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Monthly Archives: December 2013

Tales Of A Wife: First Daughter Of A King (Adaobi)

She’s fair and tagged yellow paw-paw
She has got this spark of the smiling sun
If you aren’t a Pope please pile your eyes
With the way she poses, she isn’t a slip-up
Indeed there is no other name to reveal
She is that love note of no oppose
A conviction for the power of gorgeousness
Beating deep within somewhere at the front of the back.
Succulent like cucumber between the moving jaws
She sends men fishing like the tribe of Ijaw
Mummy’s baby, Daddy’s daughter
The beautiful Aniocha child
First daughter of a King – Adaobi
Every lip confesses.

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Last Designation: Chola

If you’ve known her when she was four,
The sound you hear from the floor,
Shouldn’t surprise you even as you fall…
I think I was ten then but believe me you
Steve Wonder would
See the loveliness in this sister named a star…

Don’t Call Me Mad : Who am I?

Most days I feel
I am the
Only one on
The hot seat
And Judges
Throwing back
To me a Flashback
Of the life
While I live.

Dark as a coal
If an angel could
Curiously
I am but human
Most days I feel
I am the
Only one on
Alive alongside
Digital images.

But what if ’tis true?
Most days I wonder
Has He ever
Been called her?
Eagle displaces a dove
But the beauty of the globe
Created by him above
Painted them black in gold
By its tar tempting stove.

Aside faith be empirical
Can a religious leader
Say the true religion?
Hey! preacher
Don’t take my hard earn kobo
As a trickier
To become a naira richer
“You blasphemy” !!
Sharap! I politely tell back

I only wish I could
Fake a smile
I just hope
Mother earth
Isn’t messing with me
As an experimental material
While finding
the best human
For earth.

Most days I feel
I’m not me you know,
This body I dwell
Doesn’t have no say
But I wish I could
Jump-off and stare
Without a slant
It’s ways, for
I don’t know- Who I am.

Don’t Call Me Mad : Unanswered

Most days I feel
Like I am
I
Moving and breathing
But high
Eating and growing
Seeing not my eye
Talking words that don’t rewind
We all do.

While trying to find out
Certain answers to
Certain questions
In my front of my thought
It seems as tho’
I’m bout’ to breach a code
God’s very own
Who am I?
Most days I feel

’tis like identifying my shadow
In midst of the dark
Who made me
Who is who
That made who
That made who…
What an exponential question
Ha!; don’t call me mad
Whenever I scream

Don’t Call Me Mad : Drunk in Faith

Some days I wish I could
Trans-migrate my soul
Where exactly to port
That I don’t know
Well;
I can explain what I feel
But dare not ask
Because I can’t; only to myself.

Lager Out! Life
Life life
Is it intriguing
Going
Around cycles
Psyching
Brains
’tisn’t bored there

Yet
You don’t wish
To go to
That place
You so
Preach about
When death announces
When to visit.

Sometimes I feel
Small animals
Consider us gods
Whereas we
Are not and
Don’t know
Who he is
Sometimes I feel like

Screaming all day
Lemme just enjoy
’tis liquor; Palm-wine
Greet me, shall share
But call not my Ozu, “sap”
Or me bad
For I’m only drinking that
God has created.

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