JOURNEY OF THE CROOKED PATHS In the southern ibid tale There is tinder like flax That neither leaves the hearth cold Nor cooks the broth, as told. The bamboo said “straight is the path” So I sailed straight into your face And was betrayed by smiles That gleams and beckons to the flash But seldom … Continue reading Journey Of The Crooked Path
THE WAIT I.) Wait for me! Tarry, Mon Diamanté For it’s a long journey- Across jagged rocks of despair- To the oasis of sweats. I am on the roads, At the junction of hearts. I drive in haste But love is a snail. Wait while I come to thee. II.) You must wait- when I … Continue reading The Wait
A WORD’S WORTH I. A story, a tale, a life. II. Your word- a story; Your worth in life. III. In words we trust For money is words; Money: our worth. IV. It’s neither in the flow of lyres Nor velvet vocodes of songs What matters to you breathes the stick, In matters- more important … Continue reading A Word’s Worth
CARELESS EMOTIONS * The sinews of my heart are taut again- Will it break? Or slackened into chords of ruptured fibre- Will it hold? My emotions have dissolved into your own- Will I drown? Or sail on perpetual seas of enamored feels- Will the storms pass? Even as I bemoan calm and tide- Will I … Continue reading CAN I [Careless Emotions]
I’m sorry I hate you. I hate you ‘cos you made me this way… I hate you cos you stole my joy and left a bleeding soul. I hate you ‘cos you never cared to mould me. I hate you ‘cos I don’t know how to love you. I sought your love, and hell was … Continue reading I’m Sorry I Hate You.
Who was the first African To export deadly disease across Africa? Who was the eminent personality At the point of eternity Who denied contact with the dead? Who made martyrs of our best And killed Adadevoh as a guest? Was he a Liberian? Or an African American? Who knows? Of a man Who Pulled his … Continue reading #Ebola – Historical Details
From the restive And riverine terrains Of Okorenkoko And Oghulagha To the religious And Saharaic sands Of Sokoto And Daura. From those Hidden bunkers In the East To the great rocks Of Olumo and Idanre On the other side… And round about Is our country soiled. Soiled with the flow Of fresh red blood. And … Continue reading Blood
Suddenly it looks misty and cloudy. A miasma of our duplicitous past Is hanging over the Niger. Blowing down from the polar. It looks like rain again. Rain again, Whoever wants it to rain again. Who is it that taught you Such mendacity: You were “born to rule”? Whoever lied to you that The more … Continue reading Misty Clouds