So much promise "Green White Green"
So resplendent were you as the;
Union Jack was being lowered and
The Green White Green as foisted
That glorious evening of
The First of October, 1960
So much promise, Green White Green
From the North to the South were you cheered
The East and the South also cheered you.
You were a symbol of nationhood so craved.
Partitioned in 1884 in Berlin a destiny created
Amalgamated the Lord Lugard "Niger area"
a coinage
An Amalgamated so despised by by all
Yet Green White Green Nigeria carved by destiny
Still trying to come to grips with its destiny
Ethnic colourations a parallel across the Niger area.
(Written 10th of March, 2015)
Fragmented thought strives to join all the dots,
attempting to make sense of what appears
but analysis partitioned in slots,
can define not pathways bliss rapture spears.
Calling upon a fish to climb a tree,
dog to work out square root of minus one,
the sunken to tell us how to be free,
doomed to failure, thus we must come undone.
In silence, employing mind of the heart,
consciousness aligned with the universe,
wisdom imbibed even before thoughts start,
we pen a verse with no need to rehearse.
Simply by relinquishing all doership,
God does all doings through our heart’s worship.
___________________________________________________________
As I sat ...
in slight immersion
amongst a pond
of varied sprites
depth rippling tryst
trend simple reeds
in distance fair
partitioned pure
claimed by three
spartans affair
the mere sight of me
sacrificed precious lamb
midst circle of life
selective attends
their genteel swim
o'er cupped fingers
a ringless hand
begs of pleasure
this glorious realm
enriched am I
steeply blessed
the rewards of privilege
the shallow benefits
their minutia smiles
in that pond
... as I sat.
"My name's Lucy, what's yours," with outstretched palm.
"My name's Kirk,""Hi Kirk," "Hi Lucy, you're calm."
Temporal a passage traipse in units,
partitioned Earth's axis and Sun's movements.
Temperate seasons bud the cosmos plains,
Text the gods, link the nightshade, spare the chains.
Constellate heaven, possession errs bliss,
Lease the sky morning dew, sunrise--lips kiss.
Evergreen sanctioned untrimmed yields to gold.
Shade, consumed by the sun, glaring, behold.
Unique tan for the wayward souls loosen,
Fading footed beach traces ought proven.
The eternal god's shade Sun's complexion,
Temperate gold buds, untrimmed, lease heaven.
The blueprint marked the plan of her life.
Just like an architect she was, she constructed it perfectly
Drawing it to the very detail she wanted it to be.
Ink dripping, paper raffling, on to work she was.
As others slept, she kept burning the midnight oil in the attic where the sound was below ten decibels.
The blueprint contained segments and blocks. Each segment was partitioned by a pathway, demystifying a phase of life she had.
Armed with a compass she placed it on top perhaps a clear signal the direction she wanted her life to take.
Shapes were drawn, lines crossed and figures inserted between columns and rows.
To her advantage, she wasn’t in the 70s for she would have to wait for the canvas to dry up.
A peculiar picture struck my mind upon seeing her work, "a bridge “was it a message or a phrase “we’ll cross the bridge when we get there?
Though devoid of life; its scales still shine, shimmer,
that one could still imagine the fish, swimming,
Freely, with others, in the deep blue ocean.
Partitioned from the octopus, crabs, mussels
by rows of garish bright green plastic parsley
one bright eye stares up at me from crushed ice bed.
A jolly fisherman in lilting Irish
lauds the virtue of his last remaining catch;
almighty value, at just eight bucks a pound!
"Or six" I hear a distant person holler
In hope of taking home a late-day bargain
A spiky smile breaks the salt-cracked fisher's face.
Early bed, he wants; to dream of land, not sea
one month, he's been away from wife and mother.
"Ten I'll give," I say to his and my surprise.
One bright eye stares up at me from shiny plate.
Though devoid of life; it questions my wisdom
me too, as I google "how to cook a fish."
THE HOUSE OF COALITION
Poet: Grace kama ni
Politics is a dirty game, indoor game played,
In partitioned social house -A house of coalition,
Baptized merger, alliance, or better still – handshake,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Political love plaque, adorned in wedding outfits,
From chiefs to the newborns, all matching for the clan,
Mattresses in the house see, under them piles of old clothes,
Perhaps for a rainy season,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Everything in a haze, every -body in a rush
The sewing machines take not a nap, brush paints and repaints the walls,
Singers’ voices softened with fine honey, type writers squeak in protests,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Listen to the manifesto, new wine in old wineskin,
Old enemies new dance, well-knit family new name,
And splendid rhetoric, soul search for voters,
Opposition in opposition,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Game win, selective win,
But the house of coalition a hoax? The title deed missing?
Powers of brokers at play? “Wanjiku “played again?
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
I didn’t know why on us the sky suddenly fell,
but in the surging storm of '47,
when the country was partitioned,
we got uprooted, and turned into drift wood,
until mother found a distant unsure land
for us to grow, and find life once again.
Times were real hard,
under the shroud of insecurity in an alien land,
and in the sweeping squall of uncertainty,
she toiled for years, and built for us a home.
In her soiled hands she sculptured my life,
and made me what I am today.
A time came when my job forced me
to leave her all alone in the ancestral house.
She won’t leave her home she toiled to make,
but promised she’d come one day, live with me.
That day never came, for she left her old home,
and went away to her new abode.
When she began her last journey,
I was overseas, couldn’t be by her side,
and months later I went to the house she left.
When I met her last she was sitting on a chair,
finding that vacant in the empty room,
I couldn’t hold back my tears.
____________
August 6, 2021
Title chosen : Holding Back Tears
Contest : This Or That, Vol 5
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
I didn’t know why on us the sky suddenly fell,
but in the surging storm of '47,
when the country was partitioned,
we got uprooted, and turned into drift wood,
until she found a distant unsure land
for us to grow, and find life once again.
Times were real hard,
under scorching sun of insecurity in an alien land,
and in the spewing squall of uncertainty,
she toiled for years, and built for us a home,
in her soiled hands she sculptured my life,
and made me what I am today.
Soon a time came when my job forced me
to leave her all alone,
she won’t leave the home she toiled to make,
but promised she would come one day, live with me.
That day never came, for she left her old home,
and went away to her new abode.
I travel down the memory lane,
pine to ask why she didn’t keep her promise.
I know she has gone to where she belongs,
among the angels in heaven,
but I would want in a heartbeat to bring back,
my mother, to my home to live with me.
__________________
March 29, 2021
Contest : Mother
Sponsor : Constance La France
Solaris
Temporal a passage traipse in units,
Partitioned Earth's axis and Sun's movements.
Temperate seasons buds the cosmos plains,
Text the gods, links the nightshade, spare the chains.
Constellate heaven, possession errs bliss,
Lease the sky morning dew, sunrise--lips kiss.
Evergreen sanctioned untrimmed yields to gold.
Shade, consumed by the sun, glaring, behold.
The complexion, the surface enlightens.
Eternal trolls rest, withdraw the Titans,
Unique tan for the wayward souls loosen,
Fading footed beach traces ought proven.
Temperate gold buds, untrimmed, lease heaven,
The eternal god's shade Sun's complexion.
2019 August 17
Temporal a passage traipse in units,
Partitioned Earth's axis and Sun's movements.
Temperate seasons buds the cosmos plains,
Text the gods, links the nightshade, spare the chains.
Constellate heaven, possession errs bliss,
Lease the sky morning dew, sunrise--lips kiss.
Evergreen sanctioned untrimmed yields to gold.
Shade, consumed by the sun, glaring, behold.
The complexion, the surface enlightens.
Eternal trolls rest, withdraw the Titans,
Unique tan for the wayward souls loosen,
Fading footed beach traces ought proven.
Temperate gold buds, untrimmed, lease heaven,
The eternal god's shade Sun's complexion.
FLOWERS DIDN'T BLOOM
Partitioned country’s ground lost
Uprooted, we drifted unwanted
Searching alien land for rehab,
Grew frail roots
But flowers didn’t bloom.
May 15, 2018.
WHEN ALL WAS DARK
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
In the antique I kept it for years to remind
How my mother used it in our times at their worst,
Stitched with love the family’s dress of all kind
To save money whose source had almost dried.
Beneath dust lingered the touch of her tired fingers
She left, to wipe that out I never wished nor tried.
Toiling hard to remake the displaced home, to her
The war years seemed like only yesterday
When the country was partitioned on dubious pretext.
Uprooted and unwanted we were made to stray,
Mother gave a safe mooring to the generation next.
When she fell sick one winter in her twilight years
I prayed, lighted a candle at deity’s altar for her sake,
Time didn’t wait for her, I saw with eyes full of tears
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark.
April 22, 2018.
Big yellow taxi
They paved paradise to put up a parking lot
And all I got
Was this tie died t.shirt
My washing machine cleansed
And a 2nd hand scratched record
On which a needle jumps
To the beat of a Trump oval office
West Wing
Whitehouse
Partitioned
Behind a Wall
The inventor of the number system and chess;
the originator of algebra, trigonometry and calculus;
with the globe’s largest railway and postal network
and second to none in the height of a bridge.
We speak of the largest government of, for and from the people.
Beats Israel, Egypt, Mecca, Rome and Greece
in the number of religious visitors attracted to its shrines.
The circumference of its seasonal experience
is well partitioned into six segments.
It is the major contributor in giving the world some spicing,
its currency and sharing are very big antonyms
while Meghalaya is confirmed to be the globe’s tongue.
Even with these medals and accolades,
it still struggles to give women enough warmth and comfort
Sub Categories
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