Details |
Jonah Okpabi Poem
Walking along this long
and a lonely road
Completely flanked by tall trees
Blossoming with rich berries waiting to
be plucked
Blossoming with flowers waiting to
usher us into a new dawn
With sweet fragrance in the air and
colourful birds singing
With their soft and tender tones in the
cool hour of the day
Calling for a lone lost heart faraway in
the wood
Faraway in the wood, love comes calling
O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress
In this cool afternoon, every bird sings
itself a love song
Every heart sings a new song
Every wing creature captures her likes
and soars away to the trees and
mountain-top
Every creeping creature religiously mate
beneath the earth before night falls
When darkness covers the beauty of
nature
Walking down to the wood this dark
eerie night
Praying and waiting for you
Under the moonlight and the shade of
the oak tree
To present to you my beautiful flower
and sweet berry
That will usher us into a new dawn
O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress
All night long my heart longs for you
Crickets rustle out your name
My pretty little Angel
My mouth cannot express what is
written
On the pages of my mind
How I long to kiss your soft and tender
lips
How I long to be sheltered in your arms
when soft rain falls
I am thinking of you O gentle lady
I am thinking of your smiles- the smiles
of an Angel
I am thinking of your eyes- the eyes of a
goddess filled with the colours ofthe
rainbow
I am thinking of your dark hair, long and
flowing like a fountain of water
I am thinking of your lips from which
lovely words flows
O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress
Copyright © Jonah Okpabi | Year Posted 2016
|
Details |
Jonah Okpabi Poem
DO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH A POET
by Jonah Okpabi
.
Do not fall in love with a Poet
Poets are poor
Their pockets are empty
Above all they are liars
They tell you words with a different meaning
They tell you that you are beautiful when you know that you are ugly
Sometimes they call you a beautiful beast
So my dear friend
Do not fall in love with a Poet
.
Poets are so emotional
They pour out their tears on a piece of paper
They can find different meanings to every word you say
Above all
Poets are liars
They can smile when they are sad
They can weep when they are happy
They can sing a love song when their hearts are broken
You cannot know when a Poet is hungry
You do not know when his pocket is empty
So my dear friend
Do not fall in love with a Poet
.
Some people think Poets are beggars
Cause they can wear one cloth all year round
Some can stay days without food
So my dear friend
Do not fall in love with a Poet
.
Poets can abandon the fine scenery and the magnificent edifice of the city
for an obscure environment
Some choose to live on a mountain
Some in a cave
Some in the garden
Some in the thickest part of the forest
Some at the waterfront and spend hours starring at the tide
Some gaze at the flying birds without saying a word
While some want to stay in the world all alone
So my dear friend
Do not fall in love with a Poet
.
Poets do not love what everyone loves
They find beauty in useless things
Above all Poets are poor
Yes they make you believe they are poor
But they don't want to believe that they are liars
You can demand money from a Poet
and he will write you some cryptic words
So my dear friend
Do not fall in love with a Poet
.
There are Poets and there are Poets
Some with long hairs and some gone bald
Some with long beards while some are beardless
So my dear friend
If you must fall in love with a Poet
Think of the above
I am a Poet
...
(C) Jonah Okpabi
22/12/2017
Copyright © Jonah Okpabi | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Jonah Okpabi Poem
The land is soaked with blood
The sand is soaked with tears
Oh
How many barrels of blood must be spilled
to know that so many souls are gone?
How many basins of tears does it take
to have more than enough tears?
.
I am the voice of the little child
crying in the wilderness
I want to caress the flowers that spring
out of the ground of my homeland
I want to watch the ripples when rain falls
I want to play with my mates on the sand
along Chu Ngoke street
I want to sit at home and watch my parents returning from a bountiful yam harvest
I want to stand at the playground and watch the traditional wrestling
I want to hear the sounds of Egelege and Egoni talking drums reminding me of yesterday and a great future ahead
I want to chase away goats from eating the maize in my mother's garden
I want to open my mother's pot
and pick a meat out of the soup
I want to see my homeland
Sweet little home of ours
Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode
.
I am the voice of a man
Whose hope lies in shackles
Whose homeland lies in broken images
A town deserted and forgotten
I am tired of being a stranger
in another man's land
I am tired of begging for crumbs
When my barn is filled with yam
Mudskippers can still be found in our swamps
Please take me back to Alode
I don't want to die in another man's land
I want to die in Alode, somewhere in Eleme
I want to be buried near the grave of my father and see my ancestors usher
me home with a shinning crown
Take me back home
Take me back home
.
Take me back to Alode
Let me see the beautiful women that
toss about the streets
Let me admire their buttocks
Let me stare at their breasts,
those two round objects protruding out
of their clothes, breasts that could make me feel like a child again
Let me kiss Nyime Owa Eleme, that beautiful lady of my dream
Let me lay her down on my bedside and
make life worthwhile
I want to go back home and see
the sunshine with it's illuminous rays
and the tender droplets of the rain
Oh Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode
.
Take me back to Alode
Let me touch your borders
From Alesa to Ogale
From Echieta to Onne and
From Ebubu to the Onu Nmu where they say the hands cannot reach
I want to touch the land of Alode
I want to touch the Eleme soil
I want to touch the soft green grasses of home
.......
Copyright © Jonah Okpabi | Year Posted 2017
|