to you. and your meagre salary has so many mouths to cater to, that's why you are still in the rat race Bro. Less i forget, that special pamphlet you bought, which was blessed by the man of God, will finally make your aged mother confess how she nailed your destiny to the coffin, it doesn't matter that been senile could be signs of Alzheimer, dementia or other ageing related ailment. Nah, it must be God punishing her for tying your wife's womb and locking your sister forever in spinterhood, but it's ok. She will eventually get tired of the verbal abuse and confess, so she can have her peace. Better still, she will die for your destiny to ressurect, that is what mothers do for their children.

Let me not spoil the fun. there was testimony of how sister Nkechi survived A motor accident from our blood sucking demons on our nicely tarred highway. She left out the part where the driver was drunk before the journey began, she didn't tell you also, how no one complained about the overloaded vehicle, since it's a normal occurance in Nigeira. How about the road safety agents they gave N200 on the road so they can pass without much fuss? And our ready and equiped emergency medical response team who where there to save other accident victim.you know those i mean. the ones who search the pockets of dying victims for fast cash,those medical guy that move already broken bones about, trying to get you out of the car thereby fracturing your already broken rib and spine the more, after all they are sympatisers, lack of first aid knowledge should not be a deterrant. Common,your pastor's prayer delivered you from occult spirit occupying the road. since pot holes are nice to our new cars, been a tokunbo doesn't reduce its efficiency. And hey! all those contracts awarded to fix the road,create more lanes wouldn't have solved or reduced road accidents, neither will drivers going to a training school help, after all, all those diverted fund will pay some tithes and seed or mortgage a contractor's own death through the all powerful prayers of the prophet. It was just all the miracle in your pastor's prayer.

 Let me add, your unintelligent children need divine help, not more quality study time. No please, take them to the mountain where special prayers treat their depression. If someone ever suggest you meet an academic counselor to guide them in career choice or help monitor why they bahave the way they do, attribute it to your enemies of progress. I am not saying bullying in schools are not real, as a matter of fact it's not possbile that teenage complex could be a thing she is dealing with, How can it be? When your enemies can fall down and die, never to find that child acting out abnormally again. If she as much as score a D in her exam. you must intensify the vigil, you don't need to find reasonale solutuions, be it increasing your study time, paying attention to their emotional needs and helping them find other source of knowledge they enjoy. Your God must deliver you, so, your Bishop therapist has procliamed from the alter.

Let's tone it down a bit. When was the last time you exercised? Haaa! "daily nah" you do it singing and dancing, jumping and screaming while praying and praising. Was that not part of the therapy the doctor pastor recommended? It's fine even if the noise keeps other neighbors awake, you need to send evil spirit in your neighborhood parking. If peace cost them their health, that is how you know witches, they must move out to a more serene environment for you.  If they suffer from insomnia, it is more because marine spirit disturb their nights, your prayers and loud music doesn't aggravate it, it only expose their nocturnal activities. Oh I'm not suggesting your worship centers be sound proof and your theatrics be contained. No, please your God is deaf and very much blind, that he can't hear or see this drama unless it's loud enough. While there be hospitals around you and schools where students need to concentrate and sick folks get a quiet space, make your mid day service louder and your megaphone bigger. You are doing us all a favour by seeking your God at his productive hour on everyone else's behalf.  Praying off their sicknesses and unsettling the students ignorace is how great nations are built.

Let me not belabor you with my not so intelligent rambling. you see, whatever your daddy G.O has said has the ultimate say. Any other rational and logical solution will be a "touch not my annointed" matter.
while we finally wait for the church goers to take on our pbulic offices, because the ones there right now are atheist, ( that's why Nigeria is not progressing) to change our messed up institutions, revamp our ailing economy. let me and i'm not so sure wannabe atheist go and find a bible believing church to heal me of my NCD (Not Church Disorder) pshycho
someone recommend a God of man. because I can't afford the cost of a man of God.

CONTINENTAL LOVE

I will tell you about this distant emotions

budding from continents untold

shading my heart dancing in motions

with beauty only my soul can feel

though, we are worlds apart

yet I feel so close in your space and measure

this beat you pound in my heart

I will dance to

let me tell you about that one touch

that has flushed my cheeks with smile

wishing my legs could pull apart

as our distance knows no bound

this love that has defied tongue and language

taking a voyage across the lakes

soaring above time zones and hills 
only us can see

allow me moan about the pillow talk

that pillow we both built in hush wishes,

gentle longings, that our bodies dream, 

panting for your eyes to pierce through

 beautiful boobs.

wanting the feel of your European lips

glazzed in the Asian meal you devour

upon my feminine garden made by Mama Africa

Just listen to my longing tale

of how of you made time froze

only to bring me the mood of the continent

where the love that never sleeps make the sun rise

seeping the coolness of your affection through my bones

running this fire through my spine

oh dear one from afar, 

the world needs to hear how you make me

soar far beyond the land of cupid

my only rue is this distance left for contact

yet ill love you still till the world fades

BECOMING ME

Blend in, don’t stand out, I want to be like “them”

It’s how you don't get a label or tag

it's the way not to be “them” and loose your place

"Them" those from the far away land

Wandering beyond their reach for breech

Searching for bread and gold to feed

so a hero's home coming might  sound their gong.

Bet they tag you still

The one who feast on stones without gulping drink

My ilk tell me they are the ones

With oil running soup

They love me when I act like them

They jeer when I become my own

Yet my own feel I’m not kin enough

That I lack the brute to bash and brash

the sleek skin and glitz to glide my trough.

Still across the Niger, home doesn't feel like home

The best i get is a museum cheer

Like a dainty doll they stroke and coo

My complexion a wonder, my dress a blunder

This doll whose ways is not our rule

Whose walk like rebel may not be tamed

I long to echo them, but sound like another bell.

My identity was formed from the Babel sounds

 I hear image of loudness and uncouth talk

I tasted a sort from my native sand

But fell short of their custom 'cos I smelt of those from hither land

Not having the accent from nwa'ani

Too free to be us, to open to become us

Never fed in our ways so can't walk our path.

Do they know I bask in news of them?

Dancing when they break new strides

Sad when i feel them broken

I’m fast to defend their stance and depth

Easily tilted to their want, yet trying hard to be those ones

Even my silence is heard amigst those others

Yet not acknowledged amongst my own.

Then came a day the mirror spoke

You are you and not their tag

Your label is what you design and sell

Show your wit and be your own

Know you daily, make you merry

You are made in all colours of them

If they ever look in those shattered mirror

They will identify their faces in all of you.

I stop chasing them, started knowing me

In knowing, i became a more loving me.