LEAKING PAST

 Have your past ever come back to hunt you? Have you always thought you'd get away with something awful only to be revisited by it several years later? Read on cause this poem is for you

LIVING DEATH

This poem gives a distinct illustration and description of the woes and pains of a woman suffering from cancer. She pours her heart and prays for more time. Read and enjoy!

MY FRIEND AND I

As we evolve we continuously meet people. People we might call friends, some enemies, some family and many others depending on the depth and value of the relationship. But do we realise that our enemies were once our friends? How then did they pivot to being our enemies?

FAILED LOVE

This narrative poem describes the type of relationship being built by most Nigerian children with their fathers. It is not an oblivious fact that most Nigerian children are very affectionate and closer to their mothers than to their fathers hence, this poem preaches of striking a balance between our love for both and tries to show how significantly important our fathers are. Enjoy!

                                    FAILED LOVE

He sat quietly with an inconceivable look at the edge of the pouch

His eyes wavered up and down, fro and thro

I could see frustration and guilt take advantage of his soul

 If only he had a premonition of upcoming events

How much more save it when things became intolerably intense

I looked around and thought him bogus

Why would a man sit debasingly emasculated?

Certainly he aroused my curiosity

He might just be a destitute begging for a coin or two

That I said to myself still eager to hear him speak like a fool

Stranger! You look weary. 

How about you share your problems with a fellow stranger

He smiled like he was about to tell a macabre tale

He nodded like I had a Machiavellian intent

Do you have a father? He asked

Yes I do! But we all do, don’t us?

Do you unsparingly love him? He asked again

Oh yes! I do

Very much if you must know

How often do you see him?

Anytime I want to

When last did you both interact quietly with no arguments but peace?

I can’t remember

Can you decipher when he is disgruntled, quail, hopeless, ill or delirious?

Very few times stranger, very few times!

And you think you love him?!

I once had a father like you stranger

I treated him with subconscious disdain like you are treating yours now

I only ran to him for his benevolent favours which I felt was his responsibility

I never tried to understand him or his personality

I took his words of advice as the words of a backward self-centred man

I was obstreperous!

My relationship with him was self-absorbed

All these I realised just last night of his passing

I feel like my eyes were covered with a thick blindfold

Meteorically, they are gone and I can see even when it is two shades darker than midnight

With a long and grimaced face he said

Truth is stranger, I never enjoyed my father!

Stranger! You come to me like I have a solvable problem when it is you who does

Now I can see, but it is you who has to take off your blindfold now before it is too late

Don’t be languid and bohemian about this, young lad

Part of the reasons I am grievous and lamenting bitterly is because I had no one to tell me

Leave me be! Run! Go to him! And make things right

You might really not have a problem until the head is off