Muttering voices

"Storms" When pain hits like a thunderbolt  Where do men run for cover? Where do grieving souls find succour? Many words were said to God Many words are now said by men Few retorts  Many silence  And darkness  Then the mourner walks silently, sullenly, and unsure Not knowing what each path will yield  But wishing any could end his grief. Life's a cracked palm kernel Offered by the gods You can never tell which will be bitter  And when it will be. Death is like a sudden darkness  That envelopes joy in mid-day  And deepens the pain of the suffering. Where do grieving souls go when death removes the thatched roof over their heads? 

 "Ifeanyichukwu" Your race was a short errand, Like a short-lived sprint; You ended yours in the heat of the moment  Who would blame you? Your path was thorny and scary Peopled with bruises and scars Inflicted by hands hiding in the dark. You had a brave heart That rose and fell with a warrior's tremor You fought for many as yourself  You fought with many and you fell. The fall caused a silent earthquake  Within your late father's obi The one you were called to watch over  With the eagles eyes. But you fell On a ground already wet with our tears of hope and prayer, But you fell Into silence that gnaws the heart  with sorrow forever.

 "Graveyard Tales" Dust to Dust Dust has come to dust For every man must bear his cross  And the boundary of life and death all must cross.  Does this word cross your thought? The glittering facades of life Makes the one eyed man forget his debt to blindness  He dances lavishly on another's grave Forgetting that his isn't far from his backyard. Suddenly joy is lost halfway between smiles Lips are crossed amidst laughter  The grave has eaten its sacrifice  And it is still hungry. 

 "My Funeral"   When it is my funeral, I won't let my ears be deafened by the noise of phoney mourners Weeping for no lost love Nor let their tears wet my parched grave. I will search their hearts than their faces I will listen to their thoughts than their praises I won't be swayed by the slippery words that lay at my feet. I will look for the purest grief  And warm my cold feet and hands there. I will look for the hearts that cheered my soul In the days when the midnight struck like a thief. I will promise blessings and vengeance  I will forerun their friends and outrun their foes. I promise not to let death win. I will be like Okonkwo that threw the cat that steals many lives. I will quench the fire of the hearth  Unsit the pot  And blow the ashes away I didn't ask for a feast but a farewell.  When that day comes, Refuse to carry your worries  Gag the whimpers of your doubts  Death will be my voyage to the finishing line.

 "Ambivalence" I bear a flicker of light Sometimes smouldering  You can't see it It is hidden somewhere in my soul Blown here and there by the wind Tossed to and fro like the sea I tread paths Winding like the curled body of a snake  Dreadful, unspeakable  It is like wonders. They are like questions caught in between fallen teeth, Entrapped, howling silently to the roof top If ever words are enough, If ever thoughts are able to imagine  How life fades as it begins Or how each day leaves despair for the next Yet when tiredness encircles our whole To sleep we must go And shut our eyes from all that we are  And never want to see.

 " Two Black Hawks " The day breaks open like an over-incubated egg into brisky and hot halves, Perfect timing to serve vengeance like cold ice cream, And bury the hatchet with the hands that bore it first. The hands that dealt the first gruesome blow, The hands smeared with the blood of innocent citizens, Dragged into the cauldrons of death by religious bigotry.  The Black Hawks swooped with precision and mastery on their targets Years of sweats and swears Have prepared them for this flight; Their target hides in the haven of forgotten sins  far away from the scene of his crime , Praying to a bloodthirsty god With a blood-stained subha Held within trembling fingers  Death came by the first shot And several shots rained To wet the parched throats Of dead voices calling for revenge. Dedicated to the victims of 9/11 attack

  "Ozoemena" I could see their faces through the shadows; The faces that shine and hide stories untold And songs unsung, Of victories through defeats, Of silence through chatterings. Skies don't hang o'cast When glee like the sun does rise; Rainbows come after the rain, Theirs hang there in the middle of the storm that swept us away. The ends means no more beginnings; No more tears, No more struggles, No pain, The end we all dread like a plague. Sudden knocks; Heaven calls; Man bestired; The world unshaken, Man his course must run. Tribute kicks us so hard on our heads like a military boot, Sobs, heaving of the heart, and noiseless shouts rise and fall with unmatched rhythm. The world and things must fall apart Like bottles broken in a street fight All we have are wounded heads And grieving hearts. #Poetry #elegy May comfort all the families of the bereaved in the unfortunate disaster that happened in Enugu. Ozoemena!

 "Ibe" Ibem, my mates have moved on... Their journey tracing the barely travelled paths.  I tried to whet my feet on the stones of grief To brush off the blunt faces of happiness  Gazing at my slumber and slugger Mana ijem siri ike. Ijem, the voices we hear Call our feet to various crossroads  Where decision and fate tumble upon each other. You call to mind the day we set out, Eager as each smile opens a new chapter of this phase Mana nkem no na akachukwu. Nkem, the voices of love that refuse to grow faint, Through the night struggles with life, Through the roaring laughter of mockery, Through the jeers of small minds, We have risen a great clan forged by sincere tears, true  love in one heart. 

"Ka Chi Foo" There were lonely days sown in this dark corners, Where I started my walk through life. I remember them vividly like the sound of my first name TOCHUKWU in the mouths of my busybody neighbours. I saw the wall yawn with hunger As it reflected the images in my belly I knew I could drown and die in the tears that Lay with me like a lake full of sharks. The nights were so long with the constant filtering of noise by nocturnal creatures The dawn was so far beyond my reach No plea could ever bring it closer. I had a neighbour more like a brother Our names both had a T although his had life in it than God: TONDU. He kept his affluence behind close doors And constantly handed me a feigned pity.  And yes, I took it. I had a lover. Had like past possession. She hid in the dark. I heard her voice faintly but loud were her straying and fleeing steps My heart flutter, not of excitement but fear. I had hope with smouldering coals I kept fanning its embers  They kept my heart w...

 "The Saviours " On the Wake of independence, A strange coldness was poured on emaciated souls. Then came the goosebumps The trepidation, The uncertainties Which plagued the tender nation spreading so fast like a ravaging pandemic Through the fabrics of her soul. Black swiftly became white As truth glaring became lies The night settled finally with its full weight As bleeding feet scamper aimlessly in the enveloping darkness. Yet the nation trudge on Despite losing her two eyes The blind led the blinds To walk the thorny path of democracy. Here and there, Ambushes were laid on this wounded nation By men of uniform To wrest power through the guts of bullets than the ballot... But She fought tirelessly, Smeared severally in bloody coups, And fierce protests; Her heroes fell and others rose Until she escaped into the waiting arms of thieves in rich caftans and lofty campaign promises.  THE SAVIOURS who saves us not.

 "Christmas in Gaza" Look beyond the prejudice in the news reports And see our little peaceful town  Caught in a whirlwind of blasting bombs and chattering guns. Look there,  a young mother with an amputated arm wails over her dead two year old Caught by a bullet shot with precision. Our streets are littered with the breathless heaps of our young men, Fighting to repel a blind ravaging bull. Our old men weld machine guns, with their near-to-dead sights. Blinded by both rage and age. Fighter Jets fly over heads Heading for our abandoned homes. They open their dark anus And empty their waste on our homes Turning everything dear to rubbles. The sick,  The wounded,  And the maimed litter our refugee camps But there is no physician to tend a plagued nation  Our physicians are now fighters. "The war must be won!" they say. I miss the serenity of the nights spent at home, I miss the bedtime stories and the peaceful renditions of prayers to Allah, I miss the excite...

 "She is" The earth is blind. I must say that the earth chose to be blind. Because how can anyone not see how she toils away at her task? Morning, afternoon, and even at night. Was it nature or men that tossed it on her? Because she seems so peaceful in her storm. With the rising sun, she sets out Like the mother hen to search for daily bread. Many said she has a lazy head Who depends on the crumbs from her troubles. While he folds his hands in his chest And makes jest of her with his friends. Morning, afternoon and night She toils away at her task. Hoping and praying that fortune would smile back at her. And ease the weight on her shoulders which weighs heavily on her. She manages to smile through her pains, For daily she has to wear this mask. The hope of a mother is in her labour Like a patient farmer  She sows her seeds at all season She guards it to ensure that none is missing. For everything giving to her by God Both Woes and worth Nothing should be missing Even whe...

 "The Poem and the Poet" I wrote you a poem. Yes, I wrote you a poem It was neither to mourn you Or call you. But to announce my retracing steps back to my shell. Where I once was till your beauty wooed me. I ran leaving my senses aside But bearing burning emotions in my heart. It was tender.  It needed to be tended. But it died in the heat of neglect.

 " Believe Love"  I could sing you a million melodies, Of where our hearts met, Through the rough roads of unrequited love To a place where we sits gracefully on a throne: the thrones of our hearts.  Your face shone through the unwavering shadows, To kill this darkness that held my soul captive. It wasn't freedom at last But freedom that will last through this new found joy to eternity Where we will at last know love without doubts.

" The Long Arm of Love"  In a world wrapped in chaotic darkness Unexplainable to the human mind I will be your sea of tranquil affection Where you can plunge in your mountain of pain  And watch them melt like ice in a bowl of heat. Keeping your eyes on your scars  Are blindfolds to what the future holds Which restrains your feet from climbing the  peak of your dreams So unbolt your stars  And draw a canvas of sparkling lights in the sky.  Yesterday has had its way Let's today have it say While we steer through the darkness With hope as our light.

 " Friday Mourning Prayer" At the wake of dawn, As drowsy bodies were yet to stir their tired whole. They come upon us suddenly, Like hungry swarm of locusts, With machetes, arrows, and guns, Thirsty for blood at no cause, Blinded by the blurry slides of religion and tribalism. They shot sporadically at scampering children, And ripped bare the hearts and tummies of pregnant women. Brave men who dared to resist their savagery With bare arms and sticks were butchered like festive holy rams. Bodies were piled up like heaps of sacrifice to a brute god. This massacre went on till the sun was forced out of hiding By the foul smell of burnt flesh and blood As the perpetrators disappear like the morning mist into their religious huts  To observe their daily prayers.

  "Our Votes will Count" The sugarcoated party slogans and their fattened promises, The lies mingled with a drop of truth and the multiple posters that smear the faces of our streets, The feigned smiles with a generic pose of hope,  The crowd pulling campaigns and the brandishing of the magical party wands, The quickly arranged sombre songs of hope with shameful dance steps to mesmerize the faithfuls, Some standing transfixed in the scorching sun, other swaying their waists and stamping their feet on the dusty ground for paltry wraps of notes While the big men hide in raised platforms smiling broadly. It is the most coveted season, In the life cycle of a state When like a snake it should shed its old skin for a new look. But here the new is old, Same old faces, Same old lies, Same old weary promises, Everything is old. The hope locked in the PVC Is simply the more you look,  the less your wishes grow Elections are done in the morning And selections at night They cling vor...

  "The Endless Search"  In search for the cure for a fool, He almost became one Until he was forced back to his wretched holes By the strong fledgling arms of new reasonings  Standing tall against all the body of piled up truth he has ever known. Truth stored up for long  Soon loses its efficacy And become sour in the mouth of youngsters Who the new times have overfed with sweet sense at their fingertips.  How we ever came to this point Has eluded both sense and reason Nonetheless, we are on a march With ourselves, dead or alive, as the perpetual slaves of our search to know which lies beyond knowledge... 

  "To Beg is Crime" I won't beg you for your thoughts anymore, Though mine are daily shared on the streets  by men deprived of home-grown pleasures, Yet, I won't act beggarly before you. No, I won't beg you, even though I am one. We have been warned by you not to be choosers in life Even when the options are myriad.  So we won't admit the conditions of our minds.  No, we will hide behind the cloak of feigned riches, And pocket our huge balls of ignorance from your scolding eyes, To be a beggar is an off-sense, to act rich is good sense. We will be rich before you, But romance in the dark our plenty I-don't- knows  Which we are hated for ever desiring to know.

"The Hungry Soul" When you with scarred feet  Tiptoes into endlessness A ray of light spreads its thin self  To guide the paths of your feeble feet  Through the rough roads of timelessness. The curious hunger in your soul  Yawns endlessly begging for the meat of angels Or the droplets from a salty sea. Here time is static but still runs its course  Circling round and round nothingness Meaningfulness stretches into vagueness And all creation get lost in its search of the Creator.