Soliloquy III

While in school I was king; At my door lasses would sing, But now that only memories ring, Even the homely refuses to cling. I hear not the ticking of clock, Long enough alone in my block, Write and read, evening on a walk, Still unsung, no dame would knock I cannot love two at…

ARTISTS’ DESPAIR

Art is the voice of Nature; history is her tale; poetry is her song; politics is her language; love is her silence, for love, when spoken by Nature is always very quiet, unless frustrated. Happiness is the prize Nature gives to whomever unquestioningly understands her. Sorrow is the spell Nature casts on anyone who is…

LUCY, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

Oh yes! Caesars have offered their daughters, but I was never like those busters. Pharaohs have invited me to dine so that a princess would be mine. They would march in nine to twist and whine, but I’ve suspected, marrying an Egyptian isn’t at all my line. So I went to my mother’s town, but…

WHAT WE’RE LOOKING FOR

For millions, it’s money. For thousands, it’s entertainment. For hundreds, it’s spirituality or science or art. For scores, it’s identity. What our souls yearn for; what fulfilment portends to us, differ, based on geographical, genetic, racial and psychological differences. Many find what they seek; many, never will they find, but death which shall seal their…

Soliloquy II

Day dawned not nice in me pockets And I have feelings for Wura But dame flaunts her anklets Alongside her friend, Aurora. Folks fuel me after the señora So I dress nice to rich banquets My modern Sodom and Gomorrah From which I return in caskets. Friends assure my skills are enough To attract any…

DEAR LUCY,

You came when I gave up on love like an angel from above. When you said you’ll be my wife, laughter filled my life, but who knew that life wields a knife, instead of marriage, now we have a strife. You shouldn’t have called me baby when you knew you wouldn’t be my lady. Our…

THE OGOID WAR (First Cry)

I was lonely for so long, surviving on memories of beautiful days past. I could choose to hate, or like so many, lie, but I looked not with my flesh but with my heart; I loved sincerely and that was my sin, all my reasons to smile turned reasons to brood. It wasn’t her fault,…

​FROM PORT HARCOURT WITH LOVE

Dear Lord eBay, unlike you, I find my expressions rather difficult to put into words but as you’ve told me once, a beginner should let her heart do the writing and stand out of its way. That is what I intend to do now. I pray the effort prevails! eBay, do you practise voodoo? Seriously,…

Untitled Eulogy

Love, only in stories had been a thing of solidness to me, and disgusting it was to me the sight of men crying for ladies in the panorama of electric boxes until like them, I met my doom clothed in femininity, elegance and beauty when I least expected and I never remained the same. When…

GITTY LIKE (Part 7 of 7)

Charles shove the magazine aside and called on John. He came wiping sleepiness off his face. “The girl is not picking my calls, what shall we do?” Charles asked. “Ah,” John took a seat and gazed at the ceiling for a moment, then at Charles. “Boss, I don’t think this girl is interested o,” he…

GITTY LIKE (Part 6 of 7)

There are two phases in unmarried women’s lives, the first phase is when they’re run after by boys, making the girls feel like celebrities; choosy and proud. The second phase is when, having grown older, ripe for marriage but still single, they foray out in search of boys in whose hands they could craftily place…

GITTY LIKE (Part 5 of 7)

Mathew guffawed over his phone screen. He lurched out of his bed excitedly and dashed to the living room where his friends were. “Guys, I no fit laugh alone o,” he chuckled. “Come see wetin the yeye girl don post for Facebook.” They circled around the phone and one of them read it aloud. “Men…