Thursday, 29 January 2015


Looking at the night sky
stars winking in mischief, crickets chirping
lounging by the patio
dipping my cup into your memories
drinking my fill
beside me, ripen buds.

A scent wafts, your scent
purple petals, juicy nectars  
here I hear the jangling goblets
of that night before you left
under the covering of the night sky
we bared our heart and limbs

Come back to me Eniti okan mi yan
sing once more with me the lovers song
so I can watch the curve of your lips
reminiscence of our last kiss
the last time we made magic
before things fell apart.

ENITI OKAN MI YAN-The one my heart has chosen 

Pictures courtesy

Monday, 26 January 2015


Shall we speak again
that they may hear?
Shall we heap our spite?
Perhaps they’ll hear and fear,
they who auction our future.
Handed down from fathers to sons
like playthings that lacked its own will
end to end, in circles chasing tails.

Or shall we just sing again
that they may hear?
Shall we go on our knees in prayers?
and sing for them verses for their doom
that in the house of five, five be dead
and one more be dying, till their air
is riddled with rot for smell.

I say we sing again
on one knee we’ll say the lines
bearing headless cockerel spurting blood
that not one of them shall remain
no internment, no gravestones
if swollen on food meant for all,
then swollen in death, filth to filth.


Wednesday, 21 January 2015


Dear Sir,
Compliments of the season to you sir. How is the presidential campaign going?
Sir, I commend your tenacity and undying commitment to serving your people. Such display of courage and determination is born of stuffs of legends and brings readily to mind the erstwhile president of the United States of America famed to have lost eight elections before he emerged as the president eventually. I am sure his name has already crept into your thoughts sir but for avoidance of doubt, he is no other than Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President of America. His persistence knew no bounds. But sir, you cannot but agree with me that you do not have enough years left to break his record. Furthermore sir, between you and me, it is really nothing worthy of emulation. It is usually better to bow out when the ovation is loudest. But then who am I to dare suggest you were trying to emulate him?

Monday, 19 January 2015


His Excellency
Happy new year to you Mr. President. I trust it met you in high spirits like it met me.
I promised myself a long time ago to write you sir but I am happy it took me this long to fulfill this promise as it could not have come at a more propitious time because as we both know sir; you are busy trying to get re-elected. Permit me to state sir, that I encourage you to seek the mandate of the Nigerian people once more, the past six years haven’t been so easy, everyone can see you need four more years in order to set aright the very few anomalies that has bedeviled your administration. I would likely do the same too if I were in your shoes so I appreciate that you took a little time out of your schedule to read this short letter of mine to you sir.
Your name sir is a peculiar one and I am sure you have been told that times too numerous for count. But sir, I hope you are as concerned as I am that lady luck may be cheating on you as she seems to be ready to elope with someone else. Perhaps it’s time you wore a new look and hone your wooing skills yet again before the situation readily defies redemption.
Let me state for the record sir that I am anti-PDP. However, let not your nose wrinkle in disgust as yet, should you care to know sir, I am also anti-APC/ACN/AC/ANPP. I will let you in on why sir, Nigerian political parties are denude of party ideals. Hardly can one be differentiated from the other, nor the players in the arena. For some of us watching from outside, there is little distinction between a bug and a roach which includes their relative sizes. Some of the common features they share is that they are both dirty insect, pests, harbingers of discomfort, they favour operating in darkness and are harmful to human existence and health. The analogy immediate above bears much in semblance with the various political parties in Nigeria hence the reason why shifting camp comes relatively easy and is actually encouraged.

Sunday, 18 January 2015


It’s time for bed
I’m holding my pillows close
memories flood my thoughts
of you lounging and evading my gaze
smiles dancing in the corners of your lips
watching you try hard to ignore them.

My hand touched yours
you shifted yours away
and then I know
you could feel the currents too.

I remember my glimpse into paradise
when on my lips yours were fixed
and it was that time
I noticed my heart beating together with yours
thumping in rhythm
it became clear I’m stuck.

That time your head lies on my chest
when pleasant sigh escaped your lips
I felt it too
as contentment seeped into our bones
dreams coming true.

Vivid memories won’t stop dancing
wriggling in abandon through my thoughts
born of your lingering essence
left on my pillows
and here I am , sinking delightfully into it.

Pictures courtesy of

Friday, 16 January 2015


We were flowers at our prime,
our scent wafts around,
the songs we could sing ,
the harmony of our shores,
the ease of our world.

The grim reapers came calling,
their sickle shine brilliantly
it flashed only once
and its shine became dulled by our juices.

Some were budding flowers
the pregnant were not spared
our nursery lost its glamour
story of land razed to ground
from the shores of our land

When you see our Jona
tell him he’s done us well
when you see our turbaned lords
tell them our voice is gone
and no more will it ever be heard.

Pictures  Courtesy of

Monday, 12 January 2015


The time is nigh
the gods will make music again
each time,four years apart
its time to dance and/or be gored.

The gods will drum again
music of the deadly feral gong
filth to filth; death to death
the clock-hand draws closer.

Different twists goes the rhythm
some to death in rallies
some to death by assassins
some to the end by rituals.

Four seasons ago they struck their sounds
their drums resonating
from the East of the Northern shores
blown to bits, one after the other.

Last time the gods had their party
children were stolen from the huts
sold to slavery, sold to sex
from the hills the staccato rings.

The gods are wont to drumming
and drum they shall
listen not to the poisonous symphony
lest you be stung or worse.

Of what use is a warning
when fate has wooed ill for some
they hide not from the resonating pulse
in that, they condemn more to mourning.

The gods are making their drums
it never announces for good
and if heed is not taken
at the next s-election, the gods will drum again.


Wednesday, 7 January 2015


Its the 86th thursday
again I get to drink-in the sight of you
and see again the sparkle of your teeth
when you smile across the table at him.

Every thursday I wonder what he says
that brings that glitter into your eyes
and the laughter pealing boundlessly from those lips.

I’m green with envy

Take your eyes off him for a minute
bless my face with your stare
smile again towards me
I’m always at door duty every thursday.

That will do me just fine
till thursday is here again.

HAPPY 2015!

This is to wish everyone here a Happy New Year.
Wishing you a greater year than the last on all fronts.
We apologise this is coming a bit delayed...