Monday, 29 December 2014


To say tears be blood
walahi I for don dry finish
I too cry I swear.
As I dey wake every morning
na to first cry be my own
na tears be my morning food
na im still be my night food
see as I don bite all my nails finish
na to begin bite my fingers remain so oh.
Caro my babie, nor be my fault I swear
na my village winch(witch) too strong
na plasma dem take dey watch me
dem don upgrade from mirror
na wetin make I misbehave be dat
nor be my fault biko
nor be me wan slap you
na dem make my hand begin stretch like ‘kini’
to say I know I for nor try am
cos baibe(baby), you be better woman
nor let me dry finish bikonu.
Sweetie I dey for ground oh
I nor go gree stand
till you forgive me
I wan go bring ma papa and mama come
you say for wetin?
make dem follow me beg you na
 even that nonsense Bimpe go follow come
na we all go gather beg you.
I swear I nor dey look her waist again
She nor even sabi ‘do’ reach you
My eyes nor dey shook again I swear
Just try forgive me Nkem
I nor go ever try am again
If I lie make I naked baff(bathe)
Nor vex babym
If I try am again, abeg nor forgive me.


Monday, 15 December 2014


Who shall kiss this maid
once for this she was paid
for long her tide was in the high
but now no wares to trade
like a flower, she’s wilted.

Who shall kiss this maid
a veritable courtesan
glossy and silken-haired at prime
now but a bag of grime,
wrinkled and withered like age
the younger ones have taken over
 it’s a vicious circle they’ve got.

Again who shall kiss this maid
she’s as a ball that has lost its bounce
doomed for what they were
doomed more for what they are.

Who shall kiss this maid
you perhaps but not me
faces coloured like billboards
advertising a fight long lost
skin marked and stretched thin
arid, parched and worn
soiled pores of her rotten fruits
so soiled they’ll defy redemption.


This song they always sang
is clothed in some olden melody
far and removed from our new tunes.
The one we seek
is feed, meant for the soul.
Should a crown rest on a knee
when the head goes uncovered
or beads on a pole
when the waist goes unadorned?
Too long we lived here
same games, same players
same scores, same winners
even nollywood, is better scripted.
Let them be as relics
 these practices as of old
and their high priests
banished into folklores
confined to corridors of history
so with modern injections
we can cure modern malaises.
Surely a typewriter can only wish
it’s a computer that parlays with internet
‘cos whilst the candle dances in tune
with the melody of the night breeze
a bulb stares in defiance
daring the breeze to a standstill.
This is where we stand!

Friday, 12 December 2014


Now that we’ve stopped being human
let fathers go on a drilling spree
raise their daughters skirts and bore holes
brothers and sisters alike
let the fun be not stilled
and you sons, raise thee your mothers skirts and plunge

Now that we’ve stopped being human
let the sky rain blood
bomb ye the infidels
raze to ground all that stands in your paths
let bodies litter the fields
filth to filth, triumphant putrefaction

Now that we’ve stopped being human
let us go on looting spree
where are the cranes,
and the empty containers they bear
fill it up, will you?
Its time we strip the nude nation more

Now that we’ve stopped being human
tap deep into thy evil recess
that we may in wanton wallow in evil
let us paint the sky black
let chaos pay us visits
so that the rich darkness can swallow the light

Now that we’ve stopped being human
some ten score maidens will not do
more of them shall we harvest
we need human materials to build our harems
let dip our wick into their wells
nubile thighs to satiate our palates

Now that we’ve stopped being human
let it be known the end is near
for when we stop being human
we die daily a thousand deaths
a gradual spiral into the grave and grim beyond
for we can only live, by being human

Wednesday, 10 December 2014


I see the stars, Akanke
in the twinkle in your eyes
oh starriest of the maidens.
It’s there in the allure of your touch
the soft caress of your voice
in my ears
and the liquid way, it warms its path
I see it, in the stir
the quickening of my heartbeats
when the glare of your gaze comes my way.
Jingle jingle it goes
The ringing of your laughter
and the bounce in your steps
as you saunter by.
It’s there, in the silky feel of your skin
the heat of your touch
the taste that pleasantly assaults my nostrils.
It’s there. All there.


Monday, 8 December 2014


Of she were many warnings
like a dog challenging a tiger to a hunt
I would be swayed into recklessness
as sure as the path of the sun; east to west
blood flowed south and sense followed it

Who would not be caught
in the perfect lure of the gap tooth
the twinkling dimples or yet
the shimmer of well-oiled pouting lips
or the naked caress of SISI’s voice

True to warning I’m lost in lust
in my head lewd images reel
of enjoined hips and thrashing limbs
caution did knocked my doors
but in the lure I lost my hearing

If you see father
tell him something must  kill a man
better I die by this
than miss this taste of heaven on earth
that lies deep between her thighs.



I have heard about you.
I have been shown how to identify your type.

They say you will have your wares loaded and well placed
Like a beautifully crafted letter,
punctuated in the right places.

They say I need to take heed
'cos my head will agree with my eyes, and in fact my loins too.

They told me the roll of your hips
will fashion me a third leg
and the tilt in your voice, will keep ringing in my head.

They have told me you come 
with sweetened lips and honeyed tongues.

They also told me the truth about you,
that like 'ajao', who's hands outstretch its thighs
your value stops at your looks

who really is a sight for sore eyes
has in your inside, pure rottenness.


Let me know
or let me go
if not, join me and row
the high tide is again low
but then, maybe you want the tow.

Join me,
let’s take a trip to the blue horizon
than adrift a fake caption
let’s go it’s the fashion
oh girl give me more bouillon.

If only you can read my mind
perhaps then you’ll pay me mind
I burn, not a fire of the two kind
this will be for a real bind

But if not,
I’ll burn with power
and shout with fire
till your walls to tire
and if not, why not me a dear?


Thursday, 4 December 2014


When sanity comes back
None of our thread will be crazy
Not the threads and buttons
Nor the zips and fastenings
Who conspired to leave bodies bared
They despise to stay on skins
Baring for gaze ample bosoms
Contriving to refuse any extension
Preferring to leave nothing to imaginations

When sanity returns
Our threads and its weaving will heed more control
They’ll stop our jeans from hanging mid-thigh
They’ll refuse being torn in the knees and all sorts
Nor would they allow
For some trousers to share names with vegetables

When sanity revisits
These pot-bellied fellas won’t run out of gyms
And resort to fence-climbing
Nor would their boss dance at rallies
Morning after our daughters changed schools
Leaving the comfort of their classroom and loved ones
For some new school
In the thick of the forest
Kept in harems being ripened for pluck

When sanity is back here
There’ll be no more dawn criers
Shouting doom and destruction
Like they are heaven’s gatekeepers
And yet they claim its good news
Nor would some wear garments of incendiaries
Fighting fights for their gods
The sheer foolishness of their wisdom stares back
For human shouldn’t go on in fights
For gods who wouldn’t help themselves
'cause gods don’t die, only human does


Monday, 24 November 2014


Like a lark in the hunter’s nest
my heart thumps a symphony
a turpsy-turvy melody
telling stories
of chaps and damsels
of promised pleasure and magic making
of memories and deep sighs
of moans and whispers.
Like a gift we’ll unwrap
like a scroll it’ll unfold
like a reel, motions and pictures
all because you smiled
and tickled my ears
with the feathery touch of your voice
and now, I want more
I want you!


There goes Lucky our friend
he lives three blocks away
jolly as he skips back home
Lucky is such a Lucky chap

While for us we had father
blessed also with the warmth mother exudes
Lucky makes us green in envy
For he has himself two fathers

 When in school it’s ‘mother’s day’
all our mums are seen to chat
and right there at the corner wing
we all can see one of Lucky’s dads

Yesterday we wore sweaters
mine was blue, others in colours too
we all had our names knitted
but neither of Lucky’s father could

Tomorrow we’ll be there to cheer
our mothers will be singing
will they allow either of Lucky’s fathers?
Perhaps it’s time to rent a mom

All of us has God-mothers
we love them for the bear gifts
but if Lucky’s has only fathers
does he need a god-mother?

Every time we get to talk
All save one talk of mothers
After all, his is different.


Thursday, 20 November 2014


If I see no brighter smile,
this I see lasts a lifetime and more.
If larks could hear you sing, they'd be jealous,
knowing you fare better
than they ever would.
Like sweet confectionery,
beauty in taste, beauty in sight
As the one for whom my heart sings,
does your smiling lips
offer me as much as it promises?
Photo Courtesy: Google Images

Does the thumping of my heart mirrors yours?
Does yours dances in rhythm with mine?
Do your dreams feature little me and little you?
Just as your voice sings in my heart,
does mine minister to yours too?
‘Cause if the sight that greets my stare
is as sure as my pulse,
I know I'm safe; I know it’s real; you are real!

Tuesday, 18 November 2014


Were I a minstrel
I'll sing you a ballad

a soft slow love song
that'll stir you deep and strong
you'll swoon and yearn for more.

If only I were a minstrel

every night I'll sing you a lullaby
cuddle you and watch you sleep.

Oh how I wish

I could wrap you around me like a raiment
wear your scent like a cologne
and your love,
as a ring on my finger


Give me then the drummer's stand

and let me drum you a symphony
that mirrors my heartbeat,
oh yes, a love rhythm.

Beloved, draw nigh

let's sway to these beats
to these tunes our love plays
you and I, a love dance.