LATIN grooves FLATTEN SATIN
Cafe. FATTEN our joy. HOUSEWIVES, LOWLIVES
rest their carving KNIVES down. HIPS rise and sink as SHIPS.
A body becomes an ELLIPSE to ROCK away on this dry DOCK.
BANDOLEROS sway dames, CABALLEROS with cozy BOLEROS.
VAQUEROS LOSE HORSESHOES,
even REFUSE the courtship of LIQUOR that makes man liable to BICKER
and unheeding of señoritas who FLICKER or TEASE, mushing up KNEES.
But the TREBLE of the single note samba, sweet JEZEBEL, a PEBBLE
on a silken sea births a REBEL, flying FREE from a square CITY.
It overcomes EASILY. CONNECTS me with hidden mirrors, FACETS.
REDIRECTS this tan ITERATION to its ORIGINATION.
Fulani slippers, flamenco SKIRT, I FLIRT in my sticky pink SHIRT.
ALERT. Primal rhythms arouse EMOTIONS like alchemy's POTIONS.
LOCOMOTIONS of SAMBA-JAZZ unblanching my wan TOPAZ,
turn it afro-blue PIZZAZZ. CONFOUND the EARTHBOUND.
What if insurgency or killings last longer than necessary
What if none of the government is involved
What if it is through external influence
What if they are bound to occur
What if all Boko Haram actions are not of emissary
What if they are not been dissolved
What if it doesn't to any affluence
What if none turns a cur
What if Bandits never exist
What if more lives got lost through other means
What if the constitution don't address resolution
What if there is no room for punishment
What if Kidnapping persist
What if it can be traced to genes
What if ransom increases elocution
What if it is recognized as an ancient
What if Fulani herdsmen killings continues
What if the farmers succumb
What if the acts bring peaceful night
What if the more thanks the more trouble
What if Oil bunkering stops
What if poverty crumb
What if all Barrels are tight
What if no barrel makes rubble
If all these have been ravaging
Should we all agree
If all these have truly being
Won't it be better we rule by decree?
I can't wait for May 29:
On that day Spanish or French wine,
Ready same day Italian shoe;
I'll die for its color: sky blue!
May 29 President goes,
In Nigeria, New Promise flows;
First Citizen 'Just Citizen';
In the North Fulani Denizen...
Yes, President is going home
Straight to his very safe fine foam.
The smiles of a fake achiever;
He knows he could not deliver...
The presidency is a hot seat:
Only few guys can brave the heat:
The Guy I see befriend The Press,
More often than less in white dress;
To Nigeria offering Peace;
He forgets foreheads he did crease!
I myself - Zap! - to some kitchen
Four Thousand for full fried chicken:
I'm marking the end of a farce:
Failed Nigeria given a pass.
There is a greed,
that is a violent desire for,
for charms and there is also a greed for good,
all is a nuisance stir.
Lady5, lady6, lady7, lady8, lady9...,
if they are lovers interchanging one another,
around say a Fulani gentleman,
is still nuisance,
for it is against law.
In the fantasizing brains of all Nigerian Fulanis,
Including their kindergarten still urinating on nannies;
All the entries and exits within country’s Aso Rock
To keep obeying their adjustable, Fulani clock!
Presently, the unstoppable aspiration of the Purest Hausa teens
Recklessly announcing the same to their napkins:
The Achilles Heel of the Brazilian Football Team,
Easily her ruinous tears commanding,
When she should a loser’s smile beam,
This, thorough Good Breeding demanding.
By the United States beautifully masked,
In her playing of Uncle Tom, enormously tasked;
Her millions of Dollars readily releasing
A loved President, the next election, losing!
To nearly every deprived tribe
Something to fight with the fattest bribe
Or surrender with a loaded gun
Making sure it doesn’t away run!
I’ve tried to The Mentality justify,
Baring a Bible verse that does it fortify…
Or so to me it had seemed
Or, probably, I has deemed…
‘The Elder shall serve The younger’…
And God must’ve, the service years, made longer!
What trigger people to kill?
why do people hate?
why is the world full of wickedness?
question
Rhetorical questions
No more love
No more brothers keeper but brother killer
Fight everywhere
bombing and death
blood everywhere
homeless ,helpless
yet full of expectations
heavy drop of tears
flowing heavily
The wounded cry in agony
waiting to be heard
top make promises
fake not real
when will it be real?
fear of death grip thy heart
destruction,disaster
is what we get
No day that passes without fear
why do fulani herdsmen kill?
why the bombing?
safe thy self
how?
What trigger people to kill?
why do people hate?
why is the world full of wickedness?
question
Rhetorical questions
No more love
No more brothers keeper but brother killer
Fight everywhere
bombing and death
blood everywhere
homeless ,helpless
yet full of expectations
heavy drop of tears
flowing heavily
The wounded cry in agony
waiting to be heard
top make promises
fake not real
when will it be real?
fear of death grip thy heart
destruction,disaster
is what we get
No day that passes without fear
why do fulani herdsmen kill?
why the bombing?
safe thy self
how?
To everyone who found himself,
Found himself by looking for the good in others.
The more you try to add value to others,
The more you add value to yourself.
The more I try to plant my SWAP in you,
The more my hectares of farm of SWAP enlarges
And the more I see more about myself
I never saw when I never started.
Saul enrolled for the Gulder Ultimate Search
To search for the lost donkey of his father
And then he found himself
As the first King of Israel.
David laid down his life to be the Fulani boy
Of his family, even though clearly neglected.
Yet, at his duty post he fell in love with God,
He wrote love-letters to God,
Expressing his psalms feelings to God
And also expressed his might
With lions and bears as specimens.
Also, Goliath as his great spring to greatness.
Whatever you can do to refurbish humanity,
Do it with all delight and someday
Your light will so shine before men
That they may see your good works
And glorify your Father which art in Heaven.
Tatizo letu sisi kama sisi ni kwamba hatuna elimu lakini ni wajuaji
Tatizo letu sisi kama sisi ni kwamba hatutaki kutembea bali kukimbia
Tatizo letu sisi kama sisi ni kwamba hatushibi,
Tunakula mpaka tunajamba
Tuna ujeuri usiokuwa na faida
Tuna ujeuri usiokuwa wa kawaida
Na tunaona ni sawa tu.
Tatizo letu sisi kama sisi ni wanafiki, Tunasema ndio kumbe tunamaanisha la
Tatizo letu sisi kama sisi ni wavivu, hatuoni maana ya kuchapa kazi, Sio kufanya kazi bali kuchapa kazi Tuna ujeuri usiokuwa na faida
Tuna ujeuri usiokuwa wa kawaida
Na tunaona ni sawa tu.
Tatizo letu sisi kama sisi hatupendani, Tunathamini watu wa nje kuliko wa ndani Chakushangaza hata hawa ndugu zetu kina nyani Huwa wanapeana heshima fulani
Tuna ujeuri usiokuwa na faida
Tuna ujeuri usiokuwa wa kawaida
Na tunaona ni sawa tu.
Sisi kama sisi hatuwezi kuendelea
Maana tayari kizazi chetu kimeshapotea
Wale waliobaki kazi yao kubwa ni kuwaonea na kuwatendea wale wenzao wanao wategemea
Ule ujeuri usiokuwa wa kawaida na faida sasa umebaki kutuzomea
Na tunaona ni sawa tu.
© SMS
TO MY MOM DADA ZOUWAIRATOU M YAUKI
THE TRUEST HAUSA-FULANI
The iron core of the whole family
She stands with the long rooster
First crow which tears up, praying, and
Goes on laboring till the owl grave hoots
Herald the veiling darkness and darkness
Is life, and might.
But also death and weakness.
The hoots made me feel so small when
A child, and think of mother to soothe me,
For I had fears, and my people's fears were
Forced upon me too.
Sorcerers!
Magic!
Backwardness!
Moronity!
Death!
The twain Angels
Of life after Death!
Dream of stars, my eyes fully open
To start
Away from my tiny world full of fairy tales
With the spider as the hero as running
From the ghosts
Oh, Allah! Lost before standing on my feet!
I like my mom and she likes me too.
She prays Allah to grant me success
And I ask Him to forgive her, for
She’s always been my surest support
Of course she hadn’t been to school
But was a school herself. Proud
Greedy reader, my friend, be sure that
She’s as divine as your MOST perfect mother.
Shawaï!
Born struggling for bread and butter on the way to the barren land
Where Adama’s warriors settled like saviors with Fulani to spread the Nation
And implant Fulani’s mingled tradition burying indigenous cultures with the edge of
Their swords and the spade of convincing myths, with detriment to the creed.
Born to bear the burdens of his family, his name and awe-inspiring personality.
Of middle height, not light, a grave face oft-changing, tranquil in prayers
And meditation but on meeting all and sundry walking slowly, but lively
He neither cared about the foes howling like bees each striving to strike hard
Nor was he involved in the poor scratching of the stars to foretell the Unknown.
Keen on reading the Book he inspired fears and demanded reverence
Hardworking he chose to be a shepherd, a laborer, a teacher, a retired believer
Grinding his beads too, and working on the farm, and opposing
Injustice whenever need be, keeping the family tie and mending the nations
Patches refusing abuses of power and declining the rich men tendency to
Rule the laws, he stood firmly against the excesses and in working he passed
Away.
There once was a fulani man,
whose cow was in society ban'.
He bought for't a book
which is greenish in look.
"These are leaves" said the fulani man.
The westerners eat Amala and Ewedu
We eat Akpo and Ofe Nsala
They dance Juju and Apala
We dance bongo and atilogwu the beat of life.
T^he Northerners speaks hausa whilst we speak igbo
They married with no bride price and dowry
But we marry with bride price and huge dowry.
Cut the man"s hair low, short to remind him That
Marriage is never a bed of roses therefore he must look
After our pride, princess, prestigious priceless pretty queen
Who must painstakingly bear his name abandoning her
Humble background and journey with him amidst roses and bullets.
They wear buba and agbada in an architectural design
Darshiki from the north domain whilst we wear Ukwu george
They plate shoku, koroba and kpatawo and make beads round their neck
Igbo speak, yoruba frown, hausa dance, itskiri watch
Kanuri laugh, Ebira smile, Nupe point, Tiv demonstrate Fulani pick.
Idoma cry, Awori cry, Efik console, Ibibio comfort
Yet Unity we stand despite the cultural diversity.
One for all, all for one, we stand.
Bound to the humble land in hundred fold
Relevant is our culture and tradition
In defend shall we die and perish for our
Precious country.
Malefactor of our mighty land
Guile do they practice from them, beat
Skank do they drop on our prior rand
Their soul's the people reprimand
Like flies rejecting a rust feet
Malefactor of our mighty land
Drive them from our inunct land
Like Fulani cattle being hit
Skank do they drop on our prior rand
Sweep out before broth turns our hand
Like cobwebs cleaned out of room neat
Malefactor of our mighty land
Their tongue festooned with sweet canard
Embellished with tear thorns their teeth
Skank do they dump on our prior rand
When they continue being rotund
We the citizens turns unfit
Malefactor of our mighty land
Skank do they dump on our prior rand
Who Can?
Paints a Fulani maiden
With creamy calabash hawking 'fura de nunu',
A tall nomad, pole stretches on his long shoulders
Hold in place with hanging fingers like broom,
Being on a nowhere long way, wave on a transistor;
A cajole broad face,
Scowling amongst bushy extended beard;
A narrow umbrella sombrero
Tip at right elfish ear,
Shepherding towering cattle in perpendicular;
Munching down uppermost greens, with heighten horns
Traveling in lengthen distance,
Who can?
Who can?
Depict heavenly masquerade typhoon by gods;
Leaping, flying with flashing whips,
The satyr opened dark tunnel throat
And fangs all coloured with crimson;
Dear deer full of affected blinks,
Innocent mirth on polish promise horns.
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