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Jacob Caleb Poem
I never met a better fella
until I met Ella
Ella was finer than Esther
but stronger than Joshua.
She's gat crude swags
both in the way she sags.
Her mother who often nags
would burn masculine stuff from her bags.
Her handshakes are so loud
like a clap in the midst of silent crowd.
Her hair, always bound,
like ponytail and it makes her sound.
Copyright © Jacob Caleb | Year Posted 2017
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Jacob Caleb Poem
I smell a darker age
I fear a fiercer rage
the conflagration will begin a new page
in the history of a country once named.
More 'saints' would die
birds of bullets would fly
and there'll be no barricades to hide,
nature will cry!
Have you long forgotten
the excruciating pains of 1967?
Art thou diagnosed with dementia
of how our streets were soaked
with the placentas of pregnant mothers?
How hopeless our children felt
when heartbeats of parents couldn't be felt...
Art thou forgetful of the bloody taste of water
and how emaciated our kids were?
Oh that thou would visit thy past
Oh that thou would visualise the path
that thou thread,
Oh that thou disallow an imminent war!
My heart bleeds, bleeds the more(sobs)
Copyright © Jacob Caleb | Year Posted 2017
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Jacob Caleb Poem
Early to rise
late to lay,
business minded people
who barely slay;
best of friends with traffic
who make their day.
Clicking show glasses of Ghana bons
with schoolers ready to buy;
Athletic traffic sellers who could
catch up a bus at 120
A metropolis
coloured with yellow molue and danfo buses
whose drivers are as audacious as the day;
chain smokers with throaty voices
impatient with co-commuters
when they cry "Mile2 Mile2!"
Energetic touts with special anthem
"owo mi da?"
Grubby fighters in yellow
ready to engage any fellow.
Happy market women in their sizes
buying and selling in faded wrappers
in loud cries of "langbe jinó o"
and hilarious children replying "I get belle o!"
Impatient road users in their dusty trekker shoes,
almost bumping into one-way bikers
who would often holler "oloriburuku oshi!"
Loud jaiye jaiye gbedu
with dragging notes
from roadside DJs
who are live for the party
and on Saturdays for the couples
A city with anaconda queues at banks
with sweaty odours from co-standers.
Konfam Okokomaiko pikin
#CeeJay
#BusyPenPoetry
Copyright © Jacob Caleb | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Jacob Caleb Poem
In a moment of Despacito,
my heart bubbles with joyous symphonies
from your crackless trachea,
how you compose notes with dexterity.
What if I told you,
I want it to be you?
Each minute with you is a wedding party
directed with expertise.
Open up and let's walk through this path,
chasing us around the merry-go-round,
oozed up with strawberries and daffodils.
In deep passionate laughter we float.
What if I told you,
I want it to be you?
Copyright © Jacob Caleb | Year Posted 2017
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