|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
QUESTIONS OF BALANCE: A JEREMIAD
Why is it at 70 politicians are still underage
To assume political offices
And at 30 youths are overage to begin a professional career?
What divine strength hath a leader at 75
When a mandatory retirement awaits civil servants at 65?
Why should the government empowers the youths with $75 in 2 years
And expects them all to have own businesses
But civil servants who earn over $300 per month in 30 years
Are finding it difficult to own a garden or a store?
How is it our politicians could expend billions
To defect, campaign and give kickbacks
But would wait until the World Bank borrows them some millions
To provide a borewell drinking water?
How can they say the national treasury has collapsed to employment
Yet billions are looted and millions wasted on foreign fantasies?
Why should the achievement of our political endorsement
Be signed to MOUs as though we lack understanding?
Why should our lawmakers make laws that hound the masses
And not against their own chronic excesses and excuses?
Why should the wealthy politician vote a project for the poor
Assigned the execution of the project to himself and loot the funds?
Why do our lawmakers never make laws to free the masses
From poverty and political swindlers?
Why should the agency that fights corruption be corrupt?
Why should gluttons preside over the meager meals of the masses?
Why should the leader not serve today and the servant lead tomorrow?
Why should professional bandits be our bankers?
Why should 5% of public servants consume 60% of the nation’s wealth?
Why should a politician be a party leader, counsellor, chairman, governor, senator… still desperate to lead
And all behind his trails are poverty and anguish?
Why should a politician with obscene wealth hidden somewhere
Tell his people that their poverty and problem is Hausa, Igbo, Christian, Muslim, APC, PDP…?
And why is our nation over-laboured by multiplets of cultural, social
Political, religious questions awaiting caesarean responses?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind!
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
IN PRAISE OF BEAUTY
O beauty allure, beauty of the hyacinth
Doused by wailing drops of dew shroud
And pierced by the radiant shaft of heaven,
Through the rituals of purity
To tread the virginal soil of Venus.
O like the scenery
Of the splendid garden of Aphrodite,
With Pageantry, the art of Pothos and Himeros,
The pearly dross most sought after
Like a wand that spelled all the eyes of men.
Dazzling aurorae shimmering in deep shadows;
Figure beholding of the twinkling crown Andromeda.
Sunrise awakening the greenery;
Ascending furrowed amber terrain of
The gloaming by the countryside!
Habendum et tenedum!
Before the lily white altar an avowal
Of chastity and tranquility enshrined;
On feather quilted bed day and night
With love elixir soothing the body and the soul!
Soul melody in diatonic harmony of
Meshed contralto with resonating baritone.
Swell the homophonic rhythm of Azande
As the pitch from my lips wear and decline
And the tempo of my heart increase!
Scented lavender wafting through subtle air;
Aromatic morning of rose bathed with dew
That transports the mind beyond earthly realm
And capture the heart at whim
Lost in imagination of the form and frame.
Culinary variety spread in romantic atmosphere
In candlelight banquet of cream and crimson;
Sheer delicacy, man’s greatest savour
Whose delights subsist even in her absence;
Whose substance transcends life’s ideal!
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
The body summons the soul
And together they commune
With breathe of burning ardour...
Compose baritone in concordance
Of larghetto soprano….
Mesh with pulsating beat
Of Deep throbbing heart
Possess by rhapsodic Afro-juju spirit…
And the world comes to a stand still
Listening…!
The moon jigs her backside
And tilts the mass of the basin fluid…
Lento ascend the euphonic resonance…!
The earth quake and tear apart
As the river washes body and soul
And discharge into the hollow emptiness
Of her moist pit…
All dead… and the world moves again!
(….Just imagining).
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
I speak native tongue
From the lees heart of
The keg and palm tree
In the kukuruku forest
To be suffuse with
The spirit of Anwu.
Dum dum gbidi gbom
Basks my body in
Drum beats of Egungun
In the black tropical grove.
Talking drum that
Speak words from my mind
With the pulse of Orishe.
I eat only dry meat
That fills the mouth.
Give me oil and salt
To consume my cocoyam,
I shall offer you kolanut
And welcome you
Within the hut of Ndiichie.
I speak native tongue,
The true voice
Of nature imitated by
Amana isôn eyen.
The Tongue of homecoming
And the bond of ancestry!
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
I will guard not against rules, but my conscience
And never shall exult in the esteem of men
For we all are brothers and sisters and friends,
Offspring of the muck whose bosom we embrace.
I live my life like a passing wind
Gently surfing through all the matters of life
Engendered and crafted by the hands of humans;
I view all things and weight their values.
They, as of a running stream on beds of rocks
The waters never lie still or become absorbed
So that water and rock cannot conjoin
So is my life with the materials of earth.
Are mine to find acquaintance….
When the heavens mourn, plants flourish,
When heaven is at its brightest moment
The plants of the earth shrivel in misery?
Yet they complement a cultivatable life.
I shall adapt to the intrigue and go my way.
I am brimmed full of her…life, life, life…!
Her great bowel is fraught with stale noise,
And she breaks wind into the atmosphere!
I am disgusted and will wander off
Wherever I shall have the balm of silence.
Silence is the overall answer to the
Nagging conundrums of the world.
I have had enough of the din and roar, now
I seek wisdom in the quietude of nature.
In a million of roar and hullabaloo of life
I find not a lesson to take to heart
But in a single word from silence
I have acquired a million lessons!
I will live in the prudence of silence and
Quiet my name, my pride, my ambitions.
Lo, the silence of God and the silence
Of nature makes me uncomfortable
To see my vain humanity and cravings
But in that shall i seek safety and solace!
Much has been the noise about love and
Peace yet to find. I shall deny myself goods
And seek peace from the alcove of my heart!
What is more to life, to eat, to breathe,
To be honoured or to acquire goods?
I tire of this humdrum existence.
It is one mind from bad to good,
It is one spirit from Jainism to Islam,
It is one flesh from poverty to wealth,
Only the result from the aura tells.
Hear, both tears and laughter have
Complement my health.
A man in a cell is being restrained by law
And same a man on the open street is being
Restrained by custom and constitution.
A man who knew was once not in existence
And cry to have come forth from womb
Why weep again who is to be gone to oblivion?
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
EGWUGWU
O black African mysticism
Ceremonial Masquerade
Droning in the deep rain forest
Among the hills
I salute you
With a clang of your machete
Scattering rays from sunlight!
O terrific African beauty
Fierce Masquerade
Charging the square to zest
Even with waist cord restraint!
Transcendent of human and spirit
Adhering to the call of Oja
The absorbing beat from
Ékwé, Ogénè and Ìchàkà
Gbam gbam dim dim gbam dim
Kom kom kororo kom….
The esoteric voice of Ìgbà
Which awakens the spirit
Of the black human race!
Egwugwu, spirit of the ancestors
Messenger of the gods
Ascended from Ani-mmo!
Custodian of the age long lore
Whose appearance
Helps the child retrace their root
And old men reminisce their past!
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
Decem in expectancy has come anon
This morn, dress in bridal mist
Of late night dews that fall on
Worn ferns, Bahama and Lilies amidst
A slim cool air in the atmosphere
Gently bids adieu to a fleeting year.
Alas, in a lull have all the waters
Make their confluence in crystal Heav’n;
Solace plants derive from dew showers
With stalks and buds and roots swoll’n.
Ha, a weaver in flight put up a nest
And makes to breed with a new guest!
Adieu, adieu, adieu ye lonely years
Adieu, make way for a conjugal bliss
To sapp drops of tears as with fears
When hearts in harmony conjoin with ease;
For HE who mould a woman out of man
Ordains them for warmth in storm and harmattan!
Stride the aisle then, daughter of Anwu
Thy beauty God’s house brightly lit
All things beautiful, and marvelous too
God makes them all, God did it!
Happy day, happy hearts, happy love
Happy as the wings of a soaring dove!
Happy still, the one who finds his rib
That one and one no longer two but one
And yet multiply by eros in filial crib
With new born babes; daughter and son.
Hence shall the fountain of health and grace
And the spring of joy flow all thy days!
(For Goddidit Esiro Igbape).
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2016
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
Life over the moon at last has waned,
A drab and dull scene from great merriment and fun
Nothing now remains but ashes of yester-dreams
Strewn over the moribund ambience of jollities
Hard dry wind has taken sway over the plane
And making blitz over bare faces worn with zest.
The morning grey with chill air piercing deep
Into lonely quivering bodies once more abandoned.
Garbage brimful of remnants of yesterday’s abundance;
As stores and coffers now in state of dearth
As the road ahead narrows shrouded by mist
And fraught expectations on white emaciating faces.
Upon every heart and stem a somber skeleton
That has shed their outer brimful layers.
The sphere again begins new cyclic processes;
All hands again go to plough, upon dead branches a bud.
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
Before I tramp the course of my cause,
A family indeed we were, I and Kole
But I short of years from the other.
Only by words we keep memory of
A deceased mother like morning dew
Sought for by the gloaming. We knew
Only a father whose right hand does
The masculine labour and his left hand
Undertook the feminine chore
And grew us up from tendril to maturity.
Nothing moves the heart as do feelings,
The impression creates of a moving mountain.
But with one mind accept I all that be
And live a life devoid of melodrama.
Behind laughter abide the trail of tears
And in my tears was laughter’s bare face.
Work, leisure, sickness, health, joy, sadness
Nothing so transporting or so flummoxing
As to heave my heart off the balance of life.
As an ass, it does not sigh over its burdens
And the camel do not complain of thirst
Through the drought of the desert.
By Fate’s design we lost Kole who had
Found natural escapism from life in death
Whereof the dead cannot forgo to return.
I, left with a father I pampered and cared for
Always after his heels and by his lounge
And all lips hailed the good son of a father.
Time takes precedence to test all values
And fate takes no cognizance of kinship.
Every cord has been broken by birth.
Day by day is the wake of another day
And again it would go back to slumber.
Harmattan made the land to be bard,
It would smile while the sun is out but
Only to become moody with drops.
Playing, gaming, travelling, interacting,
Have excused the drabness of existence.
Below the earth is the hue of brown
And above the sky is the hue of grey.
I have left my father and home into
The city to make a fortune and a name
For they all have queried a son cannot
Always be a honeybunch to a father
But must seek to be a sovereign man.
Now I traverse through the fleeting land
All my goods and affiliates lay aside.
Being an heir, I am no heir to fleeting goods.
Why throw away the bad grains
And then store up the chaff?
I will walk through the sands of time until
I halt in my course to become sand.
A father I commit to the hands of nature
And goodwill of kinsmen and friends.
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Itsoghole O Solomon Poem
REQUIEM FOR LOVE
Let the flood of my tears drown this day
And soar my spirit to the base of tartarus…!
O Cupid…come Pothos and Himeros
Where are thy powers to hold still?
Are thou wearied by human caprices,
Of whose hands fate lies then?
Elusive Aphrodite, of all thy allures
Thou perish in fantasies of beauty.
O fair rose, my heart is pierced,
Beneath thy bed is frame of thorns.
Gather ye four winds in monotonous drone
And let thee pines chime a dirge
O love...love…love…my love…my joy…
Is now lain a wreath upon my heart!
Years of love intrigues, of dreams, sacrifice,
Pain, trust, consolation and determination…
Is sold out a day to another who knows not,
For a piece of coin and a parcel of fancy.
Lento… lento the knell for a broken heart…
Love is clothed a shadow, beauty a mask!
Cry… for what is broken so shall remain
Never to be wiped, never to be patched!
Copyright © Itsoghole O Solomon | Year Posted 2014
|
|