February

In the month of the pearl, we became
With pride and tears, it was no shame
The melting snow birthed new frozen droplets
Our rites of passage we marked, in our pockets

There was innocence and the loss of it
And yes, another to show for it
Some said it was just one more dawn
You swore this was no ordinary fawn

Sometimes they say we’re incomplete
I say, “spare me the conceit”
They say our days don’t meet the measure
You say, “life is too much, not to treasure”

The blind man is truly king
He flies to climes of which some only sing
They focus on nothing – their distractions
He climbs to his summit, in little fractions

This is my February, my becoming
It’s nothing, perhaps, just my morning
I see with new eyes – it’s an awakening
I’m born de novo – afresh enlivening

Last Night

Last night, I dreamed a dream
There were much-anticipated holidays
Promises kept of a treat and
A much-needed school-less break
Of settings out and a looking-forward- to
Of stopovers and eating out
At Ìbàdàn, Ǭrḝ and Benin-City
Of intermittent endings and beginnings
The familiar smell of Aunty Miriam
And favourite cousins
Oh the pranks we played!
We all came off unscathed
Save for one or two or three
Or more
Their memories linger
We remember every now and then

And when we approached Nkwo-Orodo
At dusk
We knew the journey was almost over
But also only just begun
There was the promise of palm wine
A few days of Erosu,
The early morning sweeping of our Mbara-ezi
The prime chore of our freshly-tied palm- frond brooms
Did we not have our fill of the 5-day old Akpu
My grandma’s specialty that never disappointed?
Ha! Quiet afternoons saw us exacting vengeance
On helpless palm kernels
Strengthening our tender gums and teeth
The only way we knew to
And while we played away
Not too distant serpents affirmed their presence

Sometimes, the nights were eerie
But when they were not
We’d be at the base of the fire
Roasting away Nkwu – a wholesome evening treat
The nights were always dark
As Okwu-Orodo was yet not on the map
And NEPA knew not of its being
God’s light was our light
And grandpa laced it with every tale he knew
His was a gift eternal
He told them with love and pride and heart
It is the reason why
I dream dreams
These are my roots, deeply entrenched
It is my story, my source
And were it not, I would be not.

Fresh Perspectives

Another prayer answered
Another cause for thanks
Another prayer to say and
Another cause for faith

And even though the times don’t smile
They will eventually
There’s none that ever stays the same
Except the Timeless One

Here right now is fresh perspective
I’m done looking behind
I’ve chewed the cud too long it hurts
It’s time to start anew

silent screams 

today
again, I lose the battle
against
what is and what should be
this
penury of courage 
leaves me
wanting, I can’t start over
the end
comes upon me 
like
the rushing east wind
and
seizes all strength 
yes
banishes hope to the gallows
my 
silence screams
the object 
of my fear taunts me ceaselessly
and 
i die a thousand times 
and
i’d rather not rise again
for
the pain of rising
is
greater than the thrill of it
don’t 
try to smooth-talk me
or
say it’s going to be fine
or
 try to pick me a rose
or 
say tomorrow will be better 
we both
know where today ends
indeed 
our veils of innocence
were
lifted ahead of their time. 

A desperate limerick

☺This is a desperate attempt at a Limerick. It could be lots better but I’m sending this out any way:mrgreen:

Desperate Limerick
Things o’er which I cannot gloss
I try to change ‘cos I’m the “boss”
Obsessed with being in control
Sometimes I just forget to roll
And end up all day being cross!

Calle Fuente Alegre

The hour came
When we descended
The belly of our big avian cradle
Grateful for this one more favor
And the warmth of a May sun

We waded our way through the fringes
Winding and twisting to this new tale
Of a most beautiful city
Nestled daintily along the Coast of the Sun
Somewhere I never dreamed of

At the end of the road stood, to me
A most majestic mountain
First there was nothing
Then there was everything
How can I forget – the tail of Calle Fuente Alegre