HOMOSEXUALITY IS NATURAL
Nobody ever though a topic of this nature would become a public discourse. Like a bolt from the sky, it came suddenly; like a thief in the night; it stealthily walked into the vocabulary of the discourse of Nigerian peoples. Like a Royal it has erupted into the pinnacle of the Senate. Will it become law, or will it become a crime?
I am not referring to the practice of homosexuality, but the open discussion of it. Homosexuality is not something taught to Africans by “unscrupulous Europeans”. It is something that has been with us since the beginning of African culture. It is something that has been with us since the dawn of human civilization. It is something that has been with us since pre-civilization days. My brothers and sisters –believe it or not-homosexuality existed even in the animal kingdom. Evolutionists have shown severally that since the dawn of time, it has been practiced.
Today the senate is fighting to criminalize an act that in most cases, is not the fault of the ‘perpetrators’. Even if we take homosexuality to be a crime, it will fall under the same category as madness, imbecility, or left-handedness. Should they legislate a law to punish the aforementioned categories of people? Your answer is as good as mine.
What exactly is homosexuality? It is sexual act between two people of the same sex: man and man, or woman and woman. There are also passive homosexuals: these are people who have sexual feelings and erotic imageries of same sex individuals without actually carrying out such acts. There are also circumstantial homosexuals: these are homosexual practitioners due to circumstances of confinement etc.
About 90% of people have homosexual tendencies, about 5% are strictly homosexual and about 5%; are strictly heterosexual St Aelred the Queer (2006).
After saying this, it will be good to show homosexual practices among animals.
HOMOSEXUALITY IN ANIMALS
A lot of homosexual tendencies have been recorded among animals. Most of these animals were in the wild. They have never come in contact with human beings. The practice is an outlet for sexual release. The animals never felt guilty being homosexuals, nor do other animals legislate to punish the ‘Queer’ animals. Nobody rains Holy Ghost fire on them, nor do they curse them with Yasin. They are perfect the way there are.
James Owen who reported for National Geographic News showed that gay animals were rampant. He saw them in birds, bees, dolphins, penguins, female macaques etc. To his dismay there are a few Ostriches that would not mount female Ostriches; they are only interested in their fellow males. Had the devil possessed these animals? Is Lucifer winning over God? The answer is a simple “no”! It is God’s design for them to be that way. See James Owen, National Geographic News, July 23, 2004 for fuller details.
Frans B.M de Waal carried out a more detailed research on apes. She discovered that homosexual sex is common among apes of all categories: chimpanzees, orangutans, gibbons, gorillas etc. She discovered that it is more rampant among the Bonobo chimpanzees; they are predominantly a matriarchal homosexual-based society. They settle their scores with gay sex; frotting and tribadism is the norm in their society. See her book “Bonobo Sex and Society” online. What will be the Opinion of hard stance moralists and religions zealots? “Kill all the Bonobos”.
From the studies of Owen and Frans de Waal and James Owen, it is evident that homosexual practices take place even in non-human societies: in the animal realm.
It is not only in the animal kingdom, it was present in all ancient human societies.
HOMOSEXUALITY IN ANCIENT AFRICA
What doesn’t exist doesn’t have a name. The sexual vocabulary of African peoples-all across the continent –has a term that could be translated for homosexuality. In Yoruba it is called ‘gbowo’ in Hausa it is called ‘yan dauda’ or’dan dauda’ in Congo and Angola it is called “Jimbandaa”.
On homosexuality in Hausaland, Aelred the Queer says “The Hausa as a people have terms in their language that is used to describe homosexuals. Two terms are common, ‘yan dauda’, which is usually translated as ”homosexual” or “transvestite” and ‘dan dauda’, which translates as homosexual “wife”. The ‘yan dauda in Hausaland engage in stereotypical professions, much marginalised as gay men in the west do”.
The San people of Zimbabwe have paintings in rocks, which shows that homosexual practices have been practiced there for thousands of years. The San people painted vivid scenes of homosexual sex thousands of years ago on the rocks.
The Pangwe of Cameroon have many stories of gay acts in their traditional legends.
People have reported mutual masturbation all over Africa. In fact in most ancient African societies, pre-adolescent homosexual acts, were the norm and not the exception.
“In Cameroon for example, homosexual acts as late as age 17 are considered innocent, not being “true” sexual acts”, (St. Aelred the Queer: 2006)
In Warri Delta state of Nigeria a high chief was called Omote (female in Urhobo ) he was usually romanced by boys, who teased him(her). He had to change his name to avoid these homo-erotic boys Gregpoy Umukoro (1997).
HOMOSEXUALITY IN OTHER ANCIENT CULTURES
In India the practice was rampant and ubiquitous.
Dr. Derdutt Patatuk comments “love of a man for a boy was institutionalized in ancient Greece, amongst Samurais in Japan, in certain African, as well as Polynesian tribes. Amongst some Native and South American tribes, erotic relationship between men was acceptable so long as one of the partners is feminine”. (2006).
In some circles it is connected with religion and it serves a religious function. Hear him “In Indian epics and chronicles, there are occasional reference to same-sex intercourse. For example, in Valmiki Ramayana, Hanuman is said to have seen Rakshasa women kissing the women that were been kissed and embraced by Rawana”.
In India, men who express themselves socially as women are called ‘Hijras’; “Auparashtika” is a term for male masseurs who indulge in oral sex. While in South America they are called ‘berdaches’ and they are believed by the natives to possess mystic powers.
HOMOSEXUALITY IS BIOLOGICAL
By researches carried out by many scientists. It is clear that like left-handedness, and homosexuality is caused by unique characteristics in a persons biological make-up. Far from demon possession, many homomsexuals have some factors in their brains that make them to behave the way they do. Some factors that contribute to the homosexual tendencies are as follows.
1) the shape and structure of the brain itself.
2) Hormonal imbalance
3) Chromosome imbalance
THE BRAIN STRUCTURE
The brains of many homosexual men mimic those of women. Kenneth M Cohen (PhD 2002) discovered that part of the the brain that deals with male sexuality functions are not developed in homosexual men . Instead they have the feminine aspects of their brains developed. It is vice versa for lesbians. Gay men enjoy task that are suitable for women. Hence, many ‘yandaudus’ in the Northern part of the country enjoy streotypical
Feminine tasks.
Laura S Allen (PhD 1992) diiscovers that the ‘anterior commissure’ , a fiber in the brain that that divides the the brain into two halves is larger in its mid sagittal in women than in men. The size of the mid sagittal is only 18% diferrent in homosexual men than in women. The proportion of heterosexual men and women is 34%. In a nutshell the midsagittal is more similar in gay men and women , which accounts for their ‘queer’ sexual behavoir. The mid sagittal is more similar in homosexual men and women , than they are to their straiight counterparts. Simon Levay (2004) noticed that two of the cell groups (nuclei) in the hypothalamus (a part of the brain that controls sex urge ) is larger in hetrosexual men than in women. The cell group nuclei (INAH-3) are the same size in gay men as in women.
2) CHROMOSOME IMBALANCE
The hormones are the bio-chemical substances in one that determines wether one will be a man oor a woman. They are closely connected with the genes . A bilogical girl is usually the result of two X chromosomes coming together at pregnancy. A boy is usually the result of one X and one Y chromosome coming together at pregnancy. Both the male and the female can produce the X chromosomes ; but it is the prerogative of the man to produce the Y chromosome. So, contrary to popular beliefs, the male determines the sex of the child , not the female. But in some rare cases if a woman’s vagina is too acidic , it might kill all the Y chromosome before they get to the womb. But in some rare cases a child might be born with XXY chromosome and they will be come monstrousities and oddities. Many of these people display gay characteristics. Justice Bayo Ojo once wrote about this aberration. But I don’t have the article handy to quote properly.
HORMONAL IMBALANCE
Richard Pillard , a sexologist carried out many experiments.from his findings he discovered that the hormones in most homosexual men are female hormones ; while the hormornes in many lesbian women are male hormones. Here Pilhard is referring to true Homosexuals not the sexuial adventurists. He experimented with rodents(animals like rats ) in the laboratory. Male rats injected in the womb with female hormones display female sexual characteristics. They mimic female rats and had sex with male rats; female rats injected in the womb with male hormones , behaved like male rats and had sex with female rats
To further verify his findings , he carried out more experiments with rhesus monkeys . He discovered that the foetus of female rhesus monkeys that were exposed to male hormones prenatally ,behaved much like males they enjoy the rough-and –tumble play of male rhesus monkeys and had sex wiith fellow femmale monkeys. Pillard discoversd that females (humans) with (CAH) Congenital Adrenal Hypoplasia): that is to say girls that are exposesd to alot of male hormones in the womb display over enlarged clitorises about 2-6 inch monstrous and awesome. These ladies were said to be able to satisfy their mates with their huge and powerful erections. A girl in Warri is rumoured to have a fiver. Due to the excess of male hormones. The ancient Africans realized the oddity in a few women and legislate that all women should be circumcised to ease competition from these types of women who might steal their wives from them. Hence clitoridectomy is now the vogue.
It is cheap to condemn and criticise what we do not understand. This is coming as a sequel to all those who chastised me when I wrote my first article. I am not supporting the gay life , but I am saying one should know enough before bringing harsh criticism. About my sexuality -- yes! I am a happily married man with lot of common sense. I don’t condemn any body until I know all the facts. I still repeat that psychologists, psysciatrists, biologists, anthropologists, historians Political scientist and all those that deal with social and biological aspects of humanity should be in the van of this debate. I am not against born agains and some near demented pastors, but they should discuss facts not religious sentiments not backed by science and common sense.
WHAT IS TO BE DONE?
(1) Allow the act between consenting adults as long as they don’t have their sex in the open.
(2) Punish adults who indulge with minors.
(3) If the gay people cannot be tolerated, The “offenders” should be rehabilitated to “normal” society
Pastors Imams, and those who know very little of biology, religious history and even the humanities should not use their daft and benighted thinking to punish innocent people. Enough is enough!
By
Augustine Oghanrandukun (St . Ifa)
08059046466
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
illeggal naming for university
Re – Ugbomro University
It is with great joy that the citizens of delta state were heralded with the siting of a Federal University in the state – ‘Ugbomro’ in Uvwie clan to be specific.
The siting of a national University in a core oil producing state like delta, one of the economic mainstays in Nigeria is long over due.
The University is the citadel of learning in any economy. It is therefore relevant that a vibrant economy like Delta should be granted a federal University. Since the University happens to be a Petroleum University, its usefulness is invaluable in drawing manpower to run the vibrant oil sector of the state. A petroleum University at ‘Ugbomro’ is therefore invaluable in producing manpower to run the oil sector of the state.
In as much as we are happy with the Obasanjo-Yar Adua administration for granting the desires of Deltans, we are not happy with the naming of the institution.
It will be desirable if the President, honourable members of parliament, Nigerian Universities Commission and the general public know that there is no community in the world known as ‘Ugbomro’. By the laws of the federal republic of Nigeria and the ruling of the highest court in the land – the Supreme Court in suit no sc98\93, the so called ‘Ugbomro’ community is rent paying tenant to Gbolokposo community. The land of Ugbomro was leased to them by Etsoye and Sansan, two descendants of Udefi who gave the land to the Urhobo people of Effurun.
Due to proper negotiation with the Isekiri, they allowed the Ovie of Effurun to be crowned. That was allowed because kingship has no more locus standi in Nigeria of today. It is with great dismay however that our tenants went behind our back to demand for a university, without the consent of us the landlords.
It is improper to cut off a large chunk of Isekiri land and use same to create a university for the Urhobo without the consent of the landlords.
The fact that Ugbomro is in delta central does not make it an Urhobo land. There are other Isekiri towns – Efurokpe, Ogun-Aja, town Sapele, Birifo and several Isekiri towns and villages. We the Gbolokposo descendants in Diaspora want the name of the school to be called Gbolokposo Federal University. We are tired of bloodshed. The executors of the law should be acquainted with the law.
Signed
Austin Ikomi, Eitchie Ederogun, and Emma Bira
For Gbolokposo Descendants in Diaspora
It is with great joy that the citizens of delta state were heralded with the siting of a Federal University in the state – ‘Ugbomro’ in Uvwie clan to be specific.
The siting of a national University in a core oil producing state like delta, one of the economic mainstays in Nigeria is long over due.
The University is the citadel of learning in any economy. It is therefore relevant that a vibrant economy like Delta should be granted a federal University. Since the University happens to be a Petroleum University, its usefulness is invaluable in drawing manpower to run the vibrant oil sector of the state. A petroleum University at ‘Ugbomro’ is therefore invaluable in producing manpower to run the oil sector of the state.
In as much as we are happy with the Obasanjo-Yar Adua administration for granting the desires of Deltans, we are not happy with the naming of the institution.
It will be desirable if the President, honourable members of parliament, Nigerian Universities Commission and the general public know that there is no community in the world known as ‘Ugbomro’. By the laws of the federal republic of Nigeria and the ruling of the highest court in the land – the Supreme Court in suit no sc98\93, the so called ‘Ugbomro’ community is rent paying tenant to Gbolokposo community. The land of Ugbomro was leased to them by Etsoye and Sansan, two descendants of Udefi who gave the land to the Urhobo people of Effurun.
Due to proper negotiation with the Isekiri, they allowed the Ovie of Effurun to be crowned. That was allowed because kingship has no more locus standi in Nigeria of today. It is with great dismay however that our tenants went behind our back to demand for a university, without the consent of us the landlords.
It is improper to cut off a large chunk of Isekiri land and use same to create a university for the Urhobo without the consent of the landlords.
The fact that Ugbomro is in delta central does not make it an Urhobo land. There are other Isekiri towns – Efurokpe, Ogun-Aja, town Sapele, Birifo and several Isekiri towns and villages. We the Gbolokposo descendants in Diaspora want the name of the school to be called Gbolokposo Federal University. We are tired of bloodshed. The executors of the law should be acquainted with the law.
Signed
Austin Ikomi, Eitchie Ederogun, and Emma Bira
For Gbolokposo Descendants in Diaspora
illeggal naming for university
Re – Ugbomro University
It is with great joy that the citizens of delta state were heralded with the siting of a Federal University in the state – ‘Ugbomro’ in Uvwie clan to be specific.
The siting of a national University in a core oil producing state like delta, one of the economic mainstays in Nigeria is long over due.
The University is the citadel of learning in any economy. It is therefore relevant that a vibrant economy like Delta should be granted a federal University. Since the University happens to be a Petroleum University, its usefulness is invaluable in drawing manpower to run the vibrant oil sector of the state. A petroleum University at ‘Ugbomro’ is therefore invaluable in producing manpower to run the oil sector of the state.
In as much as we are happy with the Obasanjo-Yar Adua administration for granting the desires of Deltans, we are not happy with the naming of the institution.
It will be desirable if the President, honourable members of parliament, Nigerian Universities Commission and the general public know that there is no community in the world known as ‘Ugbomro’. By the laws of the federal republic of Nigeria and the ruling of the highest court in the land – the Supreme Court in suit no sc98\93, the so called ‘Ugbomro’ community is rent paying tenant to Gbolokposo community. The land of Ugbomro was leased to them by Etsoye and Sansan, two descendants of Udefi who gave the land to the Urhobo people of Effurun.
Due to proper negotiation with the Isekiri, they allowed the Ovie of Effurun to be crowned. That was allowed because kingship has no more locus standi in Nigeria of today. It is with great dismay however that our tenants went behind our back to demand for a university, without the consent of us the landlords.
It is improper to cut off a large chunk of Isekiri land and use same to create a university for the Urhobo without the consent of the landlords.
The fact that Ugbomro is in delta central does not make it an Urhobo land. There are other Isekiri towns – Efurokpe, Ogun-Aja, town Sapele, Birifo and several Isekiri towns and villages. We the Gbolokposo descendants in Diaspora want the name of the school to be called Gbolokposo Federal University. We are tired of bloodshed. The executors of the law should be acquainted with the law.
Signed
Austin Ikomi, Eitchie Ederogun, and Emma Bira
For Gbolokposo Descendants in Diaspora
It is with great joy that the citizens of delta state were heralded with the siting of a Federal University in the state – ‘Ugbomro’ in Uvwie clan to be specific.
The siting of a national University in a core oil producing state like delta, one of the economic mainstays in Nigeria is long over due.
The University is the citadel of learning in any economy. It is therefore relevant that a vibrant economy like Delta should be granted a federal University. Since the University happens to be a Petroleum University, its usefulness is invaluable in drawing manpower to run the vibrant oil sector of the state. A petroleum University at ‘Ugbomro’ is therefore invaluable in producing manpower to run the oil sector of the state.
In as much as we are happy with the Obasanjo-Yar Adua administration for granting the desires of Deltans, we are not happy with the naming of the institution.
It will be desirable if the President, honourable members of parliament, Nigerian Universities Commission and the general public know that there is no community in the world known as ‘Ugbomro’. By the laws of the federal republic of Nigeria and the ruling of the highest court in the land – the Supreme Court in suit no sc98\93, the so called ‘Ugbomro’ community is rent paying tenant to Gbolokposo community. The land of Ugbomro was leased to them by Etsoye and Sansan, two descendants of Udefi who gave the land to the Urhobo people of Effurun.
Due to proper negotiation with the Isekiri, they allowed the Ovie of Effurun to be crowned. That was allowed because kingship has no more locus standi in Nigeria of today. It is with great dismay however that our tenants went behind our back to demand for a university, without the consent of us the landlords.
It is improper to cut off a large chunk of Isekiri land and use same to create a university for the Urhobo without the consent of the landlords.
The fact that Ugbomro is in delta central does not make it an Urhobo land. There are other Isekiri towns – Efurokpe, Ogun-Aja, town Sapele, Birifo and several Isekiri towns and villages. We the Gbolokposo descendants in Diaspora want the name of the school to be called Gbolokposo Federal University. We are tired of bloodshed. The executors of the law should be acquainted with the law.
Signed
Austin Ikomi, Eitchie Ederogun, and Emma Bira
For Gbolokposo Descendants in Diaspora
african culture and homosexuality
Homosexuality: tolerated by African culture.
This is a rejoinder to Jide Macaulay’s “coming out of the closet” experience as relayed in the Mirror magazine of 31st July, 2007. True Macaulay stated a lot of things that are factual, but he made a most pathetic historical blunder, by supposing that African culture abhorred homosexuality..
Macaulay cannot really be blamed for his ahistorical positioning, because according to him,he stayed most of his life outside this country. It is good however to state that Africans never hated or persecuted homosexuality in ancient times. Many Africans_ well groomed in Africa_ still make the same fallacy of judgment and presumption. The truth is African culture never abhorred homosexuality; African culture never condemned homosexuality; African culture never tabooed homosexuality; African culture was silent_ tolerated homosexuality!
I make bold to say that that in Africa there are specific punishments for specific offences (sins). Some punishments are physical, some spiritual. Let’s take adultery as an illustration. In almost all ancient Nigerian communities, if a man commits adultery with another man's wife, he was asked o pay serious damages to the husband. He had brought shame to the husband by seeing his 'secrecy' in some communities both man and women are paraded naked in the society; in more extreme cases, both are stoned to death. If the people are not caught the 'spirits' take over the policing job. Three things might happen: the husband of the adulterous woman might die; the children of both the adulterous man and woman might start dying prematurely; and lastly, the woman might find it difficult to give birth during labour pangs. Any how the woman or man has to confess and have their sins forgiven. In those days proper ritual baths (ablution) will be performed for the 'sinners' before they could enter the holy (sacred shrine) of the ancestors
Where a married man had sex with a non married woman, the man is asked to pay the amount of the bride price to the girl’s father since he has made her a 'door' instead of a formidable 'wall' . So many girls then married as virgins. Most of our mothers are living witnesses to that Golden age of African purity. Some blood - stained white cloths kept by many grannies are testimonies to this fact.
In many parts of Edo-Delta: Ishan, Itsekiri, Urhobo , Bini, Isoko etc, the gods still take precedence in judging adulterous cases of unscrupulous 'couples'. Yes, in this day 2007! The African gods are still powerful. God bless the souls of our beloved ancestors! Amen!
The punishment against adultery is well spelt out. But I ask: what is the punishment for homosexuality (lesbianism included) any one who knows of the format of punishment of gays, before the advent of the white man? Among the Yoruba, there are many jujus against adulterers. One of the popular jujus is the magun. There are different categories of magun. One good word for feminists, 'maguns' is targeted at eliminating male adulterers not female adulteresses. Most of the time the 'straying' man will be 'electrocuted' by the power of the juju, he will crow thrice and die like a fowl.
Twin births were also punished in Africa in these days. It took a Mary Slessor to stop twin killing in Calabar; it took education to stop twin killing in Itsekiri, Urhobo , Isoko etc; it took education to stop the Yoruba to stop erecting 'orisha-ibeji' shrines for their twins. I ask again what is the punishment for homosexuality(lesbianism) in Africa? If it is not punished, then it was tolerated.
Many anthropologists and intellectuals have written about many crimes in ancient Nigeria and the punishment spelt out for them. Wole Soyinke in "The Lion and The Jewel" displayed that if a young girl is defiled, she had to succumbed to his defiler and settle down, thus Sidi, the village belle, left Lakunle's advances and settled in Baroka's harem. Chinua Achebe just won the Booker awards, he displayed in his novels the punishment given to twin births; John S Mbiti(African religions and Philosophy) never mentioned any punishment meted to homosexual; Omoneukanrin(itsekiri Law and Custom;1948); says nothing about punishment against homosexuals; Alagoa and Ikime, two of the greatest historians of the Niger-delta region , have not come up with any specific punishment meted to gays in those days. All those who say African culture tabooed homosexxuality should come up with their proofs, and stop judging from pure and crass sentimentalism.
Many might be tempted to say that homosexuality never existed in ancient Nigeria . It existed, and copious references to it are in most Nigerian societies. I am tempted to believe that the ancients indulge freely in some form of gay life before marriage, judging from the way there are no sanctions on the 'crime' by the ancients. Homophobia , female discrimination, individualism are all modern sins. They crept into Nigeria (Africa even ,) through colonial intrusion . Homophobia (believe it or not ) is a product of the Abrahamic religions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam, in that chronological order. By Abrahamic , I mean religions that took their premise on revelations given to Abraham. Africans never discriminated any body for their sexual preference. Afr5icans were too civilized for that!
Thus, homophobia, the fear and chastisement of gays is totally alien to the African culture. Yes , homosexuality and homoerotic plays abounded in ancient Africa. Refer to Augustine oghanrandukun 15th March, 2007, National Mirror)
In the Itsekiri area, a masculine woman is given a male praise name(akpuja ; ekiki), an effeminate man is given a female praise name(akpuja; ekiki) One local govt chairman in the Warri are in those days actually had a female praise name. Among the Urhobos, a feminine and beautiful looking man is called 'omote'(female). One of the chiefs in the Warri area, had a father so nicknamed. Young boys usually romanced him , he became terribly annoyed of the whole show and he had to change his name.(Gideon Umukoro; 1997), It is true the man in question hated the plays, but the boys romancing him must have enjoyed the homo-erotic plays. In a southern Nigerian kingdom the tale is told about a woman who had a penis(over-enlarged clitoris?) with which she made love to the other kings wives and made them frigid. Did she introduce the others to the lesbian way of life, and made them abhor heterosexual sex?
Stories are legion; no spelt out punishments are stated. Yes, Jide Macaulay did a splendid job, but he ought to have consulted authorities before making a sweeping statement. I agree with him homosexuals should be cured, rehabilitated, counseled and helped. But he should research well before making conclusions on African history.
By
Augustine Oghanrandukun(St Ifa)
08059046466
This is a rejoinder to Jide Macaulay’s “coming out of the closet” experience as relayed in the Mirror magazine of 31st July, 2007. True Macaulay stated a lot of things that are factual, but he made a most pathetic historical blunder, by supposing that African culture abhorred homosexuality..
Macaulay cannot really be blamed for his ahistorical positioning, because according to him,he stayed most of his life outside this country. It is good however to state that Africans never hated or persecuted homosexuality in ancient times. Many Africans_ well groomed in Africa_ still make the same fallacy of judgment and presumption. The truth is African culture never abhorred homosexuality; African culture never condemned homosexuality; African culture never tabooed homosexuality; African culture was silent_ tolerated homosexuality!
I make bold to say that that in Africa there are specific punishments for specific offences (sins). Some punishments are physical, some spiritual. Let’s take adultery as an illustration. In almost all ancient Nigerian communities, if a man commits adultery with another man's wife, he was asked o pay serious damages to the husband. He had brought shame to the husband by seeing his 'secrecy' in some communities both man and women are paraded naked in the society; in more extreme cases, both are stoned to death. If the people are not caught the 'spirits' take over the policing job. Three things might happen: the husband of the adulterous woman might die; the children of both the adulterous man and woman might start dying prematurely; and lastly, the woman might find it difficult to give birth during labour pangs. Any how the woman or man has to confess and have their sins forgiven. In those days proper ritual baths (ablution) will be performed for the 'sinners' before they could enter the holy (sacred shrine) of the ancestors
Where a married man had sex with a non married woman, the man is asked to pay the amount of the bride price to the girl’s father since he has made her a 'door' instead of a formidable 'wall' . So many girls then married as virgins. Most of our mothers are living witnesses to that Golden age of African purity. Some blood - stained white cloths kept by many grannies are testimonies to this fact.
In many parts of Edo-Delta: Ishan, Itsekiri, Urhobo , Bini, Isoko etc, the gods still take precedence in judging adulterous cases of unscrupulous 'couples'. Yes, in this day 2007! The African gods are still powerful. God bless the souls of our beloved ancestors! Amen!
The punishment against adultery is well spelt out. But I ask: what is the punishment for homosexuality (lesbianism included) any one who knows of the format of punishment of gays, before the advent of the white man? Among the Yoruba, there are many jujus against adulterers. One of the popular jujus is the magun. There are different categories of magun. One good word for feminists, 'maguns' is targeted at eliminating male adulterers not female adulteresses. Most of the time the 'straying' man will be 'electrocuted' by the power of the juju, he will crow thrice and die like a fowl.
Twin births were also punished in Africa in these days. It took a Mary Slessor to stop twin killing in Calabar; it took education to stop twin killing in Itsekiri, Urhobo , Isoko etc; it took education to stop the Yoruba to stop erecting 'orisha-ibeji' shrines for their twins. I ask again what is the punishment for homosexuality(lesbianism) in Africa? If it is not punished, then it was tolerated.
Many anthropologists and intellectuals have written about many crimes in ancient Nigeria and the punishment spelt out for them. Wole Soyinke in "The Lion and The Jewel" displayed that if a young girl is defiled, she had to succumbed to his defiler and settle down, thus Sidi, the village belle, left Lakunle's advances and settled in Baroka's harem. Chinua Achebe just won the Booker awards, he displayed in his novels the punishment given to twin births; John S Mbiti(African religions and Philosophy) never mentioned any punishment meted to homosexual; Omoneukanrin(itsekiri Law and Custom;1948); says nothing about punishment against homosexuals; Alagoa and Ikime, two of the greatest historians of the Niger-delta region , have not come up with any specific punishment meted to gays in those days. All those who say African culture tabooed homosexxuality should come up with their proofs, and stop judging from pure and crass sentimentalism.
Many might be tempted to say that homosexuality never existed in ancient Nigeria . It existed, and copious references to it are in most Nigerian societies. I am tempted to believe that the ancients indulge freely in some form of gay life before marriage, judging from the way there are no sanctions on the 'crime' by the ancients. Homophobia , female discrimination, individualism are all modern sins. They crept into Nigeria (Africa even ,) through colonial intrusion . Homophobia (believe it or not ) is a product of the Abrahamic religions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam, in that chronological order. By Abrahamic , I mean religions that took their premise on revelations given to Abraham. Africans never discriminated any body for their sexual preference. Afr5icans were too civilized for that!
Thus, homophobia, the fear and chastisement of gays is totally alien to the African culture. Yes , homosexuality and homoerotic plays abounded in ancient Africa. Refer to Augustine oghanrandukun 15th March, 2007, National Mirror)
In the Itsekiri area, a masculine woman is given a male praise name(akpuja ; ekiki), an effeminate man is given a female praise name(akpuja; ekiki) One local govt chairman in the Warri are in those days actually had a female praise name. Among the Urhobos, a feminine and beautiful looking man is called 'omote'(female). One of the chiefs in the Warri area, had a father so nicknamed. Young boys usually romanced him , he became terribly annoyed of the whole show and he had to change his name.(Gideon Umukoro; 1997), It is true the man in question hated the plays, but the boys romancing him must have enjoyed the homo-erotic plays. In a southern Nigerian kingdom the tale is told about a woman who had a penis(over-enlarged clitoris?) with which she made love to the other kings wives and made them frigid. Did she introduce the others to the lesbian way of life, and made them abhor heterosexual sex?
Stories are legion; no spelt out punishments are stated. Yes, Jide Macaulay did a splendid job, but he ought to have consulted authorities before making a sweeping statement. I agree with him homosexuals should be cured, rehabilitated, counseled and helped. But he should research well before making conclusions on African history.
By
Augustine Oghanrandukun(St Ifa)
08059046466
Monday, March 15, 2010
niger delta sonnets and haikus
PEACE KEEPING SONGS AND SONNETS TO THE NIGER DELTA
By
Niger Delta Literary Forum
For Peace And Development
UNITY SONNETS TO THE NIGER DELTA STATES
THE NIGER DELTA GOVERNORS
Authors
Honsbira(Eyebira Agharowu
St Ifa(Augustine Oritseweyinmi Oghanrandukun Olomu
Sponsored by
1. chapter one
Introductory
Invoking Shakespeare
Forgive me, Shakespeare, if I mangle your
Style with taints and flaws and use your love songs
For tales of fire for wretched and for poor.
Forgive, if your love songs are smired with warring gongs.
The Deltan skins are rucked with tales of blood.
The skins are botched with penury’s sad chains,
Full swollen like sad toucan’s skull- a flood
Of constant cries unending wails and pains.
Thank you, sweet Shakespeare, for your style and rhyme,
For budding rosy lines from nascent verse
Foor brewing vinous songs to cure our clime
For times of pain of woe and times adverse.
Now is time for the master’s voice of gold
To steer the Deltan minds from fear to bold.
St Ifa
Governor Sullivan Chime 1
Chime, we stood with pains beside the sleeping creeks.
Fierce fears sing tunes upon our hearts of woes.
Beside our fears we stood with shaking teeth
The Deltan creeks pierce us with spears of death.
Lean penury stood bold like most cruel pain
On shadows of our meretricious voes.
Our most rucked skins like tattered rags are tales
Of gruesome creeks upon our wasted lives.
Great chime comes to cure our pangs of dread,
His pure white teeth chase our most latent fears .
Beside the dream of dread, aside the pains
Of death, his smile stands bold, the cure profound
Of silent grief thet stand with pain upon
Our land molesting them with songs of joy.
St Ifa
SULLIVAN CHIME 2
Cursed by the nectar of the flower rose
Buds of sight by sunbeam on the dove
Caused to cry aloud in intertwined love
Fused with wire from the sacred heart above
Used in days when for last days we move
You won the race for the people
You are Jaja of Opobo.
Beliveve in God like the bee in the hive
Befriend to procure like the sun and the leaves
Bestride the road where good with evil co-lives
Behold, living things are nature’s wives
Beware of good like night the thieves
Do come down, good Allah
Do come, freedom, in Ben Bella.
Honsbira
Obong Godswill Akpabio 1
Their cries are balloons of girls’ hope
That floats like sweet virginity of youth.
Like childlike foam of youthful fantasy,
Mere bubbles of vain foam were pricked with thorns,
The thorns of woe pierce much our dreams of yore.
Our virgin hopes were pricked with spears of hope.
Our hymens ripped , speak tales of hidden want
That stabs the Deltan creeks with most cruel spears.
Virginity of yore shall sing with zest .
On happy days shall we stand with tall hope.
When melic songs shall float from our pure heads
When rapists’ rods are cut with valiant scythes
When deflowered creeks will sing with chants of joy,
God’s will will stand with Grace upon our creeks
St Ifa
Ø
Godwill Akpabio 2
Sinners oppressor, fighter of show-off carnal
Binder of the legs and palms of snake dimensional
Pincher of the race of Druid motivational
Cinder to anger that stands totalitarian
Kinder, I think, are your lease metropolitan
As you come in, free us,
As our focus leap on locus.
Balling every where, you’ll remake here
Calling to people and nations who don’t fear
Trawling the genii who make here rare
Falling into the temple where all’s sincere
Crawling toward him who with live ark cohere
We are comely, in aloneness
We have come to seriousness.
Honsbira
Governor Liyel Imoke
Our songs were dins upon our wasted creeks,
Like donkey’s doleful bray, they cry with blood
That drowns us with molesting tides and flood.
Sore jaundiced eye of creeks , lean pleasure seeks.
How can sour creeks peck grains with beauteous beaks
Like some strange birds that seek with zest the broad
And wide uncouth sere mud, that vile worms brood
Their lazy lives in ugly smells and reeks?
Imoke comes with songs of joy. And bold
Like day, his harps of love are songs of hope
No more shall we sing oily songs of death
Like some lorn swans in alien muds and cold.
No more shall we like some strange blind birds grope
In oily mud, nor swim in plenteous dearth.
St Ifa
Governor Liyel Imoke2
The conscience of nature is your agogo;
Delinked from crave for self at ago;
Derobed of the dress of greed, long a go;
Demurring, you bade good bye and grow;
Debased looters for good name cry “yo, oh, oh”.
Your touch on my nature,
Your life ovule yields culture
Culture of muse keeps me amused;
Odour of criss-cross in bric- a-brac abused;
Doctor of hope makes my full life well used;
Actors of life keep the place fused;
Decoeur, keep off by Lugard confused.
It’s no life in danger
It’s where Imoke is the changer
Honsbira
Doctor Emmanuel Uduaghan1
Strange wars cry bold in rivers of grim pain.
The creeks of peace were plied by hearts of rock.
Cruel stony hearts chained our sore souls with lock.
Raw ire steered creeks with horse’s wicked rein.
We wore strange fears in necks like lions grim mane.
Our lazy creeks were war grounds of ill-luck,
Vexed with most angry vests with rags that ruck.
Our oily creeks were roused with wars insane.
Sir Emma comes to cleans the creeks of blood,
His genial smiles light our sweet souls with life;
His jovial mien is songs of hope to us,
A magic wand, his fan blows the cruel flood,
With sweet cool breeze that cures the creeks of strife.
Our creeks shall know no angst or wailing loss!
St Ifa
Doctor Emmanuel Uduaghan 2
Together, the earth and heaven will meet;
Deliver, the lord’s partner in a fleet;
Danger lurks like flies in the sugar beet;
Maneouvre this formula to reggae beat;
Saver of the sun, your yore the sun has lit.
This is pure like your mind.
Kiss me Emma, you’re kind.
Caught in the net of the sweet honey bee;
Fought ills to stand bye and honourably;
Cut in twain by faith in God of gods, who be;
Fort of truth like Keats keeps me like the obi
May our kola keep us bold;
Day and night to make us gold.
Honsbira
Timipre Sylva 1
Appearance can mislead like glass of shame
Upon slow pictures false of hidden fame.
Appearance can mislead like cloud of lies
Upon green crazy smiles of fitful wries.
Appearance can mislead like tales of woe
Upon cruel apish grins of gruesome foes.
Appearance can mislead like joy of pain
Upon cruel rosy thorns of flowery reign.
Like silver linings from clouds of dim night,
Your shiny smiles blight light with radiant light.
Upon the rivers of death’s eau you smiled,
Your sweet dentition lulls the creeks that cried.
May your bold Sylvan peace upon our creeks
Make our pale face smile bold with plumpy cheeks.
St Ifa
Timipre Sylva 2
Stable are you to the whirligig of rig,
Able and manifest silver, unusually big;
Cable antidisinterst form to dig;
Staple foods of life enrich dermis of Indian pig;
Apple in flowers and fruits, not the fig.
Name these names in times to be!
Che sara sara- what’ll be will be
Aware are you of the sign of things dim;
Around the growth of science on art keen;
Abide with the hard work of never to end fin;
Abused like Jesus at palm and foot without sin;
Appear twice like the Biu to be seen.
Fame of God, when shall I be?
St Ifa
Comrade Oshiomhole Adams 1
The bloody face of oil came with great ire
That set our land on fire, our souls on shame.
Oil’s bloody face gave us a most strange name
“Leave relics of past age to strange desire;
Burn out the passions pure on useless pyre”.
Our forest lands were raped of finest game.
Our garden lands prostrate like helpless dame.
Grim oil consumes our land with angry fire.
Our lean sour hearts were tamed by your glad face,
Unbinding pangs of hearts with songs of joy.
Our barren lands were tamed by works of grace,
That stops the oily fiend with evil ploy.
We spread our golden grace like satin lace
Unleashing peace to work with full employ.
St Ifa
Comrade Oshiomhole Adams2
Into the big hands we drop the quest;
Inside our store the basin stretched;
Ink pot to change our change to the best;
Inform the democrats now to rest;
In the time of U S A, Britain and the rest.
And to sing all the time;
And to drink the ancient wine.
Really the torrential hours of doom;
Rarely , won’t withstand the aura of boom;
Merrily posed against the faults in loom;
Early taking roots on the new sugared loam;
Hilly ones, teachered, pierced on wise dome,
All silly ones are wise;
All the lame will rise.
Honsbira
Imo State Governor
Sore angry tones were dins upon our land;
With martial wind they sing in evil clime,
Like tunes of death, Satan’s aching rheum,
Green oily songs tune jigs on slimy sand.
Poor oily dire , the jigs of ancient brand.
Our poorly souls were wrapped in oily slime
On hell’s cruel path with tunes that Lethewards climb.
With tunes of deaths in brand of evil grand,
You came with light to tame our song of night .
Angelic smiles beam from your face like lark
Of love that beams with joy and beauty bright.
Our stone-like fears from oily holes of dark,
Are lit by vibrant smiles of your soft might;
Are lit by smiles of love- your wondrous mark.
St Ifa
Governor Ikedi Ohakim
Wool of care on your hair coils like fresh dew;
Tool of rule you highlight in books not few;
Bull that gores will knock off blocks undue;
Lull of centuries of renewed life to rue;
Pull the chariots of Ramat full time in queue.
Some thoughts haunt some silence;
Norm of peace in all essence.
Bow you do so as to grow;
Low to the height who on God’s behalf crow;
Below your wise eyne, fast like crow;
Toe the good things of life and allow
Bello or Billy on the Geography show.
The wherefore lends credence;
The therefore shows difference.
Honsbira
Governor Agagu 1
We live like pests upon the angry shore.
Green oily wars were plagues upon our bourns.
The foes did come with songs of oil and raw.
With ape-like dins, they groan in gruesome mourn.
What with cruel ploys they plant the trees of lies
Like raging giant of wicked odious seeds.
Plots thickened red – malicious woes and sighs;
Decoying souls like chicks with maizelike beads.
Sweet rains of love upon our hearts of yore,
Are your rhyme tales to tame our souls with love.
Sweet love exudes like happy songs from your
Cool mien- a cool look that good things approve.
Who can stop the man with the brazen sword,
Who can stop heaven’s decree
wide and broad?
St Ifa
Governor Agagu 2
Sick ones are whole in the fold of your rays;
Pick any by the die who for this prays;
kick off greed creed castle these same days;
Dick and Harry hurry to thing which pays;
Tick us in the book of law of grace.
I’ll say more in time anear
I’ve stayed long enough to hear.
Bed of the altar of God, me don’t release!
Shed of the goldsmith of heaven, me do increase;
Red crown of poems of rude hue will decrease;
Fed up with riotous tendency, I apply for peace;
Bread heavier than lead, what are these?
We’ll with poems rule the world anew.
With Ondo ancient land in view .
Honsbira
Rivers state governor 1
With quest we walk upon the creeks of woe;
Molested much by evil tales of war.
Uncouth cruel crimes grew tall in shameful row.
How comes green songs of yore stand at the fore
Of creeks devising oily songs of death?
How comes plain plenteous plum smile bold at creeks
With genial dins of robust aching mirth?
Cruel penury drains much our oily cheeks.
When rains of joy descend on patchy land,
When dews of love tame soul with joyful song,
When beautous flower seed forth its comely brand
Of fruits and glad rhymes ring with heaven’s gong,
We shall with love sing full the songs of praise,
Approving much your work in glorious days.
St Ifa
Rivers state governor2
This is the hope of this clan in its true form;
These are the deep graves Jesus came out from;
Is this, then, the man who is to come?
Kiss one; and two; the clan will reform!
Please, be told, this news, you the world informs.
Niger delta speaks of ability;
Niger leaders boast of alacrity.
Fore or hind this is the banner till we die;
Your liver, hard like lion’s , chases them to fly;
Lore of cross-gain must hang bye;
Cure to kine of peace we’ll always try;
Yore or lore; fate or hate; some will cry
Of Niger Delta realism,
Of this true unism.
Honsbira
Conclusion
My Menorah of nine saints
My bright Menorah beams lore of nine saints.
Our candles bright, brush off our darkly pents.
Not even darkest Hades spell and curse
Can scarce accuse our souls with timid force.
Upon the oily paths we tread with care
Like birds of joy with not a care to spare.
When oily soots chase our sour minds from rest,
When olden cares pierce sore our will and zest,
Nine saints stand bold above our comely fears,
Unleashing fluids that wash our pains and tears.
When angry creeks were torn with smiling rage,
And muddy banks stare like arts on quiet page,
The nine great saints, brave masters of lost time,
Flash sweet angelic smile upon our clime.
St Ifa
Chapter two
Unity Sonnets to the Niger Delta Lands and States
Honsbira’s Songs of Love
to the Niger Delta
Abia
What shall we do to sustain your dreams?
To live, true, on suits girded to the road.
Your hands to flash happy rays and beams;
Not like Oyashiwo rays, a home of gods!
You can drought to be; can you drought in rains?
In droughts our spacey children play at night.
Roll on brown soil like brown builder’s cranes.
This aloneness, lone, on the night they bite.
When your rains wet, they do so round and round.
In this, there is dualism of nature.
For when the sun meets the rains, all is sound.
In tune with plurality of nature.
The Abia assonance of dry and wet
Informs, instructs, teaches: so, all is set.
Akwa Ibom
You make me long for true life of bliss
For there latitudes of holy ones here.
The olive you pluck in the hope of peace
We do pray for quiet here, year on year.
You tell the tale of the Niger Delta fine
Like the long shore drift and the ocean deep;
Like the cock that tells the life tale of time.
Akwa Ibom , your fruits won’t we all eat?
This home, young like baby bird on lime tree,
Self sustaining like the tree they use,
You take no drop through Mother bird to be free.
You procure for all, your lime juice.
When time grows old and lime juice turns milky,
Our baby flies up in joy singing ‘kin, ki’
Bayelsa
This hard box, my home, gummy, in long songs
Each day, each night, we make some strange songs and sing.
When, in all, I came home here at last long,
The navel of the dear mother to cling,
Without the milk sweet breast with which to fuse,
In dog joy to dog up to her as soft pet,
From east to west – from here – we cry in ruse.
There’re streams in place; we can’t bathe the back wet.
Mum, we’re back; as we bathe in your wet sun,
Thought closely still, in heed of this we feel
Like children, lonely, dragged to this nurse scion,
Mum, I dance, I sing, I see you as real!
So haunted. My Mum, oh Num, I do roam.
For like a heap of logic I come home.
Cross rivers
We will get what we want; what we want is:
Soft days on currents of the whispering creek.
How can we, be your teller of stories,
And how to drift with the fish, with head sleak?
The river orbs to smile to give us news;
Round the souls of salt brooks, well and erect.
The soul of the creeks to power our sinews.
Here only lazy ones frown – who elect.
Such time in the high drift of the rivers
We always watch the shape of our riches
At ease we lay to watch the bird weavers
In line with the long shore and the beaches.
In Cross River , at ease, in truth, we lay,
Like ancient cattle set for rye and hay.
Delta
Your beams of this life beat up my pure mind.
Hard men you bear asyour pseudopodia.
In minutes, in hours, I pray for your kind
In the rich page of encyclopaedia
Like kame in fame, in real name – not just a frame.
You undid chats of the chit chats un-named.
By words of mouth, these are some of the tame.
History mounts on history; yet it gets blamed.
In crises, in tears, in pains, we are long away;
Though we are blaming forces from the afar,
To us as one we think we’ve known the way
The only way our own fault shall offer
In the land of interstate Algebra,
We trade wit for wit like boas and cobras.
Edo state
Edo, done by old imperial machines,
From pains in the head and in myopia,
From low imperials curses in vaccines,
The low imperial, malice in their ria,
There is Benin , Niger Delta red cousin.
Did you go down to blameless dishonour?
Nana did witness that you knew no sin!
That you are no recipient, but a donor!
You pray this hard the truth will come one day.
From factory of FESTAC, the fact will burst.
We pray too hard: “let it all show”, we pray.
So, Benin market of History will cost.
The nation brags of you and you. Edo,
The world rings your rich bell in much ado.
Imo State
Are you a chaste town on a yamly sial ?
Oh Imo, cluster of the man-made wealth.
Are you a height of greens and a sun dial?
Oh Imo, inspired, my life I unsheathe.
Can I, in accord with your soft soul
Stand firm, moon-soft, stand tall, Rose as witness
Driven fast by current of life like sole?
Your Niger Deltaness stands in essence
It’s well, we’ll hold true to the Igueship,
This will do the geometry of peace fair
Oh god screw some hard nuts on our sonship
Of the rude anti Deltans you will not fear.
Blue Imo, green blue Imo I do move:
“ON THE FLOOD OF THE DELTA , YOU’RE A DOVE”
Ondo State
Like a beam of light through the morn you pierce
And cross rocks to Akure retina
And by now all these ones live in hot fears.
Then, in a steel lid box or container,
Let the rocks all be taken out of ‘Re.
Can Ondo stretch up her hands up to God?
With her with true peace, Ondo will cohere.
In the time of flood with Noah up on board.
This said, we say the other side, you know.
The fire of Mose lights up our sprite,
And the ship Columbus safe at Ohio ,
Take us where Bible-Koran we can site.
Please do me some fine deed, my state, God begs!
We’re lost sons, homing; please keep us like eggs.
Rivers
In tune with lines and fuses anti war,
Your hope is long; your rarities confirm
The much mode made in womb of wealth and ware.
Two rich nods to your worth is yet to affirm
The prayers of those pikes that bask in Deghele.
These prayers have not come; though they are gold.
With nature and the port you are cordiale.
You gods, oh you lords, keep us in this fold.
Where heaven shares her pride with humankind;
Here we are wise and can catch the turtle
In Rivers, in kiss with Nigeriankind;
Ah! We are as wise as Aristotle.
Our eyes are red, red with years and with dare;
Sweet nature knows this; to us she is bare.
Chapter six
The Reality of Peace in the Niger Delta: How Peace Will Come
(By Honsbira)
A . The Creed
This farm has fish, I will farm in this lake
It has no bitch, I will fish for fish sake
This clash does not include the white pike fish
But the bream and brills that are too rich
Here, not like thither, nature is too seal
Bream and brill’are safe for I have got no creel
As we trick all each and all, I have pains
I dare not look at them, my neck has sprains.
The Niger Delta,weat,gives all our need
Things nature placed, full and firm, give me need
A poetic range and plaint I have to cross
These create ripples which on water crises-cross
The mother, weak, provides necessities
The Delta mum works to extremities.
B
These over zealous rallies of low spree
As under valued valleys of low tree
Shall soon undo us as innocent being
As far removed we are from all higher thing
In this place where children, wise,old ones, fool,
Sob in place where we don’t get to the full
In this clan, where in much, we weep in none
Attacked by hard teeth of the wicked drone
Like pilgrims, hope lay in us, though we fail
Like orphans in few things, though we fail
Our wits are at rage, but when shall this de?
Since sweet fruit we secrete like the sweet bee,
The cold, the weak, the sick are all hopeless
Like tyrants over us long, too coreless
C
New men are up here the wounds to heal
You saw the plateanx?They methed to your feel
You’re a light,you pay your war bill
Who will tell the tale, the harsh scale on the ceil?
Woo or hute, owl in air, own in hell
Few, or none, including you’ll ring the bell
View the tangibles in air over the hill
Do you see? You can Bismarck place fill
Coup the dragon until his demon scales peel
Due to the law of knife and yam, jack and full
Dew of heaven grip our head, real
Due is due to and the too long time.
Blue olive bless you: you do not kill
Bin Playtex around you, an Hazard n’er ail
Knew you they rejoice and help the seal?
Cue the Host of Heaven in crest and keel
Hew us with love, how you will
Chew bitter pills with bitter ills to deal
Mien your cat at all who under deal
Glue the scions of lioness to freedom fill
Glue of boredom of long life melts the ceil
True, the people loins or coins will know no ill
Give land shall kiss men, to God both shall kneel
D
This meretricious music of sweet god
In poisonous beat of sweet taste in gourd
Like much sweet sugar harmful to the self
Are Israel self and her lone josephs self-
To sugar to gall, the first redeemer
Of Abraham Ease in dilemma
Poised and lanced they plan to dress us with louse,
And our life hid in the corner of our blouse,
What is life, if in the die it does lay?
What am I, if on my head the louse stays?
Yes, one should not with flies or like relate!
Yes, true, on safely rostrum I orate
Dressed in insurance, I’m out of the love,
Blessed assurance, I an above the wave.
E
The ceiling fan begins to spray off heat
No more can we the climate ever beat
The flower Rose shaft begins to grow true hat
The sins of the world will no more abate
The house wife looks at here true man and hiss
When failures at night keep her from true bliss,
Poor we! our Niger Delta does fight us
Ah me! on our ragged home we don’t foci
But this point which is our chance for new fame,
There are soft men; there are hard men of name.
From counts of no judge, we’re the far removed.
With all fill rights to full say un approved.
What, really, have we to fear-now on land,
What danger can’t we brush down and stand?
F
Bird weavers on hooks on trees over creek
Hang o’er head like a hanging valley,
Birds that weave on the tree tops up my head sleek
Weave better than the weaver, Odilli.
My skill, though nether nest, receives the drops,
As you mart on hooks over hanging me,
Like bombers shell on top the village drops,
My canoe has soap and sponge kept for me.
As you spray me sweet songs" Kie kill, ken kill"
Yet you treat me so, you too, are not whole,
Snakes below you hiss, hiss,hiss, bears.kian,kian!
One of them, a night before, a snake stole
Their conjugation with this head worn
Gives me thought you to catch, so I won
G
When shall the soft hour of hard labour show
Do not sit, do not eat, Delta work go
When shall the rude days of merry time end?
We shan’t dwell on the new, but this extend
\When shall we burst the space to the far moon
We shan’t sleep but shall work from noon to noon
When shall we work like giants, and not as toys?
When shall we as big boys, but not just boys?
When the big bell, truly yours, we shall ring!
Yes, when war songs, yours truly, we shall sing.
When the sense of all who hears shall say, "Ah"
When the tongue of who hears shall say ah ah"
-On the day when the thin wire from the gods,
The A Dc of our God, lights our chords.
H
The Niger Delta smiled, but now, dares not
To keep all safe in our home, we must singe
We gripped firm this Dan, but now we can not
The writer cries, but he is but a singe
When the salt water they spoilt, we are sick
Some cry, some laugh, and also, some wring to death
As a thing of truth, on our face they beak
Into our graves the dagger they unhealthy
What a joy to hear the songs of sages!
That time shall come our joy shall sing and high
Here or there, no, no, we are not pages.
We shall not peep our father’s nose to cry
I laugh, oh nature do my soul prepare
Pill to you and to myself be sincere
I
Some curious verbs haunt my holy gaze here
And envious things, high, but low, do dumb me
Some plenty nouns, sharp trap me pressed to fear
The onerous quality of life robs me
As candle of low flame shine on my face
But lo, alas, low illumination!
These candles light not me, but man’s race
And spherical my imagination!
Since even the field beast all do me applauds,
Birds and fish rise against the nouns and verbs,
The primates of St Peter’s Rees me land
I’m on head of woes and throes like the verbs.
As i think of this, I smile the air white,
As I stair and stole paint the greens wide.
J
When shall these pain filled days be away?
The people, so pressed, are in the Judah
Though ancient Egypt made okay
As warring roars in philistine and Dan
We’re seasoned power; bat shall all come out well?
In old days, we sang rang as true men
We don’t do well, though all look like gold bell
Now today, all is nothing, all is mean.
About me a new hope sings like the dove
Old hope crown in me like a lantern
Around me to sing to coo as true love
As leeches beaches are in fixed pattern
In an aha wide, we shall do these things
On rostrums as wide, we shall mounts as kings
K
This is the spaced cell where one is locked up
So we must for spilled old and gait weep
As though each and all is in nincompoop
The friend’s operations into us do seep
Must we in such big need smile to be safe?
We fall down; we fall down in rally low
The love for human, keep us in the cave
The tides are not for us, they are fast in flow
Time treats the heads and men to us relate
Now, I receive a letter of high note
All men are relations to the fortunate
So, I receive a letter, creed to quote
It’s contend go up and down my big frame
They build the up, yes, bearing a new name
L
Yet, something good is wrong here and now, now
Nor sense nor lore can come in and save us
Oh must we to this negative bow
You see How ghosts in trunks on us focus
The meanders in the creeks kill like the gun
In the problem breed of crooks of high slain
The poor, the weak scion death and they are gone
There are sweet turmoil thought by dupes on land
I,Sunny,call my men to be all here
I’ve know the agents real, whom my fears rent
Soon, they shall move to where the bad ones wear
Those whose ploy to more us we resent
We breathe thy creeks though lake and have langht them
In this,we pass yhroung chem..
M
The clap of the dove down the horizon
Suggests the glory off from here departs,
When on the greens of you, the lions grazing,
The order and the law needs some experts
In negation, in volition of ours,
The Niger Delta, croached on enough cries out
Her problems.flat,is hard like the tar’s
The people’s people, God own with loss needs clout.
Yet I do smile, I do laugh’s do clap,
Where warm fountain rush, no one shall thirst,
Thus, this head rejoices, as with schnapps,
And where we dry to death, they are the first.
These boys do grow like Adaka Boron,
Pluck the food, sing with the Odoro
N
The Delta,frosted, bigs to crisis pole,
By millipedes, who,too head-hot will kill who,
‘Who’,by centipedes, though lazy, do gambol?
They Marcy out of crevices to kill, ho!
They need nothing to hurt us, not the bar,
Gold black liquid flows from bottom to top,
When, too porous, we leave the door ajar
E’en up above, they laugh at us and clap.
‘Every good day is for the thiek,’’they say,
That day our hope of peace shall shoot it’s balls
‘The farmer has days, but only one day,
Scorched routes of evil, the does shall recall
Yes we are by the faults with in betrayed
We’ll sing like a fence for battle arrayed
O
Fair is foul, Niger Delta, air is foul
Foul is fair oh Delta clan, foul is fair
The fruit of hate’s planted by the foe
A little child is made to walk on fire.,
Old men are set one upon the other
In the Delta garden, some crop tangle,
The wise think poorer, the pools do rich
The shrub’s leaves, far from being green, get rumple
Our sorrow is hard, our fate is not clear!
Is it not for we stood akimbo for long?
We fight wars to shoot our sorrow dear,
The heads of sorrow to the hole belong
As we fight hard to shoot the malice all,
And roll the open build, the ills to fall
P
In estimation, I smile the air due
What shall I do when the clan no more’s blue?
In estimate, I praise the land ho
But how can I when the fact is not so
When we march the Niger Delta low verge
And deep in Yenagoa there to converge
Like Britons and the French on this bare land
Who did us in one do to land our land
The hot tire of our hold heart shows the ways
One day we will hold the keys to the quays,
The serpent of valour runs in my brains
The finish will be perfect with out stains
Some relish when they come in berate one
From coy to coy, from org to org, we warn.
Q
It seems man’s heads grow from graves, but walai
These heads, there much seasons before Christ, grow!
Kept in a shallow grave fallow to lie
Like Aba yams stored, always that will grow
When I think of the old deeds near tears
They care for us, and we for their names care
And this day and this min will haunt the fears
We’ve joyed you leave us the science of old bare
From Dodos to AWO,THERE ARE STRINGS
Strings of the Zain, unlike horses reins
These share relations with out ancient veins
Like G S M network, e.g., the Zain
Tie us Sekiri ,glued to the den
Here the brave, weak, wise and brave see no sin
But do guen on like pilgrims to judan, rhen
The land eaters shall get sunk as in dean
Here Rita smiles like the Empress Eugene
Orbs the palace the scepter is ring
In alliance with Moses Fregene
Who is no king, but who princes the king
God looks at our palm, too Rita-pure
Today, we dance along, shua shua
As a harsh disease takes a harsh care
Now, now we shall call back those in manta
Chapter seven
The Catechism of peace
The dove of peace descends upon our land
Like wool so dew . the dove of joy descends
Upon our land – on prettiest of fine sand.
Peace supreme reigns in hearts where love ascends,
Untouched by angry songs of naughty race,
Unspoilt by n nagging broils we chant our new praise.
The happy face of delta smiles with joy.
Our coconut white teeth are tales of hope
That cleans the bloody red of our sad ploy.
When tethered by might of most wicked rope,
We raise our faces high to stars of love,
And lift our heads to songs of love above.
We have released , this day the dove of peace.
Her plumage, white as wool entrails blot out
Our cloudy fears ensanguined with red fleece.
We have released today the crows of doubt,
Our heavy fears are told by birds of woe,
To foreign lands, the home of alien foe.
They made rich deserts of lush verdant soil,
They sowed cruel barren plagues on fruitful maid,
Calm Deltan soils were stabbed with angry foil,
Unleashing ire that slays with fitful raid.
The withered grass shall sing a song of hope.
The barren souls shall with sweet peace elope.
War swam in our vexed veins with liquid fire.
Its bloody stains did seat in sinews of
Our hope, where ugliest passions sung with ire.
Danced with raw pyre in fashions fair and rough.
When we search peace from life’s cruel pangs and strife,
We hear the dove of peace with songs of life.
The muddy face of Deltan clime is stained
With showers of blood; with rains of bullet pain.
With pains of death , where evil passions rained,
And youthful flowers of doom were cut insane.
We look to the sweet bird with healing balm,
The balm of love that fills our face with clam.
Rare phantoms trees are mirrors of our fears,
Unsheathing swords that stab us with cruel death,
Molesting us with plagues we feared to bear,
With pangs we hate to love that choke our breath..
The dove of peace fills me with great mission,
The rare sweet dream of our inmost mission.
Our creeks were littered with the sins of night.
The calm of night saves souls from crudest blows.
Our creeks were stained with blood of gruesome fight
With blood of ire, that flows from guns of foes.
We shall cherish our peace like sweetest flower,
Like rarest stars that shine in happiest hour.
Like superstitious hills fear clims our hearts.
Its shady cloaks robe ue with pangs of war;
It shoots with madly spears and fiercest darts;
Its most malicious pangs beam like death star.
We must seek peace in our great world and wide.
The dove descends with wit of nine great saints.
Nine candles are lit to Menorah
Of our rite, that the gate of hell rents.
Nine saints have come to cure from warlike bluff.
The niger Delta has seen a dove of peace –
The nine great saints that grant the creeks peace lease.
St Ifa
Chapter eight
Iambic Exploration of Peace :From
Disquiet to Quiet (Honsbira)
This time, my life has some interest to keep
And I will keep same to the longest port
I’ll go up down into the ocean deep
I’ll do so in war, I’ll do so in sport
Can we ensure peace and don’t go to war?
Wars are fought, so as to put on true quiet
We do not know the law, we are too poor
But is the truth still elusive as yet?
No longer, they, shall we at the moon bay
Or dial the number of fears we must fall
We are safe at bays or push through to bay
Disquiet will sly with peace placed on face
Though we are not married to hut turmoil
We must stand up and toil and toil and toil
2
How will there be peace in town of no law?
We must eat this so as to be in peace
How can there be peace when good rules flow?
On the good order and law they all hiss
Is it not order that we made Japan to grow?
Is it not making Japan rich in pan?
For unlike where disquiet and guiles full flow
Low Japan, reaching skywards, to God ran.
Peace as the absence of all disquiet
Is the run of the town when sad war dies
Peace is the absence of war and bliss, yet,
Where the longest peace reigns, peace never lies.
What’s to be done to have peace? Do fight war.
It is my joy that peace is at the door.
3
But what is peace, if not mixed up with law?
Peace can not be, with out the mix of truth
For peace to be, we must know the colour
In sun, hot, in rains, wet, build him a booth
There he will live like kernel in the shell.
To me all the while, we do not talk peace
The Niger Delta lord shall come, we will tell,
Tell him that what we want is nothing, peace
I see peace in the holy world jocund
And poised to live the zenith of our lone
The peace to the wall, it will rebound
The face, slapped, and hard, will be in good tone
Peace soaring and round us like perihelion
It glides and round our orb like aphelion.
4
What must be done to woman to protect?
For they do not feel at home in this cave.
What shall we do the men’s case to correct?
For the days of the mind of God to crave?
Their days have not fixed, moving to short day,
And one-on-one we look and cast the die
Not healed, we are burnt by the cold sun ray
Like rhizopus ,life spends a day and die
Lay on help, my sweet bro, hope is not lost.
Remember, we will rule our destiny
And safety will laugh, and safety will burst.
The Niger Delta is no colony.
God laws protect more than highest walls
And throw growth here and there like bouncing balls.
5
What’s odour of the peace as it now reigns?
It is a shape of true peace let us say.
Can this be smelled on cold days when rain rains?
Or is it how the air smells on noon day?
The voice of peace says what peace is about.
The voice of peace shows peace in its odour.
The old door of peace is closed, there no doubt.
As the long rooms are closed, there’s no ardour.
Yet, but no! Yes, when new lives are made.
Yes but no! No, now, there is no witness.
When the ovum dies of tadpoles in raid,
The tadpoles give rise to lives in newness
This marriage is the odour pure of peace
This newness, yes, is the ardour of this.
6
Can we touch peace in its colour, artist?
Is peace a primary or a secondary?
Leave this matter; oh leave, to the realist
And place lone peace here as the boundary
At this stage, it is a yoke in its house
And that is really what they say is pick
Is it the true colour of the church house?
Both sides of the peace can this piece link?
The colour of water sprayed into air,
The colour of air breathed into lungs,
The colours of the sky when it is clear,
The colour of kiss, to us this belongs,
Where there is no peace, the colour is red.
In that case, a longest corpse, laid on bed.
7
The sound of war is fear! The sound of peace?
As it dines on the sepulcher of war,
Peace is a child of war, but what is this?
Peace is the noise when you press down the poor.
The sound of peace is after crisis
But what is peace after crisis and how?
Can you keep it when fresh crisis rises?
I know how it talks; how it smiles, I know.
Peace is the clime of Eden in those days
When the green middle apple was unripe
The Niger Delta voice to God does pray
Her voice when in peace will lay these pipes.
Have you been to Deghele creek in Jans?
Do, and hear true peace roaring in mud cans.
8
Peace and not piece has it true texture.
First, is peace placed on hope when there is true peace.
This always takes place pure in places few.
Two, is peace when strict order on woe hiss.
The Niger Delta concept of peace is love,
Feels like morn’s sun at A.M.seven
Whose touches the sick of the soul do cure
The first and the last meet to fell even.
I will tell you what, and I will be sped,
Like the universals in water rained,
Like the fell of two friends on water bed,
Like the world, still a void and still unstained,
What you fell when you touch Cassowary
The feel of some priests, when cassock -weary.
9
Peace gives up the people to acts and growth
As it takes us from one stage to the next,,
In the mind of the peaceful, growths float
True message of growth sent out in text,
Sent though air, Orere to Yenagoa.
Our barrels yield more Tebu’s to Afan’s,
Like the smooth rail line of Bay-Delagoa,
Just like wars which have its friends, peace has fans.
It is true, what the lions say about peace.
It is true, what the lambs say of pieces.
Peace will not come up, if we don’t have these.
Peace has claws; these will devour the crisis.
Peace doctors, keeping the soul of our race,
10
Our race to human race outside rate race.
This day what do we think or say or do?
we need one thing: we want peace in the land.
The pact of peace all the while is ado
As a true witness to this is Smooth’s band.
I will call in Peace Maker Barrister.
Now talk of this and things of like nature
Come now solution, but not hereafter.
For this to be, won’t corruption rupture?
Now is the hereafter; now it is here.
From lowly things like us let true peace come;
To our long trebled tongues let peace cohere.
They’ll take this to heart: Dick ,Harry and Tom.
Lifeless peace has no heart, a choicest chine .
Little peace has no size, a pricest wine.
Honsbira
Chapter nine
THE NIGER DELTA: ASPIRATION AND EXPECTATION
(Honsbira)
You see your visitor from high heaven.
Oh we relate to the bread unleaven
As we scorn your anti peace visitant.
We march past disquiet with cosecant.
Niger Delta in glows we boast of you,
For your sad honey, brown dose through and through.
Our heads swollen with pride, our mouths wide.
You see, we are well in realm of pride we ride.
In showers of love rays, to wed with the greens.
Here ,day and night, though not one , are like twins
Which day can swim into the night, full dark.;
Which night can rise into the day, full spark.
2)
Yes, Niger Delta, you sing us like lark.
Your inspiration, high, speeds up like shark .
Sweet Niger Delta, you help the helpless.
The crocodile drops his teeth for the careless,
Your clean water, the strength of the iguana
At the bases of the grass bahama.
Your deep and shallow rivers make a sheep.
The rivers looking round like a fat ape,
Weave nets of radials like Ronaldinho,
Dashing here and there like Nwankwo Kanu.
Above this, sing sweet birds like nightingale.
these sweeter birds will consume and inhale
3)
Old love for things unlucky has grown stale.
A metamorphosis of the gold bale.
Sight from the air makes a true net
For, like fishing traps, intricacies are set.
Our traps in the water hold the fishes.
This water holds the boat in all riches.
Ocean waters that are salt and blue black,
Brackish waters and canoes shall not crack.
The tilapia and the “kperekpere’
These Opuama will call “kpalakpala”
This sweet homonyms, oh Niger Delta.
This divine rhyme of my poem, my brother.
4)
It is not easy to be here at noon,
To take part in the grinding of divine corn
Crisis kills unity, the woe rises ,
But in all the culture rime shows the oneness.
This the fair day has shown in all fairness,
Our warm lore ,oh Niger Delta, is known.
From Dakar to Kano then to Cape Town.
In the morning, the cocks pose, crowing .
In the night, the ‘Owawa’ keeps barking.
In midst of plenty God says “eat and drink”.
Eat of the Delta plenteous: it’ll not shrink.
5)
The deaf has heard all that I said – I think.
The stupid blind shall with his boat go sink.
We’re in the Niger Delta, base of plentitude.
We reap strength and wealth through the beatitude.
Each time on the current of the swift creek
We drift with the fishes, with their heads sleek.
Daily on the current world we eat salt;
We are in a world of salt as a cult.
Our bones, strong built, our organs are erect;
Very few are lazy – those who elect.
We fight to give all others no fever.
We give meat to others and their liver.
6)
To be kind forever and for ever
We are glad to live along the river.
Rivers made hard by its quid and its salt.
Rivers of this ’quid and salt made a bolt.
Fluid from Olokun on its tower high throne
Fled from crayfish and big crab without bone.
In the Niger Delta, where we must live,
Looking around the world for any to give,
From the sponges of this things honey to lick,
In the strength of a giant ready to kick.
For it is Pink oil we give to Nigeria,
Timber and gases without hysteria.
7)
We house the sweet flower, sweet crotalaria,
There are others such as the thumbergia.
We can do with our rough alligators
Around which you see the smooth monitors.
We can do with our brand of tortoises
In the brackish waters with the Pisces.
Each time upon the currents if the streams,
We find the turtle which, like tortoise seems.
Each time on the fast drift of the river,
At ease we lay and smile in life ever.
Oh Western Niger Delta of full worth,
Home of friendly animals of this sort.
8)
What we gain is the fruit of this effort.
Oh sing, old songs of Omoge Comfort.
Our castle is safe in battle of life.
For the wise there is life. Death’s not rife.
Our children work hard to hold the glory
To this end, to them all we are sorry.
To the infamous men of low esteem,
Reciprocals that this home will demean.
I cry; I sigh for the weak and any
In my home I am in good company.
Give us hope; give us soap, Niger Delta.
Over all your children you must cater.
9)
Gbogbo oun kan maa da, things shall be better.
We have now by now written our letter.
Where the gods live, truth shall for all time lie;
Where God lives, falsehood shall forever fly.
The gods who serve our God shall never fail.
Cleansing like incense the altar like grail.
In a trio of gods, GOD and the people.
Embrace colours when they change to purple.
All these the heaven’s gate shall one day tell.
All this before our eyes shall make a dell.
This all Deltans at heaven’s gate shall hold.
The spirit of life on our heads speaking bold.
10)
At heaven’s gate we come in from the cold
Deltans are glad to track from cold to gold.
This all Deltans at heaven’s gate shall think.
Some will have pardon; some will fall and sing.
These are those who will wallow at nowhere.
They shall be locked up in rooms without ware.
Dear father: thanks for the good you gave us;
Our terrain locus gives us focus.
We are in a journey of a hundred years,
Which real Deltans shall complete without fears.
From heaven’s gate, space to Niger Delta
To heaven’s gate through space from the Delta.
11)
We will share heaven’s dew all together
Shall house the heaven minded together.
We ourselves shall sit on missions current
Every day on the one creek of torrent.
This will relate all time sweet veries
From the thin rude time of doom, this varies.
From terrains of enclaves of rich cities
Did this obtain even in the sixties?
Angels of hope greet the Delta valley
Like the wings of bird, with bird the ally.
There is new ministry of the Niger Delta.
Many of these ill days it will alter
12)
Many of these old days it will utter,
Their stubborn millipedes it will shatter.
Like Mao Tse Tung and communism.
Populist developomentalism !
There rich thoughts grow like pumpkin and banana.
We cherish these thoughts like Mariana,
Decorated by maids of firefly ,
So as to fly round and round happily.
As three chose to move in streams of thick brooms,
They gave a sense of Australia the , Dawns .
We will have scenery of S.A bush veldt.
So , then, all in Argentina is felt.
13)
We won’t fight with guns; but with rare kung fu
Our prowess are in large cassettes, not few.
Look from Jumole to Kolokolo
Through Aghoro to Jaja’s Opobo;
We search the Delta State of Nigeria .
We search the rivers’ books, hagios biblia
Around the oil well of my dear states
Written “blessed among the holy states”.
In truth of this none shall dare your proud wealth
Niger Delta, none shall dare your proud health.
For what, really, are we to think about?
Our men are of oil, they are men of clout.
14)
These men are men of oil, they are men of clout.
Victor Kojo Wood is all , no doubt,
Such that even the dead and the buried
To high heavens all of them have hurried,
To give their praises to God for his life.
He cuts the weed of life with a sad knife.
But all will love to be soaked in love oil,
Dead or alive, to be soaked in crude oil.
So, on the third day of our interments,
We rise to the spaces to the elements,
Melt out of the hollow and move in flight
To tell the maker of our richest height.
15)
To tell the maker of our riches height,
Open the minds door to receive the light.
At times what is good stings he that has it.
This black thing enriches; but then for it,
Here is colonized, it calls colonizers,
Ahead of us we can see equalizers.
When in the noon fish scatter woven nets
(In this the Niger Delta is an exponent),
Fishes leap for joy for the noise it makes.
Strange, sweet, like in far England, that of Kate.
Like dove’s mix with nature’s, and so, good.
It allows the hunter for his day-food.
16)
It allows the hunter for its own good.
When that is this, he’s no longer in mood.
Bears, piercing the roots of the mangrove tree,
Must rest, carefree, after the sun beam spree.
Sometimes, tear the trap; sometimes, caught by trap.
They cry “ouuun, ouwn, khien ,khiem; the hunters clap.
The Niger Delta, bed for the bedless,
Your white beaches this glowing suns caress;
Birds and bats of bare worth interchange selves,
Emitting joy in midst of the souled leaves.
The birds and the bats in close allegiance;
Exchange without the writ of conveyance.
17)
Do things without the creed of conveyance,
Burns a quality without obeisance.
They both trust one thing: fresh leaves, fine flowers.
We shall sing as travelers by the river.
They’re enemies; but no opponent frowns.
They in good nature with each other bounce.
In the Delta, in nature’s nectars spree,
Lots of them you see. Lots of games you see!
Among friendly animals that are foes
Among peaceful humans that love woes
Save some polar bears, sharp teeth are things of joy,
In a paradise setting of true love
18)
In a paradise placement of slow wave
Each number of the setting loves the dove.
The eagles’ long looks at the Delta net,
At the oil clime and for a moment,
All the time the youth of the land as kin;
In a moment the elders also seen.
Exchanging wit for wit and gut for gut,
The happy conjugation of species
The thread of dangers woven round the creeks.
Our embryos suck the thread and it shrinks.
Our open eye re-opens and then blinks.
We paint our white thumb with true peace as ink.
19)
we paint our whole frame with this peace for ink.
We look at dangers and our eyes won’t blink ,
To create more conjugation of veries.
From the Niger Delta goods and realies,
All that the others can do we can do,
Pride absorbing and of not much ado.
This they cannot do; that they cannot make.
Loving our worth, they can not imitate.
What we our God has made us is a self,
With a heavy book of culture in a shelf.
The cultured, beautifully packed culture,
Aggregating culture in a treasure.
20)
This and other culture is a feature;
All the good traces and of good pleasure,
Reveal the eternal truth about men.
Conflicts of sizes are bound to occur,
That where they join as one – two or more men
At last ,this will fuse them into succour.
And sharp, then, at the teeth of hope and fat joy,
As they bite the tummy of conflicts’ ploy.
We look at them; shake heads as though they are boys.
As they bite the tummy of conflict buoy.
The Delta is ankle deep to reason
The Delta, fat, deep and high, we reason.
21
Stand erect to the deed, more times, ten times;
And ring the jingle in a beat that rhymes.
That we do as well: they are synonyms
And shall be called “Bismarck” as pseudonyms.
We hope not in any, but our true selves,
Caring for others and ourselves, ourselves.
And (yes) from now to ages yet to be,
Believe, and this hope shall for ever be.
To sugars to bitters, this they should kiss;
To sweet to gall, the envious must take this.
But then .peace is what we want, we need rest.
22
Rich rest, not turmoil, must seek for a rest.
We want love, that is, our love for our breath.
It must be love which is one’s affection for each,
The tilapias sweet care for all the fish.
Since the birth of the Niger Delta zone.
In which each of the state is a noon,
Clothed in a damask of much colours
Our daily mean and water is allure
We sing cuckoo like the holy kuku
The Urhobo has called this the ilekuku
when I was a little boy, the world was young
Then cuckoo and tin tin we had for song.
23
Then cuckoo and tin tin we had for song.
Some of the songs were short; others were long
A European shaft was our area then.
That was what we have met the old Eden.
We has no oil as the co-efficient;
The black thing, oil ,so magnificent,
Black gold that enriches as resources,
Though there are other resources so worse.
Petro oil leads one to eternity
Pointing the prospect to infinity
It de-links our prospects to History,
De-links our prospect from low victory.
24
De-link my prospect from low victory
Sing me loud, Delta, like Isaac Gregory.
Oh Niger Delta your practiced actions we want;
Actions and factions to which you are won’t.
Our aim, really, is: make a song to sing,
As the wide world to the small Delta we cling.
Niger Delta, the world sends you greetings;
To the Ramos were creeks are in meetings;
For the nations to be, you live you drink
In your plenty, of others lame you think
For love of the due which at times is few
In love of wealth to which we are due.
25)
In love of the wealth for which we take clue,
To write up poems with honesty in view.
From Warri where men don’t worry, we send
What nature gives to us that shall not end.
In Yenagoa, we are okay we wish
Nor good nor bad, but all that is God’s wish.
Nor god nor bad, but most godly wishes.
Yes, all the gods that lies on our beaches,
The black thing, superior to columbites,
For which Nigerians are but Israelites,
Thought s of the Niger Delta from night mare,
The cruel and sore things of bad dreams they mar.
26)
All the bad things of bad dreams they will dare.
The actualities of night mares, not here.
The will of the progress of want we block,
Thought of the dear home before the dear cock,
When in the even at the riverside,
We steer seawards with the waves to abide,
The waves coming to go so many times,
Depending on the seasons and the climes.
Moist fishing boats are hurled , high ,ashore,
Joining to vegetations along shore.
Pelicans by the shore and egrets, both white,
Seawards, landwards, like flying parakeet.
27)
Seawards, landwards. Flying the air to bite,
We dance our legs lame, possessed Betty Wright.
Children throw pebbles offshore out to sea.
Some jump and happily descend to sea,
Swim off banks and corkishly, view the land,
Where fowl, dogs, goats, sheep and cows play on sand.
White sand serves as materials for buildings
Take as much as you will it’s self filling.
Niger Delta gives without looking back.
In this regard, the globe is taken aback.
28)
In this regard, it is all for Barak
The mystery of Japan we can crack,
When they view from Iye’s long Deghele,
Where there are lots of birds, like nightingale.
I look into the creeks and then beyond,
Beyond Yenagoa; where we’re not in bond.
There is America at the other side,
I can see her well and others beside.
In that area, there is the rule of time,
To see the Americas in full rime.
But not from six pm to six am ,
It is six am through seven pm.
29)
It is six pm and this is the elm.
Am I coming to Forcados? Yes I am.
A poetic truth, not open to dispute:
Stand at Awoye, if this you refute,
Where things are real, though some are mystery,
In the great Nigerian remote history,
Pleasantly warm at some legal backups,
Like Athens’ maiden with warm things in stocks,
Like some benefiting fighters we fought.
Like the Lord’s God Angelry we have wrought.
This is warning and it is so dangerous,
Assailing this region is onerous.
30)
And to come to this region is callous,
Like wrangles with women, cantankerous.
Sweet tendency towards extra crisis
As each one against the other rises.
For they use to say that we do like war,
Like the hotel customer and the whore.
For the love of the dear land makes us one#
Covered by common staying the cone,
To go all round Orere-Yenagoa,
A sector, bearing “who dares is a goer”.
The claws of sad lion, the true Delta is,
Made out for Cherubs, men who bliss.
31)
Made of more Seraphs, men who love to bless,
Constant dimples of love show in our kiss.
We’re in a garden where Cherub fruits ripen,
In a cave where Obama things happen.
In league with tusk of wisdom from afar,
Our oil and oil jars shall not lie ajar.
In doors of mangrove and gates of bamboo,
The Jajas won’t look on at Opobo.
Rush, oh tears, you shall into verity,
And those high birds shall cry eternity,
As Delta our own heart is an empire.
We play with ploy with our God as umpire.
32)
We are with our god and we shall not retire,
And then for the world we will not aspire,
Like Jesus in midst of the apostles,
Sweet Mohammed with holy disciples;
Our spirits reign as we Deltans hustle,
With the polished stones that twinkle, twinkle.
We sing some new songs: adaka doko
These songs must fly to Adaka Boro.
Our gaze are high, our heads are made up.
Our heads? Really, none is a nincompoop.
Most times, fat centipedes climb the spree
In avoidance of fat birds on the tree.
33)
So as to dodge the fat birds which them see,
Fat millipedes give themselves to the sea.
It is not sorrow that we have to dress,
The para-men relations to address.
When nature reacts, it does so all round.
In nature, things hard or soft are around.
They put on shapes and diverse faces.
Each with the true identities it chases.
In truth , as they wear shapes of diverse forms,
Each has unique functions for which it comes.
When nature reacts it creates self satiety,
All by the Niger Delta verity.
Not by the Niger Delta oddity,
We shall create wealth to full extremity,
Born sights from the scene of ages to be,
Stable stances for children of obi .
The sun that journeys round the staying earth,
Pardon , the sun, stable for the circling earth
Symbolizing nature on the earths’ plane.
Soft sun running along nature’s lane.
In Isekiri culture is allure,
In Urhobo virtue is full colour,
All this with beauty are not at variance.
And Ijaw, aglow with richly radiance
34)
And Ijaw afloat on richly credence ,
Whispers into my ear nature’s parlance .
In nature ,where we live, we do not care.
Discolored bat the back we do not stir.\
We thought the world will applaud us for all.
Our clap trap ,our beauty appeals to call.
We are old Plato’s and are old angel.
We are some beauteous ones change to marble.
What will it cost should we reshape our wit?
Niger Deltans redress , beat by beat.
Dance for long hours to wipe out this tears.
Sing for more hours to show there are no fears
35)
Sing for more hours for here no one cares
In the song’s tenure, we sit on gold chairs.
Niger Delta shall sit down up to view,
The shield in the oppressors hand in lieu.
Those shield we can make; but we do not mind,
It suits us all the time because we are kind.
We have swallowed some potions against steel,
We arte up to them in the radical deal.
Think of old Nana, the Isekiri
and his war :Kparakpo and kiriji.
Also the wise escapade of Jaja
As wise as the ancient men of Gonja.
36)
As wise among the twelve as old Asher .
Over the clan we have our Alhaja.
Oh greedy oppressors, you scorn at fate!
Wherever you come from, you are no mate.
Truly, able we can do all you do.
You are unable – can’t swim at the Dodo.
The clan is our womb; and it is our tomb;
Our wide papers we sign with our white thumb.
God’s hand through us shall help those who don’t have,
And build our wisdom like Daniel and dive.
At noon it is para spacey, although
We live all out; our high yeast and its dough.
37)
We live all out; and our lives shall not bow.
Self abnegation leaving all to foe.
We give in pleading for peace to triumph
When this peace come both parties shall laugh.
Elebechi’s song for national moimoi
Yes, well rationed will give us joy.
Elebechi spoke not of Delta oil
Which the world and nations took as spoil.
Of the bite they give us the bell is rung.
Of the might they give us they ring loud gong.
We rise up only to fight the idles
Mouths dance wa wa like those with dodos
38)
And sing, and cry, but too low like weak poles.
We keep the ball of peace which to all roles,
But sweet oppressors will know no remorse,
They make here from there to here like the mouse.
In the Delta around Oloibiri ,
We do not know of the kiri kiri.
Attempts to make the scions see reason won’t end.
For now ,today, some saviours descend.
Really? But who are the saviours to be?
The ones to come for what we call Obi.
Good groups shall spring up, made of writers,
We hold olives in our hands not rapiers.
39)
We hold olives in our hands, not pinchers
Like the Lander brothers, we’re like Richards .
Through this, the peace of the place will show
For to the sharp pen the riffle shall bow.
This is an epigram, though, we don’t know it .
This is an epigram; the poet deems it fit...
Man shall know man in manners regular,
Each not seizing each by the jugular.
The black fluid shall block to defy all looks,
There shall be the inventories in all books,
And like sweet liquids( for like liquid it is)
Flowing more freely then on to the seas.
40)
Flowing more freely than before is this.
Oil shall soak the face of who thinks he is.
Then all will live and eat to full desire,
Until to the sea beds the fish aspire.
All shall eat to live to holy measure
Of hope, of life, of death of no culture.
The beaded bride at show sees no redness.
In here, we see naught, knowing not our fairness.
Those who encroach on the Niger Delta,
Move away her beautifuls to scatter.
I stayed with a seer, he was Cheidu.
Cheidu, God in you with wit does imbue .
41)
In the west they will call the obu
You will make who undo us their deeds to rue.
He said this land shall grow to a high height.
It shall go up; up and high like the kite.
Good goods shall come and go through ports and ports.
The growth in real trade shall not be by efforts.
A time shall come for real developers
To contend with the real interlopers.
When the far off shall set tribe after tribe,
They moisten masses in mist of bribe.
This fluid is thick and sticky, like the mud;
But it’s not mud; it just wears this mood.
42)
We are all glad like the old Robinhood.
Some rich offers look as though they are not good.
We denote and connote the power of crooks.
We watch the malice drift away trough brooks.
Radiate the true rare love of true Deltans.
Each one for all people like Nigerians.
We engage each; and each all engages,
In the Nile Delta, the Vaal , the Ganges.
Reveals your hope, oh Delta, not cagey.
Such a relationship, soft and clayey,
With your sweet songs we will show in your chart.
This is good type of reason, not chit chat.
43)
This is a good means and reason, wear the hat.
No wise rat will ever befriend the cat !
Maintain the bonds which the ancestors did you give.
Do this well for at last we shall all live.
This is fathers’ bond, not god’s bond with Eve.
In the end as we know, Eve had to leave.
Bonds contain the odds and rods of the soul.
We are one; our souls are one, not two poles.
Niger Delta is poised with urge to dare.
The store of health and wealth in need are there,
Rejuvenating, invigorating,
Men, and cow men, congratulating.
44)
Now there shall always be enough meetings,
To include even the ones in the kitchens.
In a circuitous coming together
In warm hand shake to cheer one another.
Men and cal men fuse in one sector
and nothing shall go bad here, we’re victor.
We are grouped into a sector by nature#
By socio-economic stature.
History and culture, embracing our kind.
We gain more all the day to give as find,
Praying “Give us more to give them all the more”.
We shall serve them all the more that they will snore.
45)
We’ll give them much: not the ‘neither’ or ‘nor’ .
So there is the love for them that we bore.
History shall not die, culture shall not die.
For all the world, we shall cast the black dye
Until we are able to help all the poor
We won’t give up, more are at the door.
I see Mum Niger Delta as a house;
Fish and rivers around the house do browse
Forest as beautiful decorations
Shrubs and flowers as green beautifications.
I see the brushes of rising sunshine,
The rushing of the setting suns as they shine.
46)
The rushing of the setting sun is fine,
Washing us clean ,gives us a meal to dine.
This licking as the dog does the child,
This the angels also trace when they glide.
Rejuvenating, invigorating.
Earthworms, toads, birds and men, celebrating.
When we have more to give, we are in joy,
When we have no tears to give as sad coy.
Oh God, do give us a heart of soft stone,
For as we give out to them, we are none.
When we have much to give, we are in tears ,
When we have no tears to give we are in fears.
47)
God, give us the mean , this in us inheres
When we are dry, the Niger Delta stares.
The wide basin of the Niger Delta,
Full of purposes like the lord’s altar,
Just like the Nile Delta and Orange’s
Ready and long from ages to ages,
Do inspire songs of loses and of gains.
Oh see my Niger Delta as a cage,
Things unpleasant and pleasant make us rage.
In this frenzy of mood we pick the fruit
Falling off red mangroves in their salt root.
48)
Falling of red mangroves, march like true boot.
We children have yellow arrows to shoot#
Most times when we think of our old shore game,
How the mangrove of the shore held her name;
Most times Niger Delta prays to grow young
With the wit of the sweet shore as a song.
I feel like singing this time for tributes
To my strength of reckon it contributes.
Pierce in raffia ribs; cast them off the shore.
Far offshore, they drop on water “shoorr, shoorr”,
Like the long arrows of the Carthaginians.
Like the ball shot of the Argentineans!
47)
Our fishes die; most time for them they come.
The fishes at play take to death as norm.
Each town. Each point, each of them yields as such
Together they are all single to rush.
A delve or dive yields not in face of mood.
In our home they look at us as mere wood,
But at break of day, they long to see here.
At night at ease we all long the shores fear.
The thought that today’s forest will be long
Bares heads safe from sun burns all the day long.
Backs, black saved from friendly showers of rains ,
And sipping dearly other natures gains.
Our happy children smile broad to blossom;
They are in care of their ire at bosom.
Here and there, on land, and in the air;
Around us everything too fresh, too fair.
48)
Around us all things are too clear and dear.
Who they are, after all , we do not care.
They mix up things here, but gives us good bliss.
Things as good in real form give us true kiss.
You see, it is here we are in blue boom,
And happy that we sing as nature’s groom.
The truism we are of Niger Delta born,
Blows through us like some real eddies inborn,
Re-builds the haemoglobin into oxy-
All system, mixing; natural rosy.
It flushes the pipes, moves of toxin far.
In nature good and bad must grow differ.
49)
Our strong men fight too much not to suffer.
The name of sweet mood in them we confer.
The joy of being our Niger Delta queen
Cures hard malaria with no heed to quin.
Like the Crusaders, Stephen among them
In hand, the name of Christ as power emblem.
We bring growth in good billions like rushes.
Bring us a heart of love in choruses
When we dance, it is well; songs, we sing loud.
And religionism to pose as guard.
Nativism says to both “I am old”
The forest shrine of the hot world is cold.
50)
The forest god the cure to this we mould.
They don’t fail at all; and this makes us bold.
Their houses’re the only enclave of true men.
No spirit strange will be seen as not mean.
The smiling dunes of the white shore we tread
As starry twilight has to grow all red.
When black soft lovers are off to their room
With only witness alone to the moon,
The see the sweet side of the Caribbean .
Not Consul Ralph pitied Ebrohimians.
When they fought honest hard ownership wars.
When they make the dishonest colo chores.
51)
Those who pray for wars do suffer too worse,
Like victims of love, the sad watery whores.
Oh make the Deltans to pray as warriors
In spirit , in physique - not inferiors.
Sustain our zeal when we march the mud shore
In pains, in jo, this we take as core.
Oh we are in a realm of low abundance,
And low we bow in shameless obeisance.
We see we bow down low, we are what we are.
Our ‘manship’ we race on like Toyota,
Because there is full hope in what will come,
Our basin-wide lips point out to become.
51)
This basin wide lips point out to beckon.
God and the gods themselves see the outcome.
Like birds nested in wait for meals to drop,
The dawn we praise; our needs come from the up.
We feed on wisdom in lieu of old Rome.
What is more? Rome land is all of rich norm.
All the deaths we sweep off with hard venture.
Our countenance as hard as the culture;
Painted Delta; scented fragrant stature.
Your dove tail hands feed us to true measure.
The sages old shall call you “our mother”.
Our fathers all call you “our sweet father”.
52)
It’s high day we look at each as the ruder.
Small intrigues; hard, soft conflict, don’t bother.
Even Shoel won’t leave you unapplauded,
And ancient sages will keep you lauded.
Her biggest vulva is big for big births;
Her scions are not the fiends to fight to death.
We are in our own part of the wide world
Where, weather old or young, you need being bold.
In Niger Delta, our own place of stay,
Waves in greed kill our soft shore: watch and pray.
Like acids, brush the walls of ‘Madino.
Like the ancient creeds of Asia Minor.
53)
Though the sea eats our land, it us honour.
So much I call her name “Hard Donor”.
Of show of her grading and degrading,
It belabors our view when aggrading,
The process of which our seas have been made.
A nature’s law by forces that are maid.
Moist Niger Delta: this self made shadow
You love your soil, you love not cattle.
We’re gallants and in our self made unit,
We fight on and on and reach the zenith.
To our song of the prairies, the lames dance.
We as land owners and of shrines, we bounce.
54)
This time we of this clan will keep our stance.
This hour all in our land will hold our stands.
Years ago, we were young birds in the nest.
Ate, but mouth stretched in want for the next.
Tiers past, our jointed food was tier on tier.
Leaves of hyacinths were in columns and too dear
Like water in the brooks have no ripples,
Like pricest girl’s smile, tooled with deep dimples.
The leaves, the water, the air give us forms.
We are not draggled in riparian storms.
The chemistry of banks in us joy fill
Like some detached leaves in their chlorophyll
55)
And like strangled leaves which then do not feel,
The thoughts of God, full filled, in us refill.
They wash our stomach clean and alveoli.
So it used to be in Shiloh with Eli.
A divine feature these points underlie
In this dear native home and by and bye.
In our native home, a related dhobi
As it is, Ekeremor and Bobi.
The ramshackeld bungaloo won’t lie low.
Would lie and high to our guests who in flow.
In bungalow duplexes we shall be
Humming these sweet songs like the honey bee.
56)
We need a source of all strength, the obi,
To fight with any France like a true Bey
And grope for the sign under the earth ring
And fingers as light, golden bell we ring.
Here, inside, is more healthy than outside ,
Fair substances invade here so beside.
Like some old monks, do we sit in limbo?
Like in old Egypt and her Abydo.
We have been made a true hut, a true land.
To fear no more however the odd stand.
Now that we are in bungalow duplexes,
The cherished order becomes complexes.
57)
Our cherished orders are our indices.
At midnight we sing in true reflexes,
Threatened, day and night ,by those on platform,
The heart of oddities this shall transform.
Handed into some hands in elastic,
In the new upsurge of Beys so basic,
Rewane went; going …going was he.
Adaka reacted, and grand was he.
As this was the word low in leeward days,
And into same lies have peeped in these trays.
The Niger Delta is in Nigeria.
It is sweet; it is gall, with hysteria.
58)
Where shall we go, shall we to Assyria?
Its keel and crest make me think of Syria. .
There are these chaos and throes and enough word
The triumph of the holy ones like chords.
In this strange range, we the distressed need harsh guts
Strange range making all of us men of clouts,
Arrows of sorrows fall on us in showers.
Bonnet of wisdom bursts with brain movers.
Some camshafts, hot, force trimmed, drives the gates ajar.
They tarry too far; but never know how far.
The grip of the foes against us then soars.
In this new jeep, we shall scorn all war hours.
59)
And disdained and cursed are the western towers.
These from here we undo with these land rovers,
Blind and bat like, the illness are then sour.
I fly so high, and homing , I will not flaw .
Oh ancient Warri in hard equation!
Hardened ones, ancient songs of hard nation.
We are not cracked; we are elastic strings.
Meat and its price in the proud market ring.
You ring tall pyramids with your red beads.
The aura, some common weeds, it then weeds.
We can say where we are, Warri within.
Prone to glair, new old poems must be written
59)
Prone to glare, none of us shall be beaten
All stories not written will get rotten.
We browse and we brail, like the blind lawyer,
Like the blind man, decked as farmer Soya .
The tiny strides of the giant in a race ,
They wear round the neck hundred threats as lace.
But now now, our hope and its peace will come,
The verisimilitude of rich norm.
The Delta, intent to make her own gold,
For deprived, we breathe in new spirit bold.
Souls here are no shy tiny worms that fold.
They are doves and e’en as they you scold.
60)
Too deprived, we breathe in air from the old;
To a false want we step in from this world.
Fiends suck our juice we stand too near to look.
In weakling clause now pictured in odd book.
The land and our cowed contents are nannies.
The land, hands and mouth, on her she manies.
The Niger Delta, coloured with live streams.
Here hope and scope crossbreed and are in beams.
Cross marriages of suns and rains face
The highest turnout, a special case,
Like Xmas things, and smiling and shining.
It beams a shaken steamy face dancing.
61)
It is a shaking river face shining,
Around curve everywhere like a shilling.
Birds dancing singing and trees hum good songs.
Singing sea birds beautify us with gongs.
This union we consume and sing coo coo
Like the fine church girls at Obuluku.
Poor is our spirit; and pure is our look.
To us fine ones, true love to us do hook.
Hooks without bait hook out fish prized and pure.
A rich god is inherent in our core.
Mouths of toothless old men are filled with yam,
They chew their cube more true like goats, ‘wam wam’.
61)
They chew in groups like the hot bees in swarm .
In cases few, they crush the flesh of ram.
We shall face the excursion with fresh flesh
And sweep the grit and grins with a soft brush.
In plenteous hours of plenteous bare beauty
In attendance, beast and men in duty.
The Delta Rivers this time will be milk,
When floating vegetation will be silk.
Neptune’s ocean houses the deprived fish.
Caution seasons losses their contrived reach.
And all the women, leavened, beautiful,
Mix with ones, awkward legged and awful.
62)
Some men, awkward legged ,are not careful;
Know that the women, living colourful,
Know that this houses nature and her care.
There is naught to fear ; we sleep without stir,
As in the golden age, ages ago ,
Like some old songs sung and long they will go.
In those days earth was ours, the good therein.
The gates were open, the ripe fruits herein.
The plump ones singing to plumped abundance.
They would to nature nod in concordance.
Old Yenagoan peace is bold and plumpy .
Niger Delta care is rich and happy.
63)
And full Calabar songs is my hobby.
And the conjunction I sing with Lipi.
The might of he that shall stand bold with us,
His care and his guide is never a loss.
In our hearts in a quest we ring the bells.
We sing, we hum, we dance, we jump in dells.
The angels of hell took the pains away
Deep and deep into earth core, down to lay.
Milk stretched its mouth to our mouth unstretched .
Health longed out its breath to our nose, cup stretched.
The soiled hands are in divine ’quids washed.
Incomprehensibility is flushed .
62)
Incomprehensibility, is crushed;
Non complementarities also lashed.
As happiness has come, deep dark tears’re gone.
Groans are cast away, cast like fleshless bone.
In fresh life style we sing yokoko
Like onward Ijaw in ‘Daka Boro.
Our truism is well booked in Yenagoa,
This history well written by Alagoa.
Our truism is enrolled in Kaiama.
There shall progress and growth, no comma.
Oh god, the Kaiama declaration!
And now, the Isekirian inclination.
63)
Things of like nature to glue – no faction.
The ‘Jaws and ‘Were to glue - full fraction.
Then the born growth will not fall to hammer
And learning more, we learn the oedema.
May this rich care live and in true ways.
We long for long to live to longest days.
With heaven’s juice sucked in like oxygen.
With heaven’s balm protects the citizen.
You ant and fireflies, we know all you know.
And garden eggs and peanuts you we sow.
May your grained pollination have no end.
This conjugation makes each one a friend.
64)
To the place hinged now we seem to tend.
So our true greetings to the gods we send.
Intrusions, sad, shall not come to no guard.
We are points of pins though we are not bad.
Their rich interference straightens them not us.
In leaning places, this is a discourse.
The god-made wisdom will stand full and grow.
This religio-mystic thing has to glow.
Though we do feel tired that we are here ,
We higher feel all times we have to dare.
Here Deltans feel that theirs shall sure come.
The quiet and the calm have come after storm.
65)
The soul calm we reap true calm after storm;
In place of the Swedish bitters, take your rum;
Our resources grow to a place long;
All those in Tobago shall come along;
We must reframe the mind to be of good name;
Those mighty men of fame from here they came;
And going and coming, the land view;
And going and coming, the clan in view.
Oh single soul, think out the rule for our plight;
Oh treble plight, cast not on us your frail light!
We grow to the point, “Britain, here we come”.
Be you hard, be you soft, you are welcome.
66
Holy lord, we invite you; you’re to come;
Power soaked greetings from who to become;
The Delta, free, a sited mangrove tree,
Of a proud state in a fine prairies spree,
The holy mangrove standing on stilt roots,
Grow tall and erect like soldiers boots.
Our roots: we dream of, and long for, you.
Your creeks and streams serve us in all we do.
True, we have the sweet tone, the true salt, here.
True, we with Fulani, our fish we share.
They have the llama meat; we have the dice.
The sweetest yam we eat, and slice by slice.
67)
The sweetest yam cannot outshine the rice
And doing as we like’s our enterprise.
We eat what we can; can what we can’t eat.
Our ownership of the clan is our bait.
At times, we look sad when we see our maid.
Our sorely cave the sad oppressors raid.
It is fat late; shall we all go hungry?
It is late, culture, long will not bury.
We have, and fat our crayfish of all sorts.
The holy clan with our prayers are in sports.
And then and low and low we sink into sleep.
The thought we own here is good wine to sip.
68)
All in all, the oneness of all we keep.
Above all, rudeness pushes us too deep.
The wo and ko of the oil driven pipes,
The wet spilled from the pipes of diverse types,
And flow through enriched and sound geography –
Name them in Niger Delta biography.
Stem of long peace we have caught in our arms
With olives we have caught and held in bands.
All times we feed fat on our own, you see.
Most time it’s banquet; it’s always easy.
We take no vengeance to a long drawn run.
We take no vengeance at all, that we scorn.
69)
We take no long venge, as we eat our corn.
From the mere Cancer to the Capricorn.
We are sung to sleep; we have naught to fear.
Tens of souls, drops of blood, we do not care.
We must take the sad potion against steel
And we have drawn closer tight to them still.
Thrusted backwards into the millennium ,
A swelling bale of hope in continuum.
We try and try and hard towards milieu.
We have the clans’ shine silver in full view.
And none shall fallow lie, so take the bier.
But into the throne dive and hold the lair.
70)
Sons and yet to come shall tread on land toi
We will smile as we dance and march koi koi.
One thing is red in our hand, a red clout.
One thing speaks loud from our throat, a thick gut.
Our soft hand is a daring bundle
And the weak must cross the power hurdle.
Strength them comes from the earth through the xylem .
Wastes then get off the bundle through the phloem
And sing the Niger Delta off the rains.
Let the dumb mouth then open without reins.
A purposeful rich formation this is ,
An intended rich formation as this.
71)
An intended rich geography we kiss;
Will keep us together, lead us to bliss.
With pregnant unism in obeisance,
A pregnant natural sweet alliance.
We’re safe; we’re proud; we sing aloud.
In this wise, God uses this sim in cloud.
If only the mouth sings god without close,
And fresh days of hope will come as a dose,
To sing the Niger Delta creeds become
And those who won’t sing it we overcome.
Who’s to sing the natured composed lyre song?
Who’s to play the Niger Delta long gong?
72)
Who will sing the Niger Delta for long?
With the wish of God, fear of gods along?
But they are all gone, those nationalists.
With their backs bleeding, they hush the colonists.
They will crack off rude law decadent.
They had the Neptune, the Trident,
Denote and connote of tall wood.
Oh Delta grey! This is the Deltahood!
Radiate the rare light of the true Delta.
Each of them for each of them to cater.
Engage the men, Delta; each one engage.
And Niger Delta oil , where is your gauge?
73)
Oh Niger Delta lord’s, we are in rage.
In plenty must we lie and live in cage?
A relation like, this soft and clayey,
Reveals your goal, oh Delta, not cagey.
In scent, your men in wet glue with you chart.
In friendship, not that between cat and rat,
Maintain the law which your real God gives you,
Not the bond of lion and the caribou.
Reveal the nod and the odds of your souls.
The soul of the Lamp keeps alive all soles.
I want to smile all the time, oh my home,
Not only that, to make it full home norm.
74)
E’en embryo budding glory , this will hum
To keep me awake all night this line to form.
The promise old ,of the old gods, I keep.
True culture of heaven, this I sip.
As shone when they bathe on the glassy sea,
The premise new of heaven we will see.
It is the caress of sun on the quid,
Where greenly hyacinth and salt lily bid.
We must leap and laugh in joy that this be..
It makes us to rub the juice of the bee.
We must let the Delta others to give.
The Niger Delta other to relive.
75)
The Niger Delta order we retrieve?
Dank, wet and glossy on the honey live.
Then to be one as lone Niger Delta,
Herein here and in the world hereafter,
Hear our prayer and in truth take this, oh God.
Hear proud men from proud umbilical cord.
Hear ,lilies of the continental shelf.
They renew the pain of the self killed self.
In the Niger Delta so much inhere.
Do you call rivers, creeks and lakes here or there?
The beaches sand of the Atlantic reach,
This every good, good day I long to reach.
76)
Yes every good, good meal, I love to dish.
Yes, the fish tilapia along the beach,
Arranged in rows, in curves, and in fine lines,
Like moraines on the arctic to snowlines.
The timber white is like the abura,
All similar to woods of Madura .
These are the true bounties of the country
Nodded to by the voice of Jove , really.
But note: three guilds of witchcraft here inhere.
But note: there are three swords and all fight here.
We can live the dove world for we all love.
As we love, the Gibraltar we can move.
77)
Elations in thoughts put us on the move.
Though we love, though we move , we do not carve.
And From here to the Futa Djallon high,
We pray for peace and hope and do not sigh.
When evil minds take their shape, they suck bucks.
The milk is spilt ; and the dried then comes and sucks.
They fell our timber closest and not far
And keep our oil in some mightiest jar.
So rich; but have we thrown the door open
For them all to take the bread unleaven?
They take our lots and we not give back us.
They teach us to take note of our focus
78)
They force us to remember our locus.
For then we have thought like the Abacus.
Oh Delta, we do greet your religion .
We will revere you for reasons legion.
To follow Epicurus in a quiz.
Brilliant hope in brilliant land shall not freeze.
God says from our back the scale he will peel.
“I have seen your state, the thieves’ trouble deal.
Up, follow me; you will see my radiance”.
The god of truth and peace is our guidance.
“I am God your God, for am everywhere;
Nor me here; nor me there; I am no where”.
79)
“If you know me here you serve me here;
And movement like this will keep your soul not wear;
I am the God of Buddha in India,
God of the many gods in Cambodia,
The Oritse God in Isekiri , this is Horise God in Djekiri,
As this God was called in Egypt.
And Djekiri in ancient world well kept.
This served the mighty God as true self;
The milky way of yore like a golden calf.
They had the power; but are like high slaves.
Their souls are for the maker; them he saves”.
80)
Their souls are for the maker, ways he paves.
And each of this clans to God always craves.
If to the Supreme power he rushes,
He then grows annoyed and all He crushes.
Think hard ,pray well, work hard in unity
My tongue licks all tongues to infinity.
These clever ones we are the leader of;
Within here and there and then far off;
They sigh; they weep; they cry; they do not rest.
Emboldened by the love of peace in quest,
But let’s raise our souls, both heads and shoulders,
In all places like buffalo soldiers.
81)
And in our show as buffalo fighters,
We’ll kick; and box; and shoot like brigadiers.
We’ll drive on, clam and seize the jugular
Of all thieves, if in group, or singular.
And will seize and choke them, any bull that calls;
We are in our land; and won’t serve like stiff dogs.
We live in canopy of divine cart.
Our power is the divine in the part.
Look at the Niger Delta capitals,
No longer are there stealing radicals.
We search the nooks and creeks of same.
We search, we see, we take our very name.
82)
We comb the place to put in place the fame
Like an ice block depository Kame.
When nature reacts, it does so in accord
And thick rains fall when the sun is on board.
The ocean streams play when the earth moves west.
Salt and fresh water, giving starch, we can thirst.
And bulls and snakes co-mix to save us men.
The day break cry of the owl is omen.
Warri, Port Harcourt. Ughelli if mixed,
Will make a bed where all foes will be kissed.
The Niger Delta reacts and all is due.
In this life and life to come all is blue.
Chapter ten
Problem And Solution,
Peace And Development
For The Niger Delta Re X-Rayed
(Honsbira)
The Niger Delta is good to honour,
We, befitting fighters, need to fight.
No, not true benefit as the donor.
Per day, we see the sign of things not right.
For truth’s sake, we must all be serious.
This tendency will lead us to crisis.
We have to jump or leap like pike to cross,
As everyone to every one rises.
The weight of the clan , that thick, is all one.
Thus, they are wont to say we like war and so,
Though in love of the dear land we are one.
The government makes us irate also,
Hidden by a common stay in the cone.
2)
But why, in diversity, are we in cone?
Circumferencing Orere , Yenagoa.
We are joint heirs of our clan prone and lone.
They catch us; are they friendly? Human boas!
The claw of the lion Niger Delta is,
We’re kept in gardens; thorn bushes ripen.
To show the men of vision all the songs of bliss,
In a clan where things dangerous open
Guarded by pale thoughts from afar
And the die in hands of dick who hurry.
We’re made to vomit black things seeming tar.
To our luck all the good things shall hurry.
3)
Things holy make us lucky, not sorry.
All religions chase us fast round and round.
They lash us ‘pia’; want us to say story
They know not that ,pumped balls, we will rebound.
So, with bad taste, we are left to motion.
The sad companies that are uncanny
In tricks and traps most high of concentration.
It is most vexing thing of tyranny.
Our low companies are not in our side.
Ah, the ruse and the tact are in focus;
Our reciprocals much they from us hide.
Oh no! These and the like are the great loss.
4)
Strengthen by Algebra and by Calculus,
The narrow strip they take to our gullet,
To rub our soft hearts which work Abacus.
But they squat on high stools and say Juliet,
Become funny as we rage in age hood
Departing from love pity they do stare
Into our face, into the Deltahood.
As their speed- and and large boats
Speed high, each sings its sweet song, sha sha sha ,
The foe sing scorn songs, ya, ha , yo, hoho
Like those old many men on a dead man’s chest.
When they rob, they rob in pleasure. Oh.
Research in poems to meet up at the desk.
5)
God put us to test; we put them to test.
In our land we are in extremity,
The niger Delta scions in hope do bask
To deal with divide to rule reality.
No one can us contain – not Olomu.
Our gaze bare made; the castle strength, free born.
Nor abled napoleon at Olumutz.
When shall the wicked all be put to scorn?
Yes, when sour order tuns to nuisance.
The Delta has taken odds to measure.
Our people’s wits as they pose on and stance
In name of order she will all culture.
6)
In tunes with order high, it is fixture,
Of the home in its mix a strange colour.
We do not talk as we are wont to do.
As though no humans; we are things or creatures.
To fight to further tame the enemy,
All Niger Delta will ring loud bell,
To dart the foe with hot tears from Mary.
And like a vanquished chased to a hot wall,
And never more to fear a further shame,
Though in a world of greed, he gripped all whole,
What serious story depressed one shall frame?
Oh Niger Delta: now holds the big bowl.
6)
If Niger Delta writes the ancient scroll,
And claims that for this scroll she was born,
And claim that she will all at its side roll,
What can the world say, save pick grains of corn?
But thievish fortune seeking boys shall tell
That closed ears of all who hear it are blessed
To witness aloud the tin, tin rung bell,
In ethics smooth and coat of safety dressed,
In the den of the lion man could speak,
The plan shall rein e’en, if long it takes.
But not weak, the lion seems to be too sick.
And the truth reigns most in midst of the stakes.
7)
They’re stifled, amid the lions in their wakes.
When Niger Delta now throws off her cakes
When Niger Delta casts off the pebbles
Onlookers will feel that is what it takes.
Oppressors say on them we cast our stones.
They pass the gates to the land to peep us.
At times not only flesh can fight, but bones.
“And don’t be slaves in your own land.” “Discuss”.
A Social Studies question to caution,
As good here, stones old colonialism;
A Nationalism in construction
To fight greed, heaped on capitalism.
8)
A political song for orgasm,
And coming up as our fresh resources,
A political song, sung as ism ,
Gather up my strength from many sources.
And with long arrow, you will be yare.
The story is slow of how they scatter,
Coming and going this many an hour.
This frame of stories will never shatter.
They have been out to cut our nature low.
Let each draw his end; the knot to be tight.
9)
We suffered much and long lining the Bight,
In the days of mist; in the min of frost.
The rope of love and care will jackass bite,
The silver steel of our oneness gets rust.
What a message new; we will have our rest,
And sup the fat comb of its sweet brown juice.
From hunger makers hard we want to rest,
To sleep with the pair soft and not to bruise.
May we serve our gods on tall altars and shrines?
Who says we have no God, but these small gods?
Our god is our god – not the asharins
Ah! God has its gods to send – the small lords.
10)
We know all this, but we still play bad cards.
In a nation with a concern for worries
Will serve the God of gods and the Lord of lords.
In new religions you hear new stories.
We are gods to God; we are angels.
Some gentle representatives we are.
We are free with God just as wise Engels.
The memory sweet of love and care are rare.
To one another we say “You will cry”.
We pounce on one, and we seize the other
To such a size e’en the foe says “But why”.
all at once we love to kill the other.
11)
Be it as it may I do not bother,
Oh Niger Delta, I sleep in air high;
Where rivers meet as two they will utter.
When rivers in two meet they say “whuyy whuyy”.
The honour of stressed brother hood rest lay
To counter brotherhood sweet is no risk.
In joy of togetherness don’t delay .
In passion feat, or in ways of intrigue
We with the within and without contend.
This is because we and dear lords’re in league.
The heavens of our hope shall most extend.
What a trick form is this: divide and rule?
Much energy spent until we are pale?
They rope person-person to tear to pull.
Porous might they take away and for sale
12)
Repeat: porous minds our foes do take out to sale
In markets where human wits are not low.
They take our might where demand is not stale.
The long lost state of mouthy minds does not bow.
Good natured children will look back and weep.
Delta sees we are cut off from our niece,
Watching our peace cast into the lunar deep.
Each fat Deltan changes to dried up piece
To riches that destroy we are not kind.
We all glare in adaptability.
They don’t regard here in good way or kind
As they show incompatibility.
13)
We have naught from our wealth , but much fears,
It’s sweet incomprehensibility.
Some black bones fear the cheaters in hot tears.
Like the fear for small girls in Cocotea.
To live the soft crust to a stony state
And we grope; they trace us in devices.
All efforts to get lose seems to be late.
We look up our lean heads in crevices.
Oh God strange chance has made us all we are.
The Delta is not lost let none disdain.
There is one witness; he is the lonely star.
The mind hard dry needs a shower of soft rain.
14)
The Niger Delta may refuse to rain.
This maid day in and day out, always cry.
Good persons are slained; to the land this’s stain.
This’s our day; and why are they so wry?
Why? They see something that they wont release.
They roast our order in the hot fire pan
The eagle Milton thinks of increase
Like makers of milk who talk of the can.
When I came here for the sixty-sixth trip,
A tender boy‘s the Niger Delta whole.
And this’s my sixty seventh and long sip.
It was a home good: God played God’s role.
15)
Oh God! This torn home was a bed better.
She tied well kinds with kids and kind with kinds.
Of this I wrote. I can present the letter.
Will such rains ever rain? Oh lord, he minds.
When efforts to keep all right thoughts fail,
Good epigram will hold all the world round.
And a small group of people it will bail.
In terms of real thought some of us are sound.
The Ijaw and the Igbo as a clear group;
The Urhobo and the Old Isokos
The Ishan and Bini in one fine loop,
In true , league not in twain, with Koko’s
16)
In this league, the voice will be Aroko.
Our navel tapping power from the earth,
They are like basin lives in Orinoco.
The dreams of the gone old ones we can bet
For this and for all else we rise and sing.
The fear of the torn stops not the palms froth.
In face of the birds of the air the fruits ring.
And e’en catches small birds for us in air forth.
The Delta forest is combed for reserves.
She care deserves; who will give this care?
The creeks are oiled that nothing good it conserves.
We beg for care; all we can get is fear.
17)
We call for care, there is wear at the rear.
And tearing open forests, death boas rove.
Some in front of the house, they are too near,
And to fight with the beast, they do not move.
Fine fan shaped bulging bird’s foot formation!
What we have is for us, not for all else.
Oh Delta, your scions are your religion.
Low nature’s lore, are not her lost, for us caress.
When you shed tears, they are timidity.
Big Delta, we perceive each other small;
We worship fear, and not lucidity.
Caged by our brothers to new comers small.
17)
In some ways, I heed no call, not God’s call.
In some ways, I have reasons legion named
In the hall of who won’t see, in that hall,
In such halls the hard dealers will be tamed,
Pressed by the chest of the priest destitute,
The gates are closed, but the doors are not locked.
That is the might and it is absolute.
They want to make us Von Roon, not John Locke
Unwelcome Econs have our day sunken
We call the Delta high for whom to save.
The hope is high, and the roads are broken.
The bird’s foot lords shall save all the crave.
18)
Thick bird’s foot leaders will help us to shape;
The deeds of the ones not whole give us aches;
Like fowl-like men in the days too old, just like Dave;
Control the deep self; that is all it takes.
We look round Warri for one to save us;
The heads of the good cheats do roll aground;
We then move through clean London and to Laos;
Their utterance not good, is only gerund.
This is sad tale to tell, but we have no tell tale.
He who could give us live messed up the lives –
I mean the soul savior that made us stale.
They leave us dry like the honey bare hives.
19)
Where pleasure with love and lore dwells and lives
A little crow not seen is the wicked.
And the land, greedy going fast like thieves,
A little ant, not fat is the crooked.
A time shall come we will rule our destiny.
The land is ours, “Egypt for Egyptians”.
It’s morning, we are still off the evening.
If you like, come, pose like the Galatians.
That time and often, fat ball of fat tears to flow.
Though we weep, we won’t say the reason.
In spinals, sorrow’s salt begins to grow.
It sucks deep so much it leaves our face dry.
19)
Like balls of cat fish ready for the fry,
There’re seven faces and they are all grey.
It happens many years now, ask De Bry.
That time we had a box of hope, a ray.
There was fire on the mangrove red trees,
Cracked faces and coiled to plight unending,
Rough faces brained from their point unbending.
The eagles watch, perched on the mangrove seas.
In pains, in pangs, in trauma, our hopes wring.
As people who would talk of rejection
In heed to greed and lust their bells ring.
As people who all cry of ejection.
20)
We are pinned down by those in elation.
They excess having they use as cushions.
We are pinned down in honest volition.
Our gutless standing serves them as pushing.
We do team up , but to be killed in teams?
O’er good ideas they show no good pointer.
Why store up these ills and ails in our Sims.
An ancient evil note on the counter?
In mad cerebrums sorrows start to grow,
We, oppressed, looking like those who oppress.
I will swim the Niger Delta, will not bow
Of our freedom the proponent to bless
21)
We are gladdened; our nets shall hold them neat.
Exponents of redemption, freedom men!
Those in flight for right do not cast their net.
In the midst of the crooked is too mean.
Some time big headed, others self centered.
Wise thoughts that tend to the truth turn child like.
Life destroyed can make better life bettered.
Truth employed can cure mistruth so littered.
On the whole, glide o’er them like a kite.
The negation laws mare known, and they bite.
Where shall we go from here, oh country men?
There are lots of two strange birds at the Bight.
These seem to near the burst in abdomen.
21)
The cry or motion against domination
Transforms oppressed lots to sour oppressors ;
It boomerangs to self help reproduction,
The true aggressed look like the aggressors.
We are a parrot who has lost the way.
And we elude oneness in all essence.
Time intervention timed shall take the day.
Thus, it continues – milking process!
We will get to see this in thought process.
As thoughts go on and far as a process.
We are like that ; we take it , therefore.
We are like that; though not like that before.
22)
Like lost sheep from the shepherd, we go stray,
We are like monsters, taken off order.
All we do , we have to pray, if in May.
For prayer is our guide and our ruder.
All we pray for is peace, an easy peace.
Being disemboweled, this land is x-rayed .
Receive the price of poor man apiece.
In our big home where for long we have stayed,
The Niger Delta barks and brays same time.
This is philosophy in a new breeze!
It is philosophy of time, not brine.
We’ll follow Socrates to trace this quiz.
23)
We’ll follow Socrates to do the biz.
We hold one tree to rest our hope the oak.
To nourish the oak our power shall not freeze.
As a step in deep learning we will soak,
For the core of the heat has been deep.
The bled heart is fresh; across it the right.
The bled hole is long; into it they peep
And glide past over us like a lifeless kite.
This winged lifelessness we have to undo.
Like sheep, now ,all we can say is ‘alright’
And worse the lifeless winglessness to do.
The taste of the poor turns our land to site.
24)
The heavens and her host for us will cater.
The owner true of the clan will then lead,
The heaven and the host as the leader.
The race and her men in space take the lead;
For before now, here was a home of law.
Oh flash light, oh windfall. But I do ask:
And into here palms for gold do bore.
But in my wringing, I perform my task.
Bind me, sweet nature, to what I think out.
The bat without its anus does excrete.
Yes ,by the gods from within and without,
The Niger Delta craft will more means create.
25_)
The rum of our joy is packed full in crate.
True bloom of the oil for the sons of the soil.
Await the role, comely as noble state.
By the way, who says we are all for oil?
They breathe out fire of envy so cruel,
Grow sick of envy and long jealousy.
The sun goes down in mournful apparel
Like towns of cats prone to thieves, to pussy,
And dots of deprivation losses,
A cone of realization to injure,
A strengthless eye like hay-less horse is.
When sages hung, they do so to conjure.
26)
When sages fast they do so to implore
Make one self more strenghtless in the foci,
The true owners of our fine scene far removed,
To hard focus in hard loci,
Bathe in the dull mud in the lake deprived,
We seep in strength each day we are angered,
Drink from the dirt mud of the lake retrieved.
The looters rub in the loam unfiltered.
We shall sail from port to port like Sinbad.
Where the time ends, the seas shall say ‘thank you’.
Struck much cold, slashed with rays – this is too bad.
Tall houses and tall trees are grown few.
27)
In midst of this race gallants are too due,
And God from our back this scale does pill.
At your back, for your care, we do up queue.
We killed the scorpions, the snails we can kill.
From forehead, below the chest, we are there ,
Do we follow God’s guidance and radiance
Like carrots, our black gold, plucked everywhere?
But with strange laws and rules in assonance.
We have been taking the most bitter chime,
And envy balls all over us do roll.
What we have shows up as part of the clime.
What dare we not say: care, wealth, is it love?
28)
Their shiny leaves sun never caresses.
Who drinks raw blood and hopes for God’s caress?
From deeds like Shylock’s and its excesses
The evil ones of the earth will compress.
They fill not our own purse , but their own course.
But who will make here God’s, save me or you?
As they see us as lasting in their purse,
Save yourself, who will do for you, who?
The more you others try to help, the worse.
Last year, I was at Plato‘s, this to view.
I came home sick with gases as a dose.
The need to lay my palm at the cheeks, too.
29)
As such I do watch with sharp gaze, too.
But where in the true Delta does our hope lay?
Is it in crisis, is it in the coup?
Thus, how, from within, can we get the ray?
Ain’t the ears open being shut by the bow?
Oh Niger Delta, oh Niger Delta!
We give God reasons for our love in row.
Oh Niger Delta, oh Niger Delta.
To live the world anew, is it the cure?
But we’re not made to fight; we’re sons of fur.
We construct our lives, owing to this mood.
30)
Our children along the beach fit the mood.
They think of the clan the home to recreate.
When orphans cry, they think of Kojo Wood
Whose chastity and charity do create.
The Niger Delta stands on a ground forlorn.
Some men who die do not die as before;
They have died as strange men on land whereon
The clinic of the soul is not at fore.
The clinic of the soul has to be searched.
Our spirit medium and seers there for us
They view the Niger Delta, cherished,
Take special note of here like French Saint Louis .honsbira
Martyrs of the Niger Delta
from the Earliest Days
to the Time of Okonjo Iweala
Saro Wiwa
Rue the day that you were born,
Death to love, in piteous scorn,
Sifting sand on wings of time,
Bloody lies so full of crime,
Days of rest that truth was killed,
Wrapped in evil cheaply willed.
Cursed the day that you were slain,,
Dreary curse of evil plain,
Piteous tales are wrote of thee,
Cutting hearts from you to me.
Dreaded tales are told of you,
Blinding hearts with hellish dew.
Blessed the day that you rise up,
Dancing slink like jolly top;
Fetching truth from nascent wells,
Scooping rimes from ancient dells.
Like some men of noble birth,
So we drink the radiant breath.
St Ifa
Chapter eleven
Touching the Earth ,
(dissecting Niger Delta Problems
and Their Solution)
(St Ifa)
Dedication
To Bori-Duaghan , a piece of Shakespeare
Two leaders great, that rule the state with care.
Introductory
My Father ’Gude, my grandfather’s Saint,
Forgive the present stain of your wat’ry van,
With dark rear oil of spoilt lives and land spent;
And rills, voes, brooks, holms, lost in tricky plan
We breathe no more grandsire’s surcharge cool breeze.
Stale oil with lethal bubbles on your water floats,
It’s ugly face – the piteous loss of peace.
It’s muddy paste–a song of fevered goats.
Ogude great, arbiter of lost love!
Ogude great, provider of full joy!
Save now this land with your time healing dove,
And bring its wondrous fruits to full employ.
Save now the springs of our wondrous sweet dream.
And bless our land with your verdant sweet cream.
This poor ménage cram-full with tortuous heads;
This wretched zone where ichthyoid beings swim bare
In sodden soupy swill, where Satan treads;
And callous pale want cast her most grim glare.
Eidetic visions, born of old time pain,
Sad quoin and crux of noble warring tongues.
This neurobiotic waste of thunder’s reign
Blasts us cruelly with all its potent throngs.
Lord Emma comes to calm the olden bite,
The pauciloquent one rides on with care,
Directly choosing times sure way to right
The wrongs: the ills that others dare not dare.
He has promised to do deeds picturesque,
Where our robust wills will stand statuesque
My brothers we live with no cheers, in tears;
Cruel plenteous sufferings our tamed minds do hound;
They laugh at us, mock us with odious jeers:
They smite us low, poor beasts, so much so bound.
We stand behind our fears with timid hearts.
Recurrent fear sits calm, nor good nor fair,
It pierces us with all its lethal darts.
Ensconced in hope, we seek the cool fresh air,
Frothing free as buds in full bloom of May,
That blesses us full with the fat of the fields.
These yields pepped with the joy of the sun’s ray.
Is peace that crowns our harvest with sound yields.
It behoves us much this peace to find,
A robust peace, so sweet and gentle-kind
So sad, so bad, the towns that are swept bare.
As dread as death, the deeds that are so cruel.
Tough times rank tides; the war that would not spare.
In Warri, lone and bare, hot heads in duel
So fierce with blast of thunder ranging high.
Fun times stood trimmed with tunes of singing low.
And lo, we sighed and cried to land and sky
Cold death soft hate, unveils her benign brow.
Their calm coloured as coal caressed the clans,
Offering sweet peace to much a ravaged land.
Rare poetry lulls upon their peaceful plans.
Ijaw, Jekri, to tune of a new brand,
Love singing peaceful songs that me delight,
Yes, tunes so soft that calm my soul at night
Austerely crammed in want, we pine and cry.
We whine the pangs of woe that cramp us low.
Hot tears tear us the salt that robs us dry.
Sore grieved, we cry: “Buho, buha, buho”.
Our sore crammed heads lament the cranky croons.
Doom’s priest lull us to sleep – raw sleep, cruel dreams,
Their sleep of lies raving in heinous moons.
These lies, these pains; false lulls, like truth most seems
Fat as the benevolent moon, well fed
By her sky mother’s fill, is our new cool
And robust joy, with gains of plenty bred.
Our present gains over our past woes rule.
Lord Emma has blot all the pains of Night
Neat clean, with the radiant shine of his bright light.
These meretricious rivers of no worth,
With manful boast of brinish bouts invade
These eyots sadly, as our thirst burst forth.
Our pesky selves are drowned in brackish raid.
Beside the depths we wash our hands with tear.
With throats dry as rust metal blades, we groan.
Mere brooms! We are slimmed in our land so dear,
Where hateful thirst’s pang will not spare a loan.
Calm waters fill our cup-stretched hands to brim.
Sweet embrocation filled with living springs,
Flow in our veins, refreshing us with vim
These beauteous lands with sweet music do ring.
Young lions! We are filled with cool waters blest,
That gives our blest souls the much needed rest.
They have injured the injury we’d injured,
With sores, raw-wounds; blood laced, pain filled; in red.
Like witches they’ve our inmost pains conjured,
Red pains that all our latent evils fed.
Near mealy mouthed, mute to moans we mope.
Our lingoes of woe stand shaking ’tween our lips.
Our hearts betray, detract our minds from hope.
Lean poor estate our wretched living rips.
Sweet coral-red’s, the hue of our new lease;
Untaint sweet lease, our robust hope’s sweet face:
The face of hope, blowing her lenient breeze,
Fresh cool, with the lazing lure of her full grace.
Her might’s the smile the light of the sprite of right.
Righting the bloom of our valiant delight.
“Home coming child, pore not on this poor grin.
A specious laugh, slipp’ry as okra soup,
Lure us now with obstrep’rous pangs of sin;
The arch-bent pythons kill with its cruel loop.
Sweet child, tobacco stained, though my teeth be,
Hunched-back with weights of load, though my want seem,
The bead-laying hens, sucked lean, own we.
She daily dies to feed th’urbs with coral beam”.
“My lovely sire, the cities magic light,
Its steady flows from Ogun’s regal pipe
Pure wool, white teeth, in all her shiny sight,
Will sure abide with us, when time be ripe.
We shall be sate in our land so dear,
When God’s rich hand caress all with care.
Cackle at me, I will guffaw at you.
Blood-red, harsh and stale laughter soak your teeth.
Grim grins, steel-dry, bring our woes to full view.
Raw suff’ring full’s the harsh stale air we breathe.
Deride my name; I will mock at your soul.
We are the slaving monkeys, bent to pull
The wheels of trech’rous carts with baboon’s pole.
Fatigued with want, we curse this ape’s harsh rule.
We shall then laugh, when roses dance with zest,
When violets tune blue runes in joyful tide,
When nature’s songs evoke from us the best,
When work and profit’s lease shall then abide,
When monkey, apes and baboons will live in joy,
Bringing their latent gifts to full employ.
Enfeebled with acute groans in sharp pains,
Enfolded with mundane dalliance, poor sought,
Enforcing strong the pinions of cruel reigns,
Engaged now with abstemious tastes of low worth;
Befuddled much with porcine greed, they dare:
They stole our beads, before our beady orbs.
These poor and hungry eyes san rest nor care,
With bleary stare watch their beads light the urbs.
Sweet rest beholden whole our labour comes
To blot the blight that blinded blunt our minds,
And Emma-like, the fruits of sweet joy welcomes,
The sponge that cleans the hearts of nightly blinds.
Like birds at roost, we shall have requite
When our dear beads shall our remote creeks light.
Full blown, sore eyed disdain and loathsome hate
Greets this cursed wedlock, I see round about.
Misshapen made, full raided, raped of late,
Wondered I much this menial marriage’s clout
Gripping me like mere bitch, a slave for rape.
Red stained with blood, my garments tell the tale
Of broken hymens ‘yond much sought escape,
Where I stood like a whore, a bitch for sale.
The doctor’s hand shall treat my sores with care,
He shall wear me a new gown of respect,
A gown no tooth can deride, sweet and dear;
A virgin gown, unstained, none can reject.
This gown of truth shall be soused with wisdom,
As wisdom smiles, I shall leap with freedom.
You have cramped us so low, oh wicked judge!
Slap-dash, you billed the laws that made us poor.
Beneath our sorrows we pine, mere slave, mere drudge
Cut off from our own, we stand at the door
Of wealth and peep at our state of dire want.
Abuja is fat from our sinews blood,
Languish we yet, in want from hind and front,
This severe blow, backed with a lev’lling flood.
We know now that places of glorious sight
Where sleeping night seems much like beauteous day,
Are results of goodly work and brave fight,
That crowns their joy in all its wondrous way.
Rising sun! We’ll scale the hills to greatness;
And cure th’oleophilic wastes of darkness.
Pure plain penurious people piping poem!
Poor poems! Pathetic parlance of poisoned pulse,
Plucks palmy peace form their pasty phlegm.
The picaroon purchasing pictures false,
Poor pictures, feeding the porcine greed of the paymasters,
The paymasters who pad their pockets full:
Pool full, a pageant play of pagan posers,
Pacing the pale peons paxed in peaceful fool.
Of peaceful pacification we pray.
Oh purple prince, pure pruned in perfect plan
Show our pained plans the perky peaceful way.
Your period shall plant the pure in man.
Oh perfect prince, pure pruned in purple peace,
Pad us with this paean that paves our lease.
Exiguous meals, our tables litter so,
Perilous deals, our sore hearts bitter with.
This oily waste in cruel dark cuts us low,
Steals joy from us, and foils our terrains pith.
Like crazy cows, we hunt the pale-faced ones
The steady ’complice of pot-bellied loots,
Beyond the river great: in house of pawns:
Where they load our wealth in their greedy boots.
With sagely wisdom dropping from the sky,
The sapient one taught us to fish from tubs.
With piscine plenty, we breathe happy sigh.
The gain of plenty our gentle mind rubs.
We lament no more at the city bourn;
And we groan no more with a sullen mourn.
Forgive me Olomu, if I allow
Pale strangers to soil Ebrohimian soil.
Your happy earth cannot accept the plough.
It lays bare waste – a heavy curse of oil.
Forgive me forebear, if I stand aloof
And can bargain not with chalky clans
Whose wicked deeds are all we need as proof
That they are spoilers of your glorious plans.
Your bones are manure to strengthen our land.
Your smiles are sagely and will light our path.
Your blood, the fuel that will power our band
Your robust love will clam our anger’s wrath.
Your sweet palmy oil shall cure all our ills,
Not this oily curse that tampers with skills. *
Our famished land is sealed from smiles of hope,
The beams of former suns that healed the land.
How I wish I could with th’old time elope –
Run far and caress the non oily happy sand.
Our hungry land stares in confused haze –
Near blind from Time’s sharp spears that prick her eye.
She sits amid pale holms in muffled daze,
As she pines her oily waste in ruffled sigh.
We must now water her sorrow paths with care,
And with the sun’s lease girt her for the mart,
Where none will laugh at her old sorrow dare.
With the moon’s radiance we’ll our sweet land crown
And move her ’yond the ken of her old frown.
The sickly face of pale crest fallen sun,
Shine his wan light on the dreary waste land.
Our chanty rhymes with its opaque fun,
Blur blunt, the sun’s torn face with oily wand.
The sun, the land; lament the oily waste,
As osseous ones in struthious mood plant their shame,
Slim shame, rendering people to wanton taste,
In a rich land lost to its former name.
A newborn sun sings bold from window east:
Her chants raise heads from angry lands and rills,
And touches the joyous land with his feast,
With message, hope and songs to glory hills.
This darling sun has come, we’ll drink from the deep
And sing love songs from the soul’s sagely sleep.
This lochial flow: the pangs of our sad birth,
Plague us with needles of carefree mid wives;
Birthing us straight: head on to a muted death.
Paludal wastes! Thin oily hued waste lives,
Stare us bone deep, with their most potent force.
Poor souls, lost dreams; drained lands, all them lament
The sad inhuman curse of ugly loss,
Eating so deep the land – a fine monument.
The quislings of loaned wealth have flown to naught
Salubrious smiles from sacral souls chase them
Beyond the Deltan brooks with deadly wrath.
Mellifluous wind of change smile with the dawn,
The dawn of love that brooks no flowing mourn.
These curls, a serpentine slow waste of brooks
And rills: a sorry sight of dirty plots
From lords combing the towns and rural nooks
With stern, harsh rules, our painful woes and lots.
Plain zestful zombies, zanied with zesty dreams,
We stare eyes closed, our nostrils opened wide
As our full wealth buttered th’orbs with rich creams,
Mad fruits of cunning wicked divide.
Repine we must from this noxious law –
Blind creeds from blinder minds soused with false wit.
Lion bold! We shall destroy this smut and flow
With manful zeal and breath where plenty sit.
Now feel the zephyr calm our lethal woes
Cleanse us from spiteful crooks with odious throes
Waiting pale at the gate of sumptuous wealth –
Gleaning learn-long for saving food of grace,
Poor dregs with helot’s plight scan with cautious stealth
The fixity of plenteous woes in tortuous pace:
Woes that scarce deign to comfort our riposte:
“We are pawned fawns in crazy hands of want,
That eats deep slow our lands, our lives and coast.
Stand we forlorn, removed without a front,
The Messiah’s smile beams forth with healing light,
Salving our souls with lush unquenching zeal.
His smiles brush off the spites of hideous Night;
Filling our souls, our lives with grand cool deal.
His cooling deals, like clouds is the sturdy bower
The shelter strong that shields us in his power.
With Mercy’s hand we must touch this sad earth
Pale faced, from brutal gangs oppressive stare:
A hideous glare, abased, soaked rife with death:
Cruel miasma ooze that sets the land astir.
With joyful fluid, we must bath clean this land,
Thin necked from callous laws with fatal hold –
A wasteful sorry gift to th’ailing sand,
Much angry, sad, unfed, left in the cold.
With happy sweet deeds, we must bless this soil,
With blessings full with sumptuous dreams of life,
A breather gained from all its pangs and toil
Where it will sing with zestful lyre and life.
Love’s face has blest the land with bright shine
And healed the land from whining sigh and pine
Riparian men we are! We board the banks.
We board the muddy wastes of painful gain.
Wealth boards our lives in its most hideous ranks.
As weeping skies, lament we much this plain
Injustice, eating deep our common source,
Injustice, brushing off our steady ties-
Injustice cruel, destroying our resources!
We mourn our lost wealth with grave sighs and cries.
The Messiah comes with vibrant songs of love
Full with life’s peace, he cleanse the muddy shrubs,
The rank odd wants, with his with from above.
His full rich poems are our happy rhymes.
Our inmost pains he cures with his calm might,
Sending us straight to the path of true right
Sad faces doomed to want and evil woes,
Expressing full their piteous state of dearth,
Making their lives sore filled with hideous foes.
Plain want, sore oily land, cruel smiling death
In wasted lives, where manful dreams do die.
The heady pangs of pricking pains scare them.
Exposing their bare lives to weeping sky:
Red in blood bout that binds the deprived men.
Now comes Lord Emma with sartorial deeds
Allaying with glad balm their pangs of pain.
Low pains that barred their lives with piteous needs
In abject woe, where dreadful pains did reign
To them, his deeds are a most wondrous kiss;
Yes, full bloomed kiss with its most beauteous bliss.
Tenebrous lean and sad, the faint sky wept,
Her tears, the flood that fills our creeks with gloom:
Her brine, the foam where our manful dreams slept,
And wake our doubts and cause our fears to bloom.
Like some sad tale, she calls the peeping stars,
Siderial signs of wars, of want of pain,
Of battles lost, sad woes – the pangs of Mars:
Where sullen hearts lament their loss of gain.
Morn wakes anew with sumptuous songs of love.
She sweeps the piteous face of the past suns.
She spreads her sweet hope with love from above;
And her sweet clouds upon the poor creeks don.
The sun of love comes in its glorious day
To chase past suns in a most wondrous way.
Her face like dross to be sold at the mart,
Her back, full bent with onus of plain want;
He legs, cruel scissors that prick sore the heart,
And smash its hope with a most callous gaunt
So ugly faced, the Deltan bourns do spread
Cosmetic beauty of crooked fancy’s tale!
Sore tales where beauteous woes like stings are bred;
Where suffering heads walk slim, most weak and pale
Upon the paled voes comes the saving saint
With sweet redemption songs to heal the land:
To heal the pale faced ones, the weak and faint,
In Deltan voes, in Deltan crying sand.
His regal bloom shall pour forth like rain,
Then shall we smile when his brave reins shall reign
Shall I compare you to the week long rain?
You are much cruel and filled with spiteful hate.
Your callous rain descends with scornful pain,
Its pallid strings transform the hands of fate,
Creating stark want from full abundance store.
Much often comes sweet heaven’s healing balm,
Your wicked rains smash all, from hind and fore,
Without the gift of heaven’s creative calm.
Today the rain of plenty shall endure.
This healing rain shall sweep all wanton tear
From eyes of woe and plenteous gains procure
From barren rains to a land sweet and dear.
This healing rain has come with its full ride,
Giving the Deltan bourns most joyous tide.
Deep in the oily soakt and sickly bourn,
Removed from th’urbs majestic name and fame,
Lay Deltans face buried in shameful mourn;
Buried in pain in tortuous woe with maim.
Like leaves on leaves, lean want on want stands cruel,
With ire, to expedite the pangs of woe.
Like clouds on clouds, fierce wars on wars to duel
Releasing full their blows as martial foe.
With leveling swords, the savior comes with might,
Trimming the heads of barren want with zest
Moving faint heals to paths of seasoned right
Where joyful deeds are with gains of much blest
The saving saint pruned us from fretful ranks
And fills our all with good, our bourns and banks
Discordant voices laden sore with grief,
Bore ears with splurging charged splenetic neume.
Concordant woes slap us beyond relief.
A squillion songs, sure-sore and stale as rheum
Fill us with otiose runes of days gone bye.
Incipient wicked thoughts then filled our minds;
And rude, unpruned, uncouth, sore souls’ sly sigh,
Blind us with blight; smite us with spite; woe finds
Its match. As beams pouring from the sublime sun,
Cool Joy, the light that puts all angst to flight,
Has wrapt up the task that Love had begun:
The work of bliss, blest-full in all her might.
The peace-unwavering calm, sigh of the Dove
The seal of joy and fountain spring of love.
My brothers we live with no cheers, in tears,
Cruel plenteous sufferings our tamed minds do hound:
They laugh at us, mock us with odious jeers:
They smite us low, so much so bound.
We stand behind our fears with timid hearts.
Recurrent fears sit calm, nor good nor fair,
It pierces us with all its lethal darts.
Ensconced in Hope, we seek the cool fresh air,
Frothing free as buds in full bloom of May,
That blesses us full with the fat of the fields.
Those yields, pepped with the hope of the sun’s ray
Is peace that crowns our harvests with sound yields
It behoves us much this peace to find:
A robust peace, so sweet and gentle-kind.
Cruel centuries have slept since our fathers,
Back bent as burden beasts, with sweat and tear,
Laboured lean-long, mere donkeys, mere cottars,
In your fore bears fat farms with loads to bear.
Lean hundreds of sore years snailed bye in pain:
We slaved, we toiled, we soiled, we worked, we cried
In your fat farms, where over us you did reign.
As working dogs, we slaved when thin reliefs sighed.
My friend, we forgive all the sins of Night;
When minds devoid of hope swim in the dark
Dim waters of white lies ‘that might is right’.
We shall embrace the rounds of wisdoms’ spark.
The sins of night we cleanse from our soft souls;
We have trampled them under our hard soles.
Our hearts, filled the woes of life, persuade
Us to now blot the new light of sweet joy.
Our souls, filled with the groans of death, have made
Us to put our sad ends to full employ.
Our brains, sate with the blasts of angst deny
Us now the full groomed bloom of ovine peace.
Our minds, drest with the ire of yore, belie
Us now the bovine strength, that breathes our lease.
The Serpent’s dream of eagle’s brave escape
Rise bold in spirit songs in new found dawn:
The dawn of Joy, when Love saved mind the rape
Of Anger’s deal of blood that cuts us like fawn.
Our new found peace is dressed in robust gown,
The peace unmatched still, is our new sweet crown!
Most callous suff’rings breathes upon us here.
Cruel plagues, officious woes, are our means of joy.
Some osseous ones languish as stupid mare,
The oleophilic loss with much annoy.
Oneiric hopes, sore tales of some sore minds,
Decrypt the awful pangs of their poor souls;
Dickering long in the pain that them grinds.
Their tenuous selves trod with their heavy soles.
Hope comes! Sardonic jeers held fast at heart;
Were swept with vibrant wit of sapient knight,
Cram-full with strength that bluffs all woes apart:
All woes that sing in the darkness bloom of night.
Proud as a full moon in a solemn sky,
Lord Emma’s sterling deeds stand bright and high.
Full with the bloom of gruesome doom, we mourn
The griefs and entertain the pangs of pain.
Abashed with loads of woe we stand forlorn;
Abased with tons of pain, where suff’rings reign,
We are spendthrifts of our sore tongues. We groan
With pains, we whine in dire distrust, we cram
Suff’rings in our small minds beyond the loan
Of our pained stomach’s due. They knaw, they ram
Our frames. The Messiah comes in Emma’s robes.
In cloaks of love comes he, our poorly state
To cure – the lean wants of our salient probes.
Our needs he’ll cure in all our stately fate.
We’ve praised your noble and gentle name’
That has our lowly state now zoomed to fame.
When diverse tongues war for nativity,
Diffractions still, fractious tribes beat upon
The drums of war to cruel extremity.
Unto the songs of death, the drums throbbed on_
Unto the seas filled with fraternal blood,
Unto the martial winds soused with anger,
Unto the Deltan voes reeking with blood flood,
Mad brains were bent on gaining more power!
At centre stage the Lord’s of war did meet:
Eyes fierce as lightning, peers into warm eyes.
Warm eyes, cold eyes; in cold-heat did retreat.
The warm eyed said: “My friend we are in need,
Sheathe now your sword, we can be friends in deed".
Estranged vexed tongues fight for native rights.
With angry bows they blow their bowels dry;
And spite their common bonds _ their common plights;
That unite them with dry sigh and tragic cry.
With canoed houses carved like awful ghosts,
They stared at ghostly shadowed phantom trees,
Litt’ring their paupered lives , crowding their coasts,
As quislings cruel, join looters for their lease.
Behind vexed tongues, abaft waste minds comes life:
Sweet joy that tames the hearts of war with calm_
His sweet sartorial deeds calm them from strife;
And heals their land, their bond; with soothing balm.
They see his voice thin clad in drowning dark,
Embracing them to nature’s primal dark.
Some sable, swarthy, soot complexioned souls
Maraud the creeks, locusting on pawned men.
Their ochlocratic rule of dubious roles,
Make laws pirate-like, reeking with blood mien.
Immured from hope, inured to death, they stood:
Still-calm and statue-like. The pain of death
Poured forth its raw blood’s majestic flood.
The frail pawned ones inhaled some fresh cool breath.
Their flying soles zoomed them to some nice realm,
Strumpetting bare, their new found grace for dough:
“For peons take us; we’ll work to keep the dream.
We’ll clear, rake, clean the filthy grass and plough.
With zest, we shall build a state proud as Rome
While blending rainbow hues in monochrome
When diverse tongues war for nativity,
Diffractions still, fractious tribes beat upon
The drums of war to cruel extremity.
Unto the songs of death the drums throbbed on _
Unto the seas filled with fraternal blood,
Unto the martial wind soused with anger,
Unto the Deltan voes reeking with blood flood
Mad brains were bent on gaining more power!
At centre stage the Lords of war did meet.
Fierce eyes like lightning pierce into warm eyes.
Warm eyes, cold eyes; in cold heat did retreat.
As strings of love, the dove song did arise:
The warm eyed said: “My friend, we are in need,
Sheathe now your sword; we can be friends in deed.
Determine now the son of whom you are,
The clerking rascal’s son of Benji’s clan,
Brave Zion-like scion, or tongues without compare.
Determine now, the deeds of which you plan:
Ingenious pranks, ingenuity’s false truths,
Removing envious peace from Deltan’s voe,
Implanting solemn crude deeds with no worth.
Determine now, sweet tunes the which to toe:
Orphean love runes beaming blue with love,
Celestial vibes unmatched by thunder’s raw
Unkind wreaths of death: the peace! The dove
Serene comes to calm the sad wounds of yore.
She melds the broken hearts with great vision,
Now calm, now sweet; the hearts with great mission.
Some inequalities like plague exist
In shanty towns, the dolmens of sweet woe.
Some familiarities like vogue persist
In shabby towns. Rude houses stand in row,
As rude as forlorn heads in dire neglect
Peculiar familiarity, compeer
Of want, the scion of woe, sires of reject.
Rejects of time suff’ring beyond compare,
Glean long and hard for much expectant change.
Exchequer comes! His beaming smile of hope
Uplifts rude heads to a diff’rent range,
Where they can with his sweet message elope.
“The petrous will of faithful time will calm
Our sore pillaged hearts with her sweet soft balm
The virgin knot of our sweet verdant land,
You’ve broke without lush sanctimonious rite.
Our precious blood is spread like cheap black sand
Upon the crying lands, beyond the sight
Of hope, where our holy hymens gush raw _
The full black blood that feeds the hungry urbs.
Plain wicked marriage ‘yond the ken of law,
Has raped our hearts and our souls, now disturbs.
My friend, you will be fat fed with your needs.
With sweet connubial ties will you be blest.
Civil black laws shall bless your noble deeds,
With prime black law, the joy of your sweet rest.
Brave beauty beams, booming in Ethiope’s black,
Packed knit and bright, prime diamonds dusts are dark.
Conclusion
My Lord great ’Gude, my grandsire’s great neume,
We have traveled to the edge of our songs
We have conquered the muddy land, like rheum
We have severed from the wasted pains with thongs,
So sharp, that pricks your unmatched divinity,
Where we’re consumed in wicked deeds and pains;
That mocked then, your unheard of purity,
Where we’re much stifled in sudden rash rains.
Perform the deeds of old with raging storm!
Perform the works of yore in daylight clear!
Perform the yester works in god like form!
Perform the olden deeds, so bold and dear.
With ever living hopes, bless us this day.
Great Lord, make our fat dreams to bloom and stay
Gregg Akinyomi, Moses Kokorogho, Anna Atumu and Joe-pet for typing this work
Chapter twelve
Niger Delta Environment
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My Immediate Environment
In my part of the Niger Delta, know:
We build our house on water, pillars-raised,
Some, short feet above water, like my own;
Like our raised stilted mangrove forest, praised.
Made with poles and planks, the floor can be opened
To let in baited hooks at high tides.
High tides! Water flows in, the house upon.
You can be told that our fish with us abide:
Each time a tilapia or a cat fish
Comes upon your high way for your high food.
For some yards from the house is the fire wood.
The fish’s dances show joy and me enrich.
In time of low tide, I must tell you too:
The water, rich, feet from here, makes things hard.
Get two hooks on the dry mud; you catch two;
As much of these fish as you need are had.
Tied to your trap, tied to you house, catch crabs.
Yards from the house, you get the tortoises.
These’re good like fish and crab, not the pieces.
Honsbira
The Moon Weds My Mind
Are not mirages only on tarred roads?
For the rain of the moon beams on the Atlantic beach
Gives surer mirages weighty to Olobiri from Orobiri.
At night, the moon’s marriage to the proud beach
On the dome keeps me dead cold all night!
I didn’t know, but thanks to the raffia wall openings.
As I lie back-wise on my bamboo bed after a poetry session,
A group of light like the glory of God on Shakespeare
Poked its dove-tailed fingers into my eyes,
Getting off the bed to see what it was from the horizon,
The moon, like the rich face of God, looked straight at me.
My mix of mind with the moon marveled the viewing trees.
Some threw down fruits to me in joy.
The coastal fishes were joyous to this locus :
The breams, the brills, the tilapia …. Bonga!
And a tilapia in joy leapt ashore.
The moon beams on her wet skin smiled.
The off-shore said: “this representative is representative”.
A pelican drifted long-shore; a pigeon sang off shore.
But owls’ hoot and witches’ kpian kpian made me fear.
Honsbira
The Nuisance
Tiny fish for one thousand Naira! I laugh!
Things thrown back to creeks; like excrement!
In my home town where I use to live;
The name of the town is Ebrohimi.
She is full of fishes, not only ekimi.
You need no trap to catch your fish,
To get the ‘sand’ up to your wish,
Go straight to the shallow water, as women;
Stand astride your shaking canoe, as a man.
Women catch with hands, men, by shaking canoes.
You use your hooks; use no hooks, if in hurry.
Stretch your hands into a shallow hole,
Passing through the planks or poles, raised.
You catch a mud-skipper, if you are unlucky.
A snake before you has eaten them all, if you are lucky!
If there before you, don’t be scared; snakes don’t bite under water.
Their coarse skin jerks your hand into a newer hole.
The newer hole brings a richer catch.
Oh this truth lies my full life, lies my health.
My environment, I love it till death.
Honsbira
History
In those days, when my old dad did live here,
This land, for sure, to this rate, didn’t wear;
O’er river, people in near Orere
Spoke to those far away in Ogheye;
Without the need to cross this big water;
But today, the wide river will ever
Swell up in dunes and crests to chew the banks
And bank up our sand and mud in new banks!
He eats up our house, money and real lives;
With naught; not even our canoes he leaves!
We caught fish in those days, now are gone bye.
Today, we catch not enough fish to buy.
(Or shall we make a manger for Jesus?
These days meet with days of more census!)
We don’t get, reasons are too scientific:
We have learnt the laws, they are oceanic!
The wider the line, the more the means;
The costlier the means, the more our hope lost;
We are kings and chiefs of the Niger Delta;
We are kings and chiefs being led to Golgotha !
THE CURSE OF OIL
1
The curse of oil does blight our swampy land.
Like bubbling brawl of banal battles pours
The curse most sad and oily on our band.
Dentition of false teeth, a smile that bores,
Hangs long on oily tooth like plague that dooms,
Like sore filled heart; a nail stab to the brain.
How long shall we live by the pain that booms
In Deltan creeks, in heady pangs that drain?
Today we shall survive in alien ways,
Like de-winged birds, we shall learn to brave our
New paths on earthly soil on full fat days.
On Deltan soil things strange and new flower .
Must we continue to make our soils boil
Because of land rich, blessed and cursed, with oil?
2
I know not my dear son, don’t stain the soil
With gullies of raw pains mixed with sad hue.
Sore heads shall cry, and from cruel pains recoil.
Sad hearts shall bleed suffused in oily dew.
The oil of doom has rained sharp spears of death
Upon our land. Sharp arrows of sad woe
Pierce our most timid souls, and choke our breath.
Harsh fiend of want comes breathing his craft slow.
Sad hearts don’t cast a long life time of stress.
Sweet happy days shall crown the oily creeks
With diadems of most joyous crowns and dress
Her in majestic smiles, with plum full cheeks.
Our feet march to the hut of happy days,
Where heads of wit will our dazed brains amaze
3
They stand forlorn with heads in total daze.
They stand removed from days full fat and plum.
Confronting minds in angry styles and ways,
Some ghostly trees laugh like one soused with rum.
Hear them: “we shall recede from here with curse.
Oil doom shall bore your land with scourging nails.
Its brutal sprigs shall drain boon from your purse
And cast your hearts and land in bitter wails.”
What shall be done to cure this crazy wind:
When ghostly mangroves place a curse on us?
Will benediction of oil blot the bind,
The binds that blot our lives, the evil fuss
Of oil on sad sure days like most cruel stone,
Like rocks of death in all their evil throne?
4
The artist creates his work from nature’s own.
Receding phantom trees cause fear to hearts,
Removed from nature’s own, from its fat loan.
With pencils, brushes from prime heaven’s marts,
We must breathe life again to nature bare.
We must recreate receding life anew.
How then do we create life in fashion rare,
Removed from the sweet flakes of heaven’s dew?
So Tony Afejuku comes with love:
In his right hand are brushes of fine skill
Blessed with full art with signs from high above.
Like homing eagle with most fervent will,
He wears the Deltan creeks with robust gown
With his skilled brush, he blots her ugly frown!
St Ifa
SWASHES AND BACKWASHES
Hot white swashes and cold mud backwashes
Coming and going these so many times,
Off-springs of soft furrows and high brushes,
Formed gutters and dunes in uneven rhymes,
Your care of and lack of it, for, the place,
Contract and expand me like an earth worm.
Children fell you are all out, to work woe,
Their frantic cry to woe; Iya, Iya’.
Crediting them right, shows you are a foe,
But swash and backwash, were you a slayer,
Those sardines in thee, dinning in a race,
Were hauled ashore –erratic on earth worm”,.
I can wade through the desert without hay.
Dash through the jungle as slave raiders did;
Morocco did so to invade Songhay.
Running slaves through the desert I studied,
I dare bears and deer; waves, grave, I cant’ face.
Winds grind grains, blow sails and give motion a from ,
Winds are good, unlike swashes and back washes,
Coming and going these so many times!
Honsbira
Chapter thirteen
Peace and Development
The Role of Zain
1
Great sleep is silence,
Greatness at times is patience;
Truth in all essence..
2
At this lone moment,
No time for development;
Heed to Zain comment.
3
Ships will soon increase,
There’s in no ship I can’t see;
Zain ,help me call, please.
4
Darling’s call at night,
Use less calls that are not prized;
Use Zain in the right.
5
Thunder claps at night,
But my darling’s call in spite;
Beloved, use your Zain.
6
though there are moon nights,
Beaming in my mind aright;
This Zain is my might
7
It’s no time to fight,
Human ideas are not clear;
So hold your Zain here
8
Is the world ending?
The start of the world is new;
Only with clear Zain.
9
in the world starting ?
The end of the world jumps far;
Zain is hereafter.
10
Through the daily skeins,
Zain progress brush through our skins
To grow fresh and cleanse.
11
The rains beat at night,
The teeth of cold on us bite;
Zain’s calls make me right.
12
Termites do not build ,
They build their hills o’er the years;
And take Zain’s call there.
13.
The income of sin,
To rich thieves in days of pains ;
Zain pays theme with pins .
14.
You come and go Zain,
Going now ito my eardrum;
Reggae beat to storm.
15
. You come, I repeat,
Going out on season’s pit;
My heart does not beat.
16.
The divine secret ,
Is no longer too discrete;
Today, with your Zain.
17.
I know why we grow,
It’s because today we are low;
From our Zain we glow.
18.
I’ll tell why you cry,
The moon’s low tones do not die;
But we and Zain lie.
19.
The sailing morn’s moon
Smiles to the kissing moon night,
Will think on Zain soon.
20.
With the hands so fair ,
I grip hard the years at fare;
Zain and I a pair.
21.
Flames of flower silence
Will lick my bell tomorrow.
Shoot your Zain arrow!
22
my sour method love ,
Injects me with sugared lore
On Zains wings I fly
23.
Her blue moving hips
By night rams cheeringly locked,
Are by Zain unlocked.
24.
Injure our clanship,
Delete the day of hardship;
But we call Zainship
.
25.
At the break of day,
But not the at the brush of morn;
And-------Zain, are these same.
26.
When no rams splatters,
Of the familiar campus;
Greet like Zain at noon.
27.
The unknown surplus
From the familiar campus
Greet like Zain at noon.
28.
I withdraw my ball;
For I try and try and try;
On Zain’s spring I play.
29.
Unlocked love intrudes,
In hours when the rude protrudes;
All love Zain includes.
30.
Books of Algebra
In full exam penumbra
Tamed by Zain’s umbra.
31.
You , great Zain, rule all,
Down all mornings it evens
Ideas rule the world.
32.
The polar bear sings
“Tonight all bears lay frozen…”
But if Zain still reigns!
33.
The writs of Zain line ,
Gazelle-like, kiss my young pine ;
In the morn at nine.
34.
We can dance tonight ,
To sorrow of Zain’s late bright,
For our life to light.
35.
Let me call no men
Oh ladies and gentlemen,
Zain’s dusk you not dull.
36. The wicked plans ills,
The morning of his glowed life;
But him mind Zain fills.
37.
We are city men,
But the bush men are bush men,
Zain with time links them.
38.
Come gnomic thinking,
Last dusk our thoughts were shrinking ;
Zain, I am singing.
39.
But my son , hear me.
But today, few sons will lend full ears.
Hear tales of Zain come.
40.
The holy presence
Of The modern tele line
Of Zain greet my spine
41
. Night, I wake my wife,
From her beloved sleep and deep;
With Zain’s beloved sip
42.
Zain does tell me tales,
(And this news must ring with time)
And gbangan gbangan and rails.
43.
We are charging now;
We have been constant for years;
Zain kisses our ears.
44.
What hour sweet is this?
The sour moments kiss the past;
Zain with us shall last.
45.
Sunday! Oh my church!
Friday! Oh my holy mosque;
Touch, holy Zain ,touch
46.
This maid of orders,
The useless calls disorders,
Zain, kick the others.
47.
Where are you, money?
Greet my life in morning;
With Zain, no moaning.
48.
These days I can laugh;
Time past, I could not , with cough,
Zain doughs me to puff.
49.
Men’s evils at death ,
Lives after death and later;
Zain lives on and lives.
50.
Holy insurance,
Is no time for Zain to work,
Mounted assurance..
51.
Today’s assurance
Is, in truth, no insurance;
Zain has the clearance.
52.
Zain and zoom I note,
This is no day of creed to quote,
Poor growth rates Zain smote.
53.
Zain is the tower,
But this year all is over;
But, yes, but for Zain.
54
our off land riggers
Cut in time from land true link,
Through Zain link the land.
55.
Our hinterland men,
Decades cut from physic link
Pray as one: ”amen”
56.
Thunder speed, is Zain;
Niger Delta, slow in main;
Zain more years will reign.
57.
I like to dash through,
Tell all to be through and through,
All days Zain is true.
58.
No time can say why,
Year and year we all still cry,
Zain will make us fly.
59.
I shall dash through dev,
In the old morn of no growth;
Zain is our growth rev.
60.
Now, the world is gone,
Our only hope thrives in gun;
Call Zain, do not run.
61.
Unemployment eh,
Shame you this day foe to face?
You are by Zain being traced!
62.
Oh development?
Oh where is your implement,
Zain time compliment?
63.
Do not be awesome
In time that life is whoresome
Zain is not tiresome.
64
I woke up with pyre
I dreamt I saw eyes unseen
Zain, is the night clean?
65
. Zain is the shark’s teeth,
It will cut the pike in bit;
Now and ever more.
66
Tree trunk seen by day,
Need no lantern by full night;
Zain, is that not right?
67
Hunger all right blast
O’erfeeding all right don’t last;
It tells like Zain mast
68
Mix the mind all day,
Hunters gun thinks not like him;
Net fish and its fin .
69
. Exchange smile each day,
A fact between the sexes;
Call through Zain, I say.
70.
Now, are on the palm -
Lice being sought inside the hair
Our Zain is in air.
71
Finger nails don’t hung;
Yesterday, today all long;
All Zain calls go long.
72
. Who you’re mind not,
In hours of sincerity,
Oh, Zain reality!
73
Lies told ,Zain is fear.
All days we hear from afar
Our thoughts Zains transfer
74
. The caps for the head n -
Morn or night not for the knee;
Zain’s head takes the lead.
75
. Zain’s a growth seed
Day or night, will not perish
She grows green meadow.
76
It’s the desired line
Coming today to do fine
It’s a desired mine.
77
. Do me no undo ;
That forever, do not do
Zain hates foul ado.
78
Zain is fill like map -
There is no one good enough -
To fill the time gap.
79
She is like the gate,
Day to day sees in and out -
Zain, I talk about.
80
Last year we were loud,
And not at all in cloud;
As Zain spoke aloud
81.
There is actuality
In days of just one com line
Of virility.
81
I love all things stoic,
Burn ills with acid frolic;
All times Zain, civic
82
. Zain is Mirabeau,
Strong and bold in hours of view;
But not caribou
83
My growth claims are due,
In lowness’ hopes fall in dew;
The Zain year in view.
84
Isolation’s bad,
Zain operates like time cabal;
Though, don’t play bad card.
85
. E’en in time of fog,
When lines are weak like bedbug
Zain operates like log
86
All must stay here , oh
Not all of all at ago,
Some with Zain will go.
87
. Zain in ambush lay
We do right as we do play---
To trap anti-play.
88
This day is God-sealed,
To keep us safe in God’s bid;
God - through Zain - indeed.
89
. Where is my Zain, where?
For today we feed on links;
With Zain do not fear.
90
. This is my true ware
To grip to self do not dare;
Zain to all is bare.
91
Some shine without work,
All days not t like glow that glows;
Or like Zain that crows
92
Where I weave my mat,
I do nothing without zain;
A crest without stain.
93
The human white teeth
By me not made, but nature
Are in Zain days fit.
94
Each town must be good
When each and each’s in good mood
Zain will mould and brood.
95
Zain line must pierce far.
Who says so they should not go?
When will it be so?
96
. “Where are you today?”
“I will stay away all day
And Zain, in my hand”
97
. I am full free, guys.
E’en in custody all years,
Zain line with me lies.
98
Zain is my bed.
The useless heads take kernel
In hours of bead need.
99.
All’s by the head led
At morn all pray to the head;
With prayers the heads lead.
100
We are all happy;
Today, all is not so well;
Some have not got Zain.
102
. Cowry’s not for all,
All the time they are for priests;
Zain is all for all.
103
. Pick my call and call,
This day’s not the hitherto;
World Zain, roll the ball.
104
Girls want to look fine,
These days not all souls are right;
Use Zain and be mine.
105
Good heads move with moon;
Good heads not know to the head;
Zain line is ahead.
106
We will look stupid;
On the day we will lose our Zain;
life’ll be insipid
107
All day I’m reading,
And morning and evening;
With Zain all leading.
108
Deep in darkness thoughts
the world is thought not tout
what is there, but buts?
109
The isles of the Ganges,
Faces waves without changes;
Zain time enlarges.
110
.Zain’s a Galingale
At right she’s a nightingale ,
She rules seas like whale.
111
In tears once again.
The morrow is the day main;,
My joy tears in Zain.
112
Communicated!
Though new you are unwanted;
You are connected.
113
. They’re disappointed,
The year they felt we would die,
Zain me protected.
114
Zain serve me two told;
Day on day, she is my stronghold;
She is a sheep hold
115
Loves own certainty
In time no reality
Is bull oddity.
116
. In the later time,
Considered from the present,
Your Zain will present
117
This’s my time of zest,
No time in life is the best;
This time let Zain text.
118
The night is single,
To both of us and double;
Zain song is able.
119
Trace me in the yard,
In all minutes, soft or hard,
This Zain is my card.
120
Dying? I won’t die!
All time, I will try, try and try;
Zain users don’t cry
121
In a single night ,
Your music is not all right,
Fly it like a kite.
122
Full of now is joy!
Tomorrow and tomorrow:
Zain us will burrow.
123
All eyes are on you
Every time you use your Zain,
The crest with out stain.
124
Waters are not pure;
Waters from the morning hill;
Zain gives dew water.
125
In time’s canopy
Play together like puppy,
Zains hummings copy
126
. Zain’s caress, full blue;
Days of death of hate is due ;
Zain network in view!
127
Ohio is not round
When in round world it locates
To be round, its bound.
128
. Headless needless eyes,
My poor Zain line is not poor;
Her mins are too less
129.
Peace, are you ashamed?
Today, we caught you by name;
Your escape Zain tame.
130
God’s inspected work
In time of fair inspection
Waits on Zain action.
131
God’s recorded marks
In com. network time
Wait for Zain who marks
132
. The lion and the bear
At midnight each one does fear
At schnapps does with beer.
133
. You c all the audience
Are the audience does you call
Zain time is the essence,
134
Zains rays real is the
Electromagnetic rays
All valued all days.
135
In the time of joy
Angry low ones will employ
Music like u-Roy
Chapter fourteen
Integrated Haiku
for Peace And Development
1
Bowing to no norm
Niger Delta, I do bow,
Bowing to my home.
2
Sweet Delta, boni
At dawn you look tigh, but low,
Day’s thick; night, tiny.
3
Live big like the rig;
There’s no time to live big;
Zain’s no barren fig.
4
Yes, the night is long;
Yes, we are now near to home;
Zain and near are one.
5
In bright hours twenty;
Dull hours greet our entity;
This is oddity.
6
a year like these glows;
Here each being weak, each then bows;
But Zain smiles and crows.
7
You’ve come soon, sweet love;
None will come as late as you;
Much love makes you move.
8
This season, my dear,
Ceases season, not seizing;
Is this unison?
9
This is Delta time.
This coastal is a strange land;
We are all a band.
10
Must I live to weep?
…or laugh to the union poor?
“Poor” breeds’ goods to reap!
11
Do I have to weep?
Smelling the butt of high worth ?
From tears comes good fort.
12
Wither to, Delta?
It is now your stable life;
Go no where, Delta.
13
My heart does lament
In the noon of good intent;
Zain knows this extent
14
This heart rejoices;
In moonlight in the Delta ;
Tom Polo rises.
15
Reciprocity;
Inconsequentiality;
Seasonality.
16
At this hour, we run,
Hot militants behind us;
We grow sound in gun.
17
Position of love;
In the sob darkness mid night
Is not for the dove.
18
When the rains do fall;
In the dry time of dewfall;
We still roll the ball.
19
Every Wednesday,
Because God shows not each day,
We seek none, no day.
20
Welling Okrika
Of the wettest rainy clime
Makes warmth eureka.
21
They teach me to know;
When to Sunday school I go;
How anti-Christ grow.
22
I must go through Christ;
St Ifa thought me at last;
Time is running fast.
23
To know the Delta;
Especially in the morn;
We keep watch from noon.
24
The very first time
Think of the Niger Delta;
And tight well in rhyme.
25
Our land, wet in oil;
On this day in sore dryhood;
Flows in a richhood:
26
At meal time we laugh;
Our own food makes us to cough;
For fish we take loaf.
27
At ball time, we smile;
Okocha makes us smile bold;
He scores us new mile.
28
Poems are good at night;
They make lovers weep and light;
When we off the light.
29
Poets are bad at noon;
They make lovers seep some smiles;
For they wet too soon.
30
We are men of Pope;
Placed in place for the long hope;
Attached to love’s rope.
31
I dance to night tones;
But our love is in day tunes;
Days and nights are in cones.
32
Where are you, children?
This time, so much is olden;
In a town modern;
33
Maize in fruits at dawn
Turn to fruits that will grow soon;
Eat your food by morn.
34
This is my true year;
We must cry for we fear;
True year, fears end here.
35
Must we our land fear;
On whale’s back and oil to stare?
You tear you oil there.
36
Oloibiri night,
Lights up the broken might,
And facing the knight.
37
That day they assail
In the night of our journey;
For fresh day we wail.
38
Condition bitter,
In winter and in summer,
Talls to be sweeter.
39
I look here and blind;
At all these ones who are too kind;
At all I don’t mind.
40
Two decades I tell;
But there was no one at all;
Boyi rang our bell.
41
The cashew is sour;
When taken every new hour;
Its taste is purer
42
Niger Delta birds,
In the deepest darkest night,
Shoot off songs like buds.
43
One thing here inheres;
In March when there are no wares;
You reap through the years.
44
Niger Delta Queen,
In the raw and wet cold morn,
Raw contests do win.
45
In the day coldest
The warm music tune of Smooth
Makes us the warmest.
46
This land, sweetly fair
Must be by now so unfair.
Dear’s foul, foul is dear.
47
The Delta rivers,
Afloat to brim at this hour,
Lies low for ever.
48
We will be traveling;
But to be here tomorrow;
But then, traveling.
49
Some men without might,
Passing hardly through hard night,
Look, then, like true knight.
50
Niger Delta men,
At times taken for too mean,
Keep power min. on min.
51
Eagles of the west,
Flying only in the day,
Cleans their beaks at night.
52
Some days, hot and long,
Unleash warmth on the cold day;
In streams of sweet song.
53
Confront me no more;
In time of sorrow don’t snore;
We need fight the more.
54
Nine p.m. Last Mon.,
The sun was bright to a fault;
NEPA light, in tact.
55
In the hour of death,
You shall live, Niger Delta;
Life, spanned, tier on tier.
56
In the springs of life,
Sweet Niger Delta, dying,
Springs up, life resumes.
57
Jingle, morning bell;
In deep night about us tell;
Quiet in the life dell.
58
Double trouble ones:
Take care of the weak and calm -
The whole clan at once.
59
To Islam give all;
Ah! We heed no further call!
In days of blue ball.
60
Ladies, cold in love;
In the coldest rainy night;
Let gripped to high dove.
61
One morning, last year,
We were all at home from work;
For we did no work.
62
Thunder flash at dawn;
The tender orphan’s presence
Hardens the lion’s sense.
63
The Deltan moon yore;
In the early midnight lore
Foretells daylight chore.
64
There’s no expiry;
Oil ends at Oloibiri;
A World Without end.
65
In the morning time,
Fresh blowers drop off the petals;
In brightest flower fine.
66
In the eventide,
All canoes are in full wreck;
In full Niger tide.
67
In the un- strange night
The strange ones meet here to figh,
In a world of might.
68
Niger Delta eyne,
Fight our sons in dewed morning;
And on oil back dine.
69
In the even dew,
As doves-pigeons are in view,
The Lord’s Day is due.
70
In the day at noon,
You can also see the moon,
As if it’s in boon
71
Marks of awe at night,
Travels on the way to love,
When roads are most right.
72
Flash of life at noon;
Deltans are on the way to war;
Our roads are not prone.
73
Turning bitter round,
I hear sweet voice ten p. M;
To bed I am bound.
74
At night in the rains
Delta fire light up my soul,
Erect like a pole.
75
Weakness we delay;
And looking out for our right;
And strength to relay.
76
In the time of walk,
As sweet weaver birds do work,
We look, to earth, stuck.
77
One will not, now die
Of neocolonialism;
But play at the die.
78
Poor a year after,
Richly dewed in hundred days,
Richly carved Delta.
79
Fresh light this day shows;
In a mist I do not know;
The misrule is low.
80
The tide greets the morn,
They kiss the early morn’s mourn -
Mourn for the lost corn.
81
Place noon industries,
On the morn agriculture;
Watch growth in series.
82
Change agriculture
With industrialization;
Next noon, growths rupture.
83
The tide of evens
Reminds one of far heavens;
They are in sevens.
84
Twinkle, twinkle moon;
The night rains will come, and soon;
To green the whole zone.
85
E’ en in custody;
It’s free time in Lombardy;
Look like Cassidy.
86
Look like Cassidy;
Not higgedly pigliddy
At noon, like Eddy.
87
True Delta’s greedy
In bid to save the needy;
In this year really.
88
When the morning comes;
Things at dusk the mouth will name;
Then you are gladsome.
88
In moms, like Eddy,
Be up to help the needy;
For one day only.
89
We are gladsome;
But now we are not handsome;
At fat we are some .
90
Pray for help from high;
Field on the rich cake and rye;
But pray, day by day.
91
But pray bye and bye;
Prayers alone will not try;
But pray, do not cry.
92
Do pray do not shy;
Don’t pour off your salt to dry;
This day of De Bry
93
It’s time to decry;
When no one shall ask you why;
Just say “God lives bye”.
94
In deals with daddy;
In harsh time of malady;
Keep your soul ready.
95
Keep my soul ready?
For today’s leap so hardly?
Be in your study.
96
The morrow is now;
So, all should be set today;
It’s today we know.
97
In time of real woe,
Hot heads are the best of them;
They spill blood of foe.
98
In May, in real peace;
Mild men cannot keep the bliss;
Fight and bring real kiss.
99
Can it ever be?
But at noon, we like to see;
What is thee is thee.
100
Contents of this year,
Will be off loaded in next;
Now, run to your nest.
101
In the rain as high;
When on high thirst we do lie;
wet comes from the sky.
102
This year the sharp spear
Would fear the fishes to pierce;
For we are with them.
103
The landed property,
In those days of no party;
Was of no duty
104
In the long old days
When stumped ownership stood tall;
Long and short were all.
105
Our men of the soil;
So unidirectional;
Differently kiss oil.
106
Gripping in two forms;
But mono directional,
We pursue oil norns.
107
This place, fair, but foul;
Is at dawn, too foul, but fair.
Contraries are rare.
.
Appendix
In Honour of the Metaphysical Poets
The Far Removed(Exploring Insanity)
1
They light the torch to find the moon at noon.
Like hungry eagles that browse the bare wind,
In search of prizely prey, they pry from hind,
And van rare peace that dwells with the prinkt moon.
Their hungry souls search peace that might come soon.
As Shylock lords that grab in cash and kind,
Their stealth peace search does bore their sickly mind
Like sickly owls their souls tune their sad croon.
The trees sure dance when winds tune our souls drum.
Sweet nature sits( a king in our prime land).
Peace comes to us like droughts of frothy wine,
Like foams of seamless vine of prime rich rum.
Why search for peace in brooks of alien land,
While vantage peace breathes full in trees of vine?
2
Fresh water is their bore and soulful teen.
Flies on a fest’ring wood, they search its sign –
This cooling deal on throats of aves and kine.
Why can’t the tunnies of search calm their mean
Ungentle throats with eau from voidless green?
Bacterial fears are books for mean design.
They fear to drink the liquid of rich wine,
Hence, they go parched and groan in portions lean.
Long have we known that waters of full life
Are got from nature’s bounty and full breast.
Nor viri nor bacteria with strange mien
Or fleeting flaw can count their brains full rife.
Lion bold! We jolly in our soul’s full fest
Untouched by sun that casts her westward ken.
3
With rants and aches they chant their gruesome cant,
As broiling hearts lead them to savage broils,
To bow-like fears to aching shouts and toils
Why groan they faint in endless sigh and rant?
He lies unmoved, untouched by mournful chants,
Of febrile souls with not a name to soil,
With not a care to give in time’s dread foil.
In files they wail like many a grieved ant.
When death strikes its sweet blows, we tame its dirk.
When she strikes its sweet blows we grin and laugh.
We jolly well at its sweet kindly mien.
Like most obedient dog its blows don’t irk
Our little strands of hair: the smooth or rough.
All must surely die: the wily beasts and men.
4
With ease the fiery pangs of febrile flush
Greet their sad eyne. Their blush I can’t assay.
Heads dazed with boredom with ire of spent hay,
Like churls and groundlings soaked in want’s cruel brush.
I can descry their orbs of brine : its gush
In tiny droplets like mint gold at play.
With beauteous rays full bloomed like buds of May.
Sad tears of death will not their sorrows crush.
The barmy headed ones fear its aweet hand.
Its saintly foils level the grass and sedge.
Its benign dirks do discommode the line
Of gruesome chasm betwixt the sky and land,
Betwixt the sane and those at life’s sad verge.
5
They stare at open space with bottled eyne.
With glassy mood stare they like seamless sky,
That throws exhuding shine to lands both high
And low, to land of beauty bare, or fine,
Where rare emotions sing with love divine.
Yet sights from glassy mien tame not the eye
Of soul that reads all moods of glassy lie.
From stonelike minds in search of false design.
Our bare eyne feed on succous dew of earth.
Our blind have souls botched with the pearl of light
On swart night skin of Ethiope’s benign smile,
Which sieves the joy in life from life’s raw mirth.
When age comes with flakes of grandiose night.
We shun their bottled eyne and loony wile.
St Ifa
The Nature of Death
Introductory
The nature of death; what is the nature of death?
The colour of death; what is the colour of death?
The odour of death; what is the odour of death?
The texture of death; what is the texture of death?
The shape of death; all these are the shape of dearth!
Honsbira
1
Death Shall Die
I have strategised, like Napo Naparte
Resolute, and indeed, never to part.
To trace the stronghold and refuge of death,
And deal death death-blow to rob him of health.
My thin wire shall slant with the ‘Manjaro
And there to peep up like the Kangaroo,
Sip bitter energy from the ether,
And sweet resistance from the Lord’s altar;
Watch with steady eyes like towering eagle,
Catch death, weak, soft, like Cassio by Iago.
We own the power to the wire, back, back home.
There ancient hot power resides, at least some.
Home of the ancient – some of these, Nana.
Weak death is hardly hard; and now, now,
I’ll switch on the switch, of the fiery current
Up above ‘Manjaro to trap , to rent,
In his journeys in search of man, this bat.
From point to point of the four points I dart –
It’ll kill him , this connectivity.
It’ll push him to his nativity.
Honsbira
2
The Colour of Death
In truth , death smells; but what is its colour?
This or that? What’s the colour, not odour?
Black ? all others arranged? It cant be white;
It cant be block, for black is always right.
Doctors keep awake at night, death to catch;
And ish, aish, ish, aash, doctor! Oh! They shout,
Calling so for help they, too don’t know, no doubt.
When morning comes pigeons wake up singing.
At night, the owl will say hwhoo, praising.
I asked Day what the colour of death is;
I asked night what the colour of death is.
Oh day, green, and tinted with brown like yours?
Oh night, “is it brown with black eyes like yours?”
No answer, and pastor “What do you think?”
Pastor said: “I don’t know who quests will sink.
In the mosque, Mallams stare and they holler:
We conjure; we won’t construct, Allah”.
Of what colour is death, in our cord?
Nor black nor white: Death is the breath of God.
Honsbira
3
The Odour Of Death
You know the odour of death. Does it smell?
Why do we fail so low death to quell?
Away from shapes, hunt dogs through the odour,
I have moved to catch games, not through the colour,
Beside shpe or colour odour is real.
I don’t know what you and others feel ;
Do you remember the day Adam died ?
Unfamiliar odour came as if cried!
He waited for death; it came unheralded.
Death’s odour and Adam’s fate coincided.
Death is mixture of odor that’ll not fuse;
A mixture of gases which do not fuse,
Each has its weight its pressure and its smell.
It’s so in mixtures, no matter how small.
No: death has odour in shape with ailment.
No: death has odour put forh by its ointment.
As Deaths’ odour comes in , children will cry:
“Mummy, Mummy ,oh Mummy: you will die?”
The killer of death passed through Bethany,
Crying “Eli …lama sabachtani”.
Honsbira
4
The shape of death
A far note was sent to me by Plato.
This, my very open eyes have read well
Days pre-letter, this shape no one could tell,
The sanctified text sent by Lord Santo .
It hardened me to speak of shape of death.
Is it sharp, long and so, like an arrow?
Shining like earthworms tapering to burrow?
Here and there, it rolls to, and from, the earth.
Is it sharp, long and flattened, like the sheathe?
Is death round and so, rolling like time ball?
That is, rolling and bouncing to all places,
To tie legs and rope necks, like laces?
Deaths jump in well and push all to the wall;
Dare to rack and crack and then, to fall.
Like a car careening the lanes of the road,
Death’s shape is a million side polygon –
Its leaches and affects millions that are gone.
It’s a meander in creeks and streams like blood,
With eyes too bulging , but points , like rod .
Honsbira
The Feeling of The Insane
All land belongs to us who must march it;
He who counterclaims will his part forfeit.
It’s who own the land who march it much time,
Any day, anyway and any clime.
They say they own the land, can they prove how?
We walk at night; at night, they run like crow.
Ah! That proves them alright, they own the land.
Land on which all the time they can not stand.
We are mad, but yet can walk all the hour.
To the world view, can stand at the tower.
The sane are all ingrates, big ones at that.
Our night walk , a guiding spirit ,in fact.
Hard robbers see us and away they fly.
Armed robbers hard in whose arms they could die.
When their watchful dogs see us and so bark.
(Dogs yellow eyes pierce far into the dark)
They hear the whoa whoo and so runs! poor thieves!
Then , man will say “if” – many, many, “if’s”.
All lands belong to us who are insane.
We’ll cover it up as with lion’s mane.
2
I Pity Sanity
Not minding what they say, I pity them.
They see that we the simple are mad men.
Lord, what a hot hell of witchcraft is this!
As men in their angelry and in bliss
Roughen the place through rough sociologies,
Like fish which degrade their ecologies.
They mark us in pictures as derelicts
Which view with our pure nature contradicts.
Not only sane men, the world is not clean –
Hiding gecko knows not its tail is seen .
Their lying bliss has power to charm the sun;
They eat our corn , for into scorn they’re born.
Sane men see us and shake their heads low,
Invoking the gods to look as us, oh.
When pity on the head of pity mounts,
For as we pity men in their own count,
We pity men for their roles and their cares
Hominem miserum, oh I do fear.
Then it is error and counter error,
That is mild horror and counter horror
Some Time I Laugh
Sometimes I laugh which laugh they say is mad!
Most time I grow naked; this they call bad!
Most time I laugh; and it’s laughter indeed.
Sane men are abnormal intheir self bid.
They are hateful, crude, rude malicious bulls,
Feeling they rule the world, nature rules.
No bastard dogs ever eats god damned dogs,
Treading on thorns they see walk on rugs.
Relieved in fact like horses without reins;
Like rays of sun on Bobi after rains.
So much they see; but so little , really,
Love us not , but love the world dearly.
With the lame in their midst , they sing and laugh.
But do we laugh at the lame on them cough?
Sanity delights in spiting and scorning,
And so the rope of their long life burning!
Lord, help them out; this trend I must counter;
Men are mad; send them to the space outer;
Our worl must be free to us bye and bye.
When the low groans , who is left out to cry.
.
By
Niger Delta Literary Forum
For Peace And Development
UNITY SONNETS TO THE NIGER DELTA STATES
THE NIGER DELTA GOVERNORS
Authors
Honsbira(Eyebira Agharowu
St Ifa(Augustine Oritseweyinmi Oghanrandukun Olomu
Sponsored by
1. chapter one
Introductory
Invoking Shakespeare
Forgive me, Shakespeare, if I mangle your
Style with taints and flaws and use your love songs
For tales of fire for wretched and for poor.
Forgive, if your love songs are smired with warring gongs.
The Deltan skins are rucked with tales of blood.
The skins are botched with penury’s sad chains,
Full swollen like sad toucan’s skull- a flood
Of constant cries unending wails and pains.
Thank you, sweet Shakespeare, for your style and rhyme,
For budding rosy lines from nascent verse
Foor brewing vinous songs to cure our clime
For times of pain of woe and times adverse.
Now is time for the master’s voice of gold
To steer the Deltan minds from fear to bold.
St Ifa
Governor Sullivan Chime 1
Chime, we stood with pains beside the sleeping creeks.
Fierce fears sing tunes upon our hearts of woes.
Beside our fears we stood with shaking teeth
The Deltan creeks pierce us with spears of death.
Lean penury stood bold like most cruel pain
On shadows of our meretricious voes.
Our most rucked skins like tattered rags are tales
Of gruesome creeks upon our wasted lives.
Great chime comes to cure our pangs of dread,
His pure white teeth chase our most latent fears .
Beside the dream of dread, aside the pains
Of death, his smile stands bold, the cure profound
Of silent grief thet stand with pain upon
Our land molesting them with songs of joy.
St Ifa
SULLIVAN CHIME 2
Cursed by the nectar of the flower rose
Buds of sight by sunbeam on the dove
Caused to cry aloud in intertwined love
Fused with wire from the sacred heart above
Used in days when for last days we move
You won the race for the people
You are Jaja of Opobo.
Beliveve in God like the bee in the hive
Befriend to procure like the sun and the leaves
Bestride the road where good with evil co-lives
Behold, living things are nature’s wives
Beware of good like night the thieves
Do come down, good Allah
Do come, freedom, in Ben Bella.
Honsbira
Obong Godswill Akpabio 1
Their cries are balloons of girls’ hope
That floats like sweet virginity of youth.
Like childlike foam of youthful fantasy,
Mere bubbles of vain foam were pricked with thorns,
The thorns of woe pierce much our dreams of yore.
Our virgin hopes were pricked with spears of hope.
Our hymens ripped , speak tales of hidden want
That stabs the Deltan creeks with most cruel spears.
Virginity of yore shall sing with zest .
On happy days shall we stand with tall hope.
When melic songs shall float from our pure heads
When rapists’ rods are cut with valiant scythes
When deflowered creeks will sing with chants of joy,
God’s will will stand with Grace upon our creeks
St Ifa
Ø
Godwill Akpabio 2
Sinners oppressor, fighter of show-off carnal
Binder of the legs and palms of snake dimensional
Pincher of the race of Druid motivational
Cinder to anger that stands totalitarian
Kinder, I think, are your lease metropolitan
As you come in, free us,
As our focus leap on locus.
Balling every where, you’ll remake here
Calling to people and nations who don’t fear
Trawling the genii who make here rare
Falling into the temple where all’s sincere
Crawling toward him who with live ark cohere
We are comely, in aloneness
We have come to seriousness.
Honsbira
Governor Liyel Imoke
Our songs were dins upon our wasted creeks,
Like donkey’s doleful bray, they cry with blood
That drowns us with molesting tides and flood.
Sore jaundiced eye of creeks , lean pleasure seeks.
How can sour creeks peck grains with beauteous beaks
Like some strange birds that seek with zest the broad
And wide uncouth sere mud, that vile worms brood
Their lazy lives in ugly smells and reeks?
Imoke comes with songs of joy. And bold
Like day, his harps of love are songs of hope
No more shall we sing oily songs of death
Like some lorn swans in alien muds and cold.
No more shall we like some strange blind birds grope
In oily mud, nor swim in plenteous dearth.
St Ifa
Governor Liyel Imoke2
The conscience of nature is your agogo;
Delinked from crave for self at ago;
Derobed of the dress of greed, long a go;
Demurring, you bade good bye and grow;
Debased looters for good name cry “yo, oh, oh”.
Your touch on my nature,
Your life ovule yields culture
Culture of muse keeps me amused;
Odour of criss-cross in bric- a-brac abused;
Doctor of hope makes my full life well used;
Actors of life keep the place fused;
Decoeur, keep off by Lugard confused.
It’s no life in danger
It’s where Imoke is the changer
Honsbira
Doctor Emmanuel Uduaghan1
Strange wars cry bold in rivers of grim pain.
The creeks of peace were plied by hearts of rock.
Cruel stony hearts chained our sore souls with lock.
Raw ire steered creeks with horse’s wicked rein.
We wore strange fears in necks like lions grim mane.
Our lazy creeks were war grounds of ill-luck,
Vexed with most angry vests with rags that ruck.
Our oily creeks were roused with wars insane.
Sir Emma comes to cleans the creeks of blood,
His genial smiles light our sweet souls with life;
His jovial mien is songs of hope to us,
A magic wand, his fan blows the cruel flood,
With sweet cool breeze that cures the creeks of strife.
Our creeks shall know no angst or wailing loss!
St Ifa
Doctor Emmanuel Uduaghan 2
Together, the earth and heaven will meet;
Deliver, the lord’s partner in a fleet;
Danger lurks like flies in the sugar beet;
Maneouvre this formula to reggae beat;
Saver of the sun, your yore the sun has lit.
This is pure like your mind.
Kiss me Emma, you’re kind.
Caught in the net of the sweet honey bee;
Fought ills to stand bye and honourably;
Cut in twain by faith in God of gods, who be;
Fort of truth like Keats keeps me like the obi
May our kola keep us bold;
Day and night to make us gold.
Honsbira
Timipre Sylva 1
Appearance can mislead like glass of shame
Upon slow pictures false of hidden fame.
Appearance can mislead like cloud of lies
Upon green crazy smiles of fitful wries.
Appearance can mislead like tales of woe
Upon cruel apish grins of gruesome foes.
Appearance can mislead like joy of pain
Upon cruel rosy thorns of flowery reign.
Like silver linings from clouds of dim night,
Your shiny smiles blight light with radiant light.
Upon the rivers of death’s eau you smiled,
Your sweet dentition lulls the creeks that cried.
May your bold Sylvan peace upon our creeks
Make our pale face smile bold with plumpy cheeks.
St Ifa
Timipre Sylva 2
Stable are you to the whirligig of rig,
Able and manifest silver, unusually big;
Cable antidisinterst form to dig;
Staple foods of life enrich dermis of Indian pig;
Apple in flowers and fruits, not the fig.
Name these names in times to be!
Che sara sara- what’ll be will be
Aware are you of the sign of things dim;
Around the growth of science on art keen;
Abide with the hard work of never to end fin;
Abused like Jesus at palm and foot without sin;
Appear twice like the Biu to be seen.
Fame of God, when shall I be?
St Ifa
Comrade Oshiomhole Adams 1
The bloody face of oil came with great ire
That set our land on fire, our souls on shame.
Oil’s bloody face gave us a most strange name
“Leave relics of past age to strange desire;
Burn out the passions pure on useless pyre”.
Our forest lands were raped of finest game.
Our garden lands prostrate like helpless dame.
Grim oil consumes our land with angry fire.
Our lean sour hearts were tamed by your glad face,
Unbinding pangs of hearts with songs of joy.
Our barren lands were tamed by works of grace,
That stops the oily fiend with evil ploy.
We spread our golden grace like satin lace
Unleashing peace to work with full employ.
St Ifa
Comrade Oshiomhole Adams2
Into the big hands we drop the quest;
Inside our store the basin stretched;
Ink pot to change our change to the best;
Inform the democrats now to rest;
In the time of U S A, Britain and the rest.
And to sing all the time;
And to drink the ancient wine.
Really the torrential hours of doom;
Rarely , won’t withstand the aura of boom;
Merrily posed against the faults in loom;
Early taking roots on the new sugared loam;
Hilly ones, teachered, pierced on wise dome,
All silly ones are wise;
All the lame will rise.
Honsbira
Imo State Governor
Sore angry tones were dins upon our land;
With martial wind they sing in evil clime,
Like tunes of death, Satan’s aching rheum,
Green oily songs tune jigs on slimy sand.
Poor oily dire , the jigs of ancient brand.
Our poorly souls were wrapped in oily slime
On hell’s cruel path with tunes that Lethewards climb.
With tunes of deaths in brand of evil grand,
You came with light to tame our song of night .
Angelic smiles beam from your face like lark
Of love that beams with joy and beauty bright.
Our stone-like fears from oily holes of dark,
Are lit by vibrant smiles of your soft might;
Are lit by smiles of love- your wondrous mark.
St Ifa
Governor Ikedi Ohakim
Wool of care on your hair coils like fresh dew;
Tool of rule you highlight in books not few;
Bull that gores will knock off blocks undue;
Lull of centuries of renewed life to rue;
Pull the chariots of Ramat full time in queue.
Some thoughts haunt some silence;
Norm of peace in all essence.
Bow you do so as to grow;
Low to the height who on God’s behalf crow;
Below your wise eyne, fast like crow;
Toe the good things of life and allow
Bello or Billy on the Geography show.
The wherefore lends credence;
The therefore shows difference.
Honsbira
Governor Agagu 1
We live like pests upon the angry shore.
Green oily wars were plagues upon our bourns.
The foes did come with songs of oil and raw.
With ape-like dins, they groan in gruesome mourn.
What with cruel ploys they plant the trees of lies
Like raging giant of wicked odious seeds.
Plots thickened red – malicious woes and sighs;
Decoying souls like chicks with maizelike beads.
Sweet rains of love upon our hearts of yore,
Are your rhyme tales to tame our souls with love.
Sweet love exudes like happy songs from your
Cool mien- a cool look that good things approve.
Who can stop the man with the brazen sword,
Who can stop heaven’s decree
wide and broad?
St Ifa
Governor Agagu 2
Sick ones are whole in the fold of your rays;
Pick any by the die who for this prays;
kick off greed creed castle these same days;
Dick and Harry hurry to thing which pays;
Tick us in the book of law of grace.
I’ll say more in time anear
I’ve stayed long enough to hear.
Bed of the altar of God, me don’t release!
Shed of the goldsmith of heaven, me do increase;
Red crown of poems of rude hue will decrease;
Fed up with riotous tendency, I apply for peace;
Bread heavier than lead, what are these?
We’ll with poems rule the world anew.
With Ondo ancient land in view .
Honsbira
Rivers state governor 1
With quest we walk upon the creeks of woe;
Molested much by evil tales of war.
Uncouth cruel crimes grew tall in shameful row.
How comes green songs of yore stand at the fore
Of creeks devising oily songs of death?
How comes plain plenteous plum smile bold at creeks
With genial dins of robust aching mirth?
Cruel penury drains much our oily cheeks.
When rains of joy descend on patchy land,
When dews of love tame soul with joyful song,
When beautous flower seed forth its comely brand
Of fruits and glad rhymes ring with heaven’s gong,
We shall with love sing full the songs of praise,
Approving much your work in glorious days.
St Ifa
Rivers state governor2
This is the hope of this clan in its true form;
These are the deep graves Jesus came out from;
Is this, then, the man who is to come?
Kiss one; and two; the clan will reform!
Please, be told, this news, you the world informs.
Niger delta speaks of ability;
Niger leaders boast of alacrity.
Fore or hind this is the banner till we die;
Your liver, hard like lion’s , chases them to fly;
Lore of cross-gain must hang bye;
Cure to kine of peace we’ll always try;
Yore or lore; fate or hate; some will cry
Of Niger Delta realism,
Of this true unism.
Honsbira
Conclusion
My Menorah of nine saints
My bright Menorah beams lore of nine saints.
Our candles bright, brush off our darkly pents.
Not even darkest Hades spell and curse
Can scarce accuse our souls with timid force.
Upon the oily paths we tread with care
Like birds of joy with not a care to spare.
When oily soots chase our sour minds from rest,
When olden cares pierce sore our will and zest,
Nine saints stand bold above our comely fears,
Unleashing fluids that wash our pains and tears.
When angry creeks were torn with smiling rage,
And muddy banks stare like arts on quiet page,
The nine great saints, brave masters of lost time,
Flash sweet angelic smile upon our clime.
St Ifa
Chapter two
Unity Sonnets to the Niger Delta Lands and States
Honsbira’s Songs of Love
to the Niger Delta
Abia
What shall we do to sustain your dreams?
To live, true, on suits girded to the road.
Your hands to flash happy rays and beams;
Not like Oyashiwo rays, a home of gods!
You can drought to be; can you drought in rains?
In droughts our spacey children play at night.
Roll on brown soil like brown builder’s cranes.
This aloneness, lone, on the night they bite.
When your rains wet, they do so round and round.
In this, there is dualism of nature.
For when the sun meets the rains, all is sound.
In tune with plurality of nature.
The Abia assonance of dry and wet
Informs, instructs, teaches: so, all is set.
Akwa Ibom
You make me long for true life of bliss
For there latitudes of holy ones here.
The olive you pluck in the hope of peace
We do pray for quiet here, year on year.
You tell the tale of the Niger Delta fine
Like the long shore drift and the ocean deep;
Like the cock that tells the life tale of time.
Akwa Ibom , your fruits won’t we all eat?
This home, young like baby bird on lime tree,
Self sustaining like the tree they use,
You take no drop through Mother bird to be free.
You procure for all, your lime juice.
When time grows old and lime juice turns milky,
Our baby flies up in joy singing ‘kin, ki’
Bayelsa
This hard box, my home, gummy, in long songs
Each day, each night, we make some strange songs and sing.
When, in all, I came home here at last long,
The navel of the dear mother to cling,
Without the milk sweet breast with which to fuse,
In dog joy to dog up to her as soft pet,
From east to west – from here – we cry in ruse.
There’re streams in place; we can’t bathe the back wet.
Mum, we’re back; as we bathe in your wet sun,
Thought closely still, in heed of this we feel
Like children, lonely, dragged to this nurse scion,
Mum, I dance, I sing, I see you as real!
So haunted. My Mum, oh Num, I do roam.
For like a heap of logic I come home.
Cross rivers
We will get what we want; what we want is:
Soft days on currents of the whispering creek.
How can we, be your teller of stories,
And how to drift with the fish, with head sleak?
The river orbs to smile to give us news;
Round the souls of salt brooks, well and erect.
The soul of the creeks to power our sinews.
Here only lazy ones frown – who elect.
Such time in the high drift of the rivers
We always watch the shape of our riches
At ease we lay to watch the bird weavers
In line with the long shore and the beaches.
In Cross River , at ease, in truth, we lay,
Like ancient cattle set for rye and hay.
Delta
Your beams of this life beat up my pure mind.
Hard men you bear asyour pseudopodia.
In minutes, in hours, I pray for your kind
In the rich page of encyclopaedia
Like kame in fame, in real name – not just a frame.
You undid chats of the chit chats un-named.
By words of mouth, these are some of the tame.
History mounts on history; yet it gets blamed.
In crises, in tears, in pains, we are long away;
Though we are blaming forces from the afar,
To us as one we think we’ve known the way
The only way our own fault shall offer
In the land of interstate Algebra,
We trade wit for wit like boas and cobras.
Edo state
Edo, done by old imperial machines,
From pains in the head and in myopia,
From low imperials curses in vaccines,
The low imperial, malice in their ria,
There is Benin , Niger Delta red cousin.
Did you go down to blameless dishonour?
Nana did witness that you knew no sin!
That you are no recipient, but a donor!
You pray this hard the truth will come one day.
From factory of FESTAC, the fact will burst.
We pray too hard: “let it all show”, we pray.
So, Benin market of History will cost.
The nation brags of you and you. Edo,
The world rings your rich bell in much ado.
Imo State
Are you a chaste town on a yamly sial ?
Oh Imo, cluster of the man-made wealth.
Are you a height of greens and a sun dial?
Oh Imo, inspired, my life I unsheathe.
Can I, in accord with your soft soul
Stand firm, moon-soft, stand tall, Rose as witness
Driven fast by current of life like sole?
Your Niger Deltaness stands in essence
It’s well, we’ll hold true to the Igueship,
This will do the geometry of peace fair
Oh god screw some hard nuts on our sonship
Of the rude anti Deltans you will not fear.
Blue Imo, green blue Imo I do move:
“ON THE FLOOD OF THE DELTA , YOU’RE A DOVE”
Ondo State
Like a beam of light through the morn you pierce
And cross rocks to Akure retina
And by now all these ones live in hot fears.
Then, in a steel lid box or container,
Let the rocks all be taken out of ‘Re.
Can Ondo stretch up her hands up to God?
With her with true peace, Ondo will cohere.
In the time of flood with Noah up on board.
This said, we say the other side, you know.
The fire of Mose lights up our sprite,
And the ship Columbus safe at Ohio ,
Take us where Bible-Koran we can site.
Please do me some fine deed, my state, God begs!
We’re lost sons, homing; please keep us like eggs.
Rivers
In tune with lines and fuses anti war,
Your hope is long; your rarities confirm
The much mode made in womb of wealth and ware.
Two rich nods to your worth is yet to affirm
The prayers of those pikes that bask in Deghele.
These prayers have not come; though they are gold.
With nature and the port you are cordiale.
You gods, oh you lords, keep us in this fold.
Where heaven shares her pride with humankind;
Here we are wise and can catch the turtle
In Rivers, in kiss with Nigeriankind;
Ah! We are as wise as Aristotle.
Our eyes are red, red with years and with dare;
Sweet nature knows this; to us she is bare.
Chapter six
The Reality of Peace in the Niger Delta: How Peace Will Come
(By Honsbira)
A . The Creed
This farm has fish, I will farm in this lake
It has no bitch, I will fish for fish sake
This clash does not include the white pike fish
But the bream and brills that are too rich
Here, not like thither, nature is too seal
Bream and brill’are safe for I have got no creel
As we trick all each and all, I have pains
I dare not look at them, my neck has sprains.
The Niger Delta,weat,gives all our need
Things nature placed, full and firm, give me need
A poetic range and plaint I have to cross
These create ripples which on water crises-cross
The mother, weak, provides necessities
The Delta mum works to extremities.
B
These over zealous rallies of low spree
As under valued valleys of low tree
Shall soon undo us as innocent being
As far removed we are from all higher thing
In this place where children, wise,old ones, fool,
Sob in place where we don’t get to the full
In this clan, where in much, we weep in none
Attacked by hard teeth of the wicked drone
Like pilgrims, hope lay in us, though we fail
Like orphans in few things, though we fail
Our wits are at rage, but when shall this de?
Since sweet fruit we secrete like the sweet bee,
The cold, the weak, the sick are all hopeless
Like tyrants over us long, too coreless
C
New men are up here the wounds to heal
You saw the plateanx?They methed to your feel
You’re a light,you pay your war bill
Who will tell the tale, the harsh scale on the ceil?
Woo or hute, owl in air, own in hell
Few, or none, including you’ll ring the bell
View the tangibles in air over the hill
Do you see? You can Bismarck place fill
Coup the dragon until his demon scales peel
Due to the law of knife and yam, jack and full
Dew of heaven grip our head, real
Due is due to and the too long time.
Blue olive bless you: you do not kill
Bin Playtex around you, an Hazard n’er ail
Knew you they rejoice and help the seal?
Cue the Host of Heaven in crest and keel
Hew us with love, how you will
Chew bitter pills with bitter ills to deal
Mien your cat at all who under deal
Glue the scions of lioness to freedom fill
Glue of boredom of long life melts the ceil
True, the people loins or coins will know no ill
Give land shall kiss men, to God both shall kneel
D
This meretricious music of sweet god
In poisonous beat of sweet taste in gourd
Like much sweet sugar harmful to the self
Are Israel self and her lone josephs self-
To sugar to gall, the first redeemer
Of Abraham Ease in dilemma
Poised and lanced they plan to dress us with louse,
And our life hid in the corner of our blouse,
What is life, if in the die it does lay?
What am I, if on my head the louse stays?
Yes, one should not with flies or like relate!
Yes, true, on safely rostrum I orate
Dressed in insurance, I’m out of the love,
Blessed assurance, I an above the wave.
E
The ceiling fan begins to spray off heat
No more can we the climate ever beat
The flower Rose shaft begins to grow true hat
The sins of the world will no more abate
The house wife looks at here true man and hiss
When failures at night keep her from true bliss,
Poor we! our Niger Delta does fight us
Ah me! on our ragged home we don’t foci
But this point which is our chance for new fame,
There are soft men; there are hard men of name.
From counts of no judge, we’re the far removed.
With all fill rights to full say un approved.
What, really, have we to fear-now on land,
What danger can’t we brush down and stand?
F
Bird weavers on hooks on trees over creek
Hang o’er head like a hanging valley,
Birds that weave on the tree tops up my head sleek
Weave better than the weaver, Odilli.
My skill, though nether nest, receives the drops,
As you mart on hooks over hanging me,
Like bombers shell on top the village drops,
My canoe has soap and sponge kept for me.
As you spray me sweet songs" Kie kill, ken kill"
Yet you treat me so, you too, are not whole,
Snakes below you hiss, hiss,hiss, bears.kian,kian!
One of them, a night before, a snake stole
Their conjugation with this head worn
Gives me thought you to catch, so I won
G
When shall the soft hour of hard labour show
Do not sit, do not eat, Delta work go
When shall the rude days of merry time end?
We shan’t dwell on the new, but this extend
\When shall we burst the space to the far moon
We shan’t sleep but shall work from noon to noon
When shall we work like giants, and not as toys?
When shall we as big boys, but not just boys?
When the big bell, truly yours, we shall ring!
Yes, when war songs, yours truly, we shall sing.
When the sense of all who hears shall say, "Ah"
When the tongue of who hears shall say ah ah"
-On the day when the thin wire from the gods,
The A Dc of our God, lights our chords.
H
The Niger Delta smiled, but now, dares not
To keep all safe in our home, we must singe
We gripped firm this Dan, but now we can not
The writer cries, but he is but a singe
When the salt water they spoilt, we are sick
Some cry, some laugh, and also, some wring to death
As a thing of truth, on our face they beak
Into our graves the dagger they unhealthy
What a joy to hear the songs of sages!
That time shall come our joy shall sing and high
Here or there, no, no, we are not pages.
We shall not peep our father’s nose to cry
I laugh, oh nature do my soul prepare
Pill to you and to myself be sincere
I
Some curious verbs haunt my holy gaze here
And envious things, high, but low, do dumb me
Some plenty nouns, sharp trap me pressed to fear
The onerous quality of life robs me
As candle of low flame shine on my face
But lo, alas, low illumination!
These candles light not me, but man’s race
And spherical my imagination!
Since even the field beast all do me applauds,
Birds and fish rise against the nouns and verbs,
The primates of St Peter’s Rees me land
I’m on head of woes and throes like the verbs.
As i think of this, I smile the air white,
As I stair and stole paint the greens wide.
J
When shall these pain filled days be away?
The people, so pressed, are in the Judah
Though ancient Egypt made okay
As warring roars in philistine and Dan
We’re seasoned power; bat shall all come out well?
In old days, we sang rang as true men
We don’t do well, though all look like gold bell
Now today, all is nothing, all is mean.
About me a new hope sings like the dove
Old hope crown in me like a lantern
Around me to sing to coo as true love
As leeches beaches are in fixed pattern
In an aha wide, we shall do these things
On rostrums as wide, we shall mounts as kings
K
This is the spaced cell where one is locked up
So we must for spilled old and gait weep
As though each and all is in nincompoop
The friend’s operations into us do seep
Must we in such big need smile to be safe?
We fall down; we fall down in rally low
The love for human, keep us in the cave
The tides are not for us, they are fast in flow
Time treats the heads and men to us relate
Now, I receive a letter of high note
All men are relations to the fortunate
So, I receive a letter, creed to quote
It’s contend go up and down my big frame
They build the up, yes, bearing a new name
L
Yet, something good is wrong here and now, now
Nor sense nor lore can come in and save us
Oh must we to this negative bow
You see How ghosts in trunks on us focus
The meanders in the creeks kill like the gun
In the problem breed of crooks of high slain
The poor, the weak scion death and they are gone
There are sweet turmoil thought by dupes on land
I,Sunny,call my men to be all here
I’ve know the agents real, whom my fears rent
Soon, they shall move to where the bad ones wear
Those whose ploy to more us we resent
We breathe thy creeks though lake and have langht them
In this,we pass yhroung chem..
M
The clap of the dove down the horizon
Suggests the glory off from here departs,
When on the greens of you, the lions grazing,
The order and the law needs some experts
In negation, in volition of ours,
The Niger Delta, croached on enough cries out
Her problems.flat,is hard like the tar’s
The people’s people, God own with loss needs clout.
Yet I do smile, I do laugh’s do clap,
Where warm fountain rush, no one shall thirst,
Thus, this head rejoices, as with schnapps,
And where we dry to death, they are the first.
These boys do grow like Adaka Boron,
Pluck the food, sing with the Odoro
N
The Delta,frosted, bigs to crisis pole,
By millipedes, who,too head-hot will kill who,
‘Who’,by centipedes, though lazy, do gambol?
They Marcy out of crevices to kill, ho!
They need nothing to hurt us, not the bar,
Gold black liquid flows from bottom to top,
When, too porous, we leave the door ajar
E’en up above, they laugh at us and clap.
‘Every good day is for the thiek,’’they say,
That day our hope of peace shall shoot it’s balls
‘The farmer has days, but only one day,
Scorched routes of evil, the does shall recall
Yes we are by the faults with in betrayed
We’ll sing like a fence for battle arrayed
O
Fair is foul, Niger Delta, air is foul
Foul is fair oh Delta clan, foul is fair
The fruit of hate’s planted by the foe
A little child is made to walk on fire.,
Old men are set one upon the other
In the Delta garden, some crop tangle,
The wise think poorer, the pools do rich
The shrub’s leaves, far from being green, get rumple
Our sorrow is hard, our fate is not clear!
Is it not for we stood akimbo for long?
We fight wars to shoot our sorrow dear,
The heads of sorrow to the hole belong
As we fight hard to shoot the malice all,
And roll the open build, the ills to fall
P
In estimation, I smile the air due
What shall I do when the clan no more’s blue?
In estimate, I praise the land ho
But how can I when the fact is not so
When we march the Niger Delta low verge
And deep in Yenagoa there to converge
Like Britons and the French on this bare land
Who did us in one do to land our land
The hot tire of our hold heart shows the ways
One day we will hold the keys to the quays,
The serpent of valour runs in my brains
The finish will be perfect with out stains
Some relish when they come in berate one
From coy to coy, from org to org, we warn.
Q
It seems man’s heads grow from graves, but walai
These heads, there much seasons before Christ, grow!
Kept in a shallow grave fallow to lie
Like Aba yams stored, always that will grow
When I think of the old deeds near tears
They care for us, and we for their names care
And this day and this min will haunt the fears
We’ve joyed you leave us the science of old bare
From Dodos to AWO,THERE ARE STRINGS
Strings of the Zain, unlike horses reins
These share relations with out ancient veins
Like G S M network, e.g., the Zain
Tie us Sekiri ,glued to the den
Here the brave, weak, wise and brave see no sin
But do guen on like pilgrims to judan, rhen
The land eaters shall get sunk as in dean
Here Rita smiles like the Empress Eugene
Orbs the palace the scepter is ring
In alliance with Moses Fregene
Who is no king, but who princes the king
God looks at our palm, too Rita-pure
Today, we dance along, shua shua
As a harsh disease takes a harsh care
Now, now we shall call back those in manta
Chapter seven
The Catechism of peace
The dove of peace descends upon our land
Like wool so dew . the dove of joy descends
Upon our land – on prettiest of fine sand.
Peace supreme reigns in hearts where love ascends,
Untouched by angry songs of naughty race,
Unspoilt by n nagging broils we chant our new praise.
The happy face of delta smiles with joy.
Our coconut white teeth are tales of hope
That cleans the bloody red of our sad ploy.
When tethered by might of most wicked rope,
We raise our faces high to stars of love,
And lift our heads to songs of love above.
We have released , this day the dove of peace.
Her plumage, white as wool entrails blot out
Our cloudy fears ensanguined with red fleece.
We have released today the crows of doubt,
Our heavy fears are told by birds of woe,
To foreign lands, the home of alien foe.
They made rich deserts of lush verdant soil,
They sowed cruel barren plagues on fruitful maid,
Calm Deltan soils were stabbed with angry foil,
Unleashing ire that slays with fitful raid.
The withered grass shall sing a song of hope.
The barren souls shall with sweet peace elope.
War swam in our vexed veins with liquid fire.
Its bloody stains did seat in sinews of
Our hope, where ugliest passions sung with ire.
Danced with raw pyre in fashions fair and rough.
When we search peace from life’s cruel pangs and strife,
We hear the dove of peace with songs of life.
The muddy face of Deltan clime is stained
With showers of blood; with rains of bullet pain.
With pains of death , where evil passions rained,
And youthful flowers of doom were cut insane.
We look to the sweet bird with healing balm,
The balm of love that fills our face with clam.
Rare phantoms trees are mirrors of our fears,
Unsheathing swords that stab us with cruel death,
Molesting us with plagues we feared to bear,
With pangs we hate to love that choke our breath..
The dove of peace fills me with great mission,
The rare sweet dream of our inmost mission.
Our creeks were littered with the sins of night.
The calm of night saves souls from crudest blows.
Our creeks were stained with blood of gruesome fight
With blood of ire, that flows from guns of foes.
We shall cherish our peace like sweetest flower,
Like rarest stars that shine in happiest hour.
Like superstitious hills fear clims our hearts.
Its shady cloaks robe ue with pangs of war;
It shoots with madly spears and fiercest darts;
Its most malicious pangs beam like death star.
We must seek peace in our great world and wide.
The dove descends with wit of nine great saints.
Nine candles are lit to Menorah
Of our rite, that the gate of hell rents.
Nine saints have come to cure from warlike bluff.
The niger Delta has seen a dove of peace –
The nine great saints that grant the creeks peace lease.
St Ifa
Chapter eight
Iambic Exploration of Peace :From
Disquiet to Quiet (Honsbira)
This time, my life has some interest to keep
And I will keep same to the longest port
I’ll go up down into the ocean deep
I’ll do so in war, I’ll do so in sport
Can we ensure peace and don’t go to war?
Wars are fought, so as to put on true quiet
We do not know the law, we are too poor
But is the truth still elusive as yet?
No longer, they, shall we at the moon bay
Or dial the number of fears we must fall
We are safe at bays or push through to bay
Disquiet will sly with peace placed on face
Though we are not married to hut turmoil
We must stand up and toil and toil and toil
2
How will there be peace in town of no law?
We must eat this so as to be in peace
How can there be peace when good rules flow?
On the good order and law they all hiss
Is it not order that we made Japan to grow?
Is it not making Japan rich in pan?
For unlike where disquiet and guiles full flow
Low Japan, reaching skywards, to God ran.
Peace as the absence of all disquiet
Is the run of the town when sad war dies
Peace is the absence of war and bliss, yet,
Where the longest peace reigns, peace never lies.
What’s to be done to have peace? Do fight war.
It is my joy that peace is at the door.
3
But what is peace, if not mixed up with law?
Peace can not be, with out the mix of truth
For peace to be, we must know the colour
In sun, hot, in rains, wet, build him a booth
There he will live like kernel in the shell.
To me all the while, we do not talk peace
The Niger Delta lord shall come, we will tell,
Tell him that what we want is nothing, peace
I see peace in the holy world jocund
And poised to live the zenith of our lone
The peace to the wall, it will rebound
The face, slapped, and hard, will be in good tone
Peace soaring and round us like perihelion
It glides and round our orb like aphelion.
4
What must be done to woman to protect?
For they do not feel at home in this cave.
What shall we do the men’s case to correct?
For the days of the mind of God to crave?
Their days have not fixed, moving to short day,
And one-on-one we look and cast the die
Not healed, we are burnt by the cold sun ray
Like rhizopus ,life spends a day and die
Lay on help, my sweet bro, hope is not lost.
Remember, we will rule our destiny
And safety will laugh, and safety will burst.
The Niger Delta is no colony.
God laws protect more than highest walls
And throw growth here and there like bouncing balls.
5
What’s odour of the peace as it now reigns?
It is a shape of true peace let us say.
Can this be smelled on cold days when rain rains?
Or is it how the air smells on noon day?
The voice of peace says what peace is about.
The voice of peace shows peace in its odour.
The old door of peace is closed, there no doubt.
As the long rooms are closed, there’s no ardour.
Yet, but no! Yes, when new lives are made.
Yes but no! No, now, there is no witness.
When the ovum dies of tadpoles in raid,
The tadpoles give rise to lives in newness
This marriage is the odour pure of peace
This newness, yes, is the ardour of this.
6
Can we touch peace in its colour, artist?
Is peace a primary or a secondary?
Leave this matter; oh leave, to the realist
And place lone peace here as the boundary
At this stage, it is a yoke in its house
And that is really what they say is pick
Is it the true colour of the church house?
Both sides of the peace can this piece link?
The colour of water sprayed into air,
The colour of air breathed into lungs,
The colours of the sky when it is clear,
The colour of kiss, to us this belongs,
Where there is no peace, the colour is red.
In that case, a longest corpse, laid on bed.
7
The sound of war is fear! The sound of peace?
As it dines on the sepulcher of war,
Peace is a child of war, but what is this?
Peace is the noise when you press down the poor.
The sound of peace is after crisis
But what is peace after crisis and how?
Can you keep it when fresh crisis rises?
I know how it talks; how it smiles, I know.
Peace is the clime of Eden in those days
When the green middle apple was unripe
The Niger Delta voice to God does pray
Her voice when in peace will lay these pipes.
Have you been to Deghele creek in Jans?
Do, and hear true peace roaring in mud cans.
8
Peace and not piece has it true texture.
First, is peace placed on hope when there is true peace.
This always takes place pure in places few.
Two, is peace when strict order on woe hiss.
The Niger Delta concept of peace is love,
Feels like morn’s sun at A.M.seven
Whose touches the sick of the soul do cure
The first and the last meet to fell even.
I will tell you what, and I will be sped,
Like the universals in water rained,
Like the fell of two friends on water bed,
Like the world, still a void and still unstained,
What you fell when you touch Cassowary
The feel of some priests, when cassock -weary.
9
Peace gives up the people to acts and growth
As it takes us from one stage to the next,,
In the mind of the peaceful, growths float
True message of growth sent out in text,
Sent though air, Orere to Yenagoa.
Our barrels yield more Tebu’s to Afan’s,
Like the smooth rail line of Bay-Delagoa,
Just like wars which have its friends, peace has fans.
It is true, what the lions say about peace.
It is true, what the lambs say of pieces.
Peace will not come up, if we don’t have these.
Peace has claws; these will devour the crisis.
Peace doctors, keeping the soul of our race,
10
Our race to human race outside rate race.
This day what do we think or say or do?
we need one thing: we want peace in the land.
The pact of peace all the while is ado
As a true witness to this is Smooth’s band.
I will call in Peace Maker Barrister.
Now talk of this and things of like nature
Come now solution, but not hereafter.
For this to be, won’t corruption rupture?
Now is the hereafter; now it is here.
From lowly things like us let true peace come;
To our long trebled tongues let peace cohere.
They’ll take this to heart: Dick ,Harry and Tom.
Lifeless peace has no heart, a choicest chine .
Little peace has no size, a pricest wine.
Honsbira
Chapter nine
THE NIGER DELTA: ASPIRATION AND EXPECTATION
(Honsbira)
You see your visitor from high heaven.
Oh we relate to the bread unleaven
As we scorn your anti peace visitant.
We march past disquiet with cosecant.
Niger Delta in glows we boast of you,
For your sad honey, brown dose through and through.
Our heads swollen with pride, our mouths wide.
You see, we are well in realm of pride we ride.
In showers of love rays, to wed with the greens.
Here ,day and night, though not one , are like twins
Which day can swim into the night, full dark.;
Which night can rise into the day, full spark.
2)
Yes, Niger Delta, you sing us like lark.
Your inspiration, high, speeds up like shark .
Sweet Niger Delta, you help the helpless.
The crocodile drops his teeth for the careless,
Your clean water, the strength of the iguana
At the bases of the grass bahama.
Your deep and shallow rivers make a sheep.
The rivers looking round like a fat ape,
Weave nets of radials like Ronaldinho,
Dashing here and there like Nwankwo Kanu.
Above this, sing sweet birds like nightingale.
these sweeter birds will consume and inhale
3)
Old love for things unlucky has grown stale.
A metamorphosis of the gold bale.
Sight from the air makes a true net
For, like fishing traps, intricacies are set.
Our traps in the water hold the fishes.
This water holds the boat in all riches.
Ocean waters that are salt and blue black,
Brackish waters and canoes shall not crack.
The tilapia and the “kperekpere’
These Opuama will call “kpalakpala”
This sweet homonyms, oh Niger Delta.
This divine rhyme of my poem, my brother.
4)
It is not easy to be here at noon,
To take part in the grinding of divine corn
Crisis kills unity, the woe rises ,
But in all the culture rime shows the oneness.
This the fair day has shown in all fairness,
Our warm lore ,oh Niger Delta, is known.
From Dakar to Kano then to Cape Town.
In the morning, the cocks pose, crowing .
In the night, the ‘Owawa’ keeps barking.
In midst of plenty God says “eat and drink”.
Eat of the Delta plenteous: it’ll not shrink.
5)
The deaf has heard all that I said – I think.
The stupid blind shall with his boat go sink.
We’re in the Niger Delta, base of plentitude.
We reap strength and wealth through the beatitude.
Each time on the current of the swift creek
We drift with the fishes, with their heads sleek.
Daily on the current world we eat salt;
We are in a world of salt as a cult.
Our bones, strong built, our organs are erect;
Very few are lazy – those who elect.
We fight to give all others no fever.
We give meat to others and their liver.
6)
To be kind forever and for ever
We are glad to live along the river.
Rivers made hard by its quid and its salt.
Rivers of this ’quid and salt made a bolt.
Fluid from Olokun on its tower high throne
Fled from crayfish and big crab without bone.
In the Niger Delta, where we must live,
Looking around the world for any to give,
From the sponges of this things honey to lick,
In the strength of a giant ready to kick.
For it is Pink oil we give to Nigeria,
Timber and gases without hysteria.
7)
We house the sweet flower, sweet crotalaria,
There are others such as the thumbergia.
We can do with our rough alligators
Around which you see the smooth monitors.
We can do with our brand of tortoises
In the brackish waters with the Pisces.
Each time upon the currents if the streams,
We find the turtle which, like tortoise seems.
Each time on the fast drift of the river,
At ease we lay and smile in life ever.
Oh Western Niger Delta of full worth,
Home of friendly animals of this sort.
8)
What we gain is the fruit of this effort.
Oh sing, old songs of Omoge Comfort.
Our castle is safe in battle of life.
For the wise there is life. Death’s not rife.
Our children work hard to hold the glory
To this end, to them all we are sorry.
To the infamous men of low esteem,
Reciprocals that this home will demean.
I cry; I sigh for the weak and any
In my home I am in good company.
Give us hope; give us soap, Niger Delta.
Over all your children you must cater.
9)
Gbogbo oun kan maa da, things shall be better.
We have now by now written our letter.
Where the gods live, truth shall for all time lie;
Where God lives, falsehood shall forever fly.
The gods who serve our God shall never fail.
Cleansing like incense the altar like grail.
In a trio of gods, GOD and the people.
Embrace colours when they change to purple.
All these the heaven’s gate shall one day tell.
All this before our eyes shall make a dell.
This all Deltans at heaven’s gate shall hold.
The spirit of life on our heads speaking bold.
10)
At heaven’s gate we come in from the cold
Deltans are glad to track from cold to gold.
This all Deltans at heaven’s gate shall think.
Some will have pardon; some will fall and sing.
These are those who will wallow at nowhere.
They shall be locked up in rooms without ware.
Dear father: thanks for the good you gave us;
Our terrain locus gives us focus.
We are in a journey of a hundred years,
Which real Deltans shall complete without fears.
From heaven’s gate, space to Niger Delta
To heaven’s gate through space from the Delta.
11)
We will share heaven’s dew all together
Shall house the heaven minded together.
We ourselves shall sit on missions current
Every day on the one creek of torrent.
This will relate all time sweet veries
From the thin rude time of doom, this varies.
From terrains of enclaves of rich cities
Did this obtain even in the sixties?
Angels of hope greet the Delta valley
Like the wings of bird, with bird the ally.
There is new ministry of the Niger Delta.
Many of these ill days it will alter
12)
Many of these old days it will utter,
Their stubborn millipedes it will shatter.
Like Mao Tse Tung and communism.
Populist developomentalism !
There rich thoughts grow like pumpkin and banana.
We cherish these thoughts like Mariana,
Decorated by maids of firefly ,
So as to fly round and round happily.
As three chose to move in streams of thick brooms,
They gave a sense of Australia the , Dawns .
We will have scenery of S.A bush veldt.
So , then, all in Argentina is felt.
13)
We won’t fight with guns; but with rare kung fu
Our prowess are in large cassettes, not few.
Look from Jumole to Kolokolo
Through Aghoro to Jaja’s Opobo;
We search the Delta State of Nigeria .
We search the rivers’ books, hagios biblia
Around the oil well of my dear states
Written “blessed among the holy states”.
In truth of this none shall dare your proud wealth
Niger Delta, none shall dare your proud health.
For what, really, are we to think about?
Our men are of oil, they are men of clout.
14)
These men are men of oil, they are men of clout.
Victor Kojo Wood is all , no doubt,
Such that even the dead and the buried
To high heavens all of them have hurried,
To give their praises to God for his life.
He cuts the weed of life with a sad knife.
But all will love to be soaked in love oil,
Dead or alive, to be soaked in crude oil.
So, on the third day of our interments,
We rise to the spaces to the elements,
Melt out of the hollow and move in flight
To tell the maker of our richest height.
15)
To tell the maker of our riches height,
Open the minds door to receive the light.
At times what is good stings he that has it.
This black thing enriches; but then for it,
Here is colonized, it calls colonizers,
Ahead of us we can see equalizers.
When in the noon fish scatter woven nets
(In this the Niger Delta is an exponent),
Fishes leap for joy for the noise it makes.
Strange, sweet, like in far England, that of Kate.
Like dove’s mix with nature’s, and so, good.
It allows the hunter for his day-food.
16)
It allows the hunter for its own good.
When that is this, he’s no longer in mood.
Bears, piercing the roots of the mangrove tree,
Must rest, carefree, after the sun beam spree.
Sometimes, tear the trap; sometimes, caught by trap.
They cry “ouuun, ouwn, khien ,khiem; the hunters clap.
The Niger Delta, bed for the bedless,
Your white beaches this glowing suns caress;
Birds and bats of bare worth interchange selves,
Emitting joy in midst of the souled leaves.
The birds and the bats in close allegiance;
Exchange without the writ of conveyance.
17)
Do things without the creed of conveyance,
Burns a quality without obeisance.
They both trust one thing: fresh leaves, fine flowers.
We shall sing as travelers by the river.
They’re enemies; but no opponent frowns.
They in good nature with each other bounce.
In the Delta, in nature’s nectars spree,
Lots of them you see. Lots of games you see!
Among friendly animals that are foes
Among peaceful humans that love woes
Save some polar bears, sharp teeth are things of joy,
In a paradise setting of true love
18)
In a paradise placement of slow wave
Each number of the setting loves the dove.
The eagles’ long looks at the Delta net,
At the oil clime and for a moment,
All the time the youth of the land as kin;
In a moment the elders also seen.
Exchanging wit for wit and gut for gut,
The happy conjugation of species
The thread of dangers woven round the creeks.
Our embryos suck the thread and it shrinks.
Our open eye re-opens and then blinks.
We paint our white thumb with true peace as ink.
19)
we paint our whole frame with this peace for ink.
We look at dangers and our eyes won’t blink ,
To create more conjugation of veries.
From the Niger Delta goods and realies,
All that the others can do we can do,
Pride absorbing and of not much ado.
This they cannot do; that they cannot make.
Loving our worth, they can not imitate.
What we our God has made us is a self,
With a heavy book of culture in a shelf.
The cultured, beautifully packed culture,
Aggregating culture in a treasure.
20)
This and other culture is a feature;
All the good traces and of good pleasure,
Reveal the eternal truth about men.
Conflicts of sizes are bound to occur,
That where they join as one – two or more men
At last ,this will fuse them into succour.
And sharp, then, at the teeth of hope and fat joy,
As they bite the tummy of conflicts’ ploy.
We look at them; shake heads as though they are boys.
As they bite the tummy of conflict buoy.
The Delta is ankle deep to reason
The Delta, fat, deep and high, we reason.
21
Stand erect to the deed, more times, ten times;
And ring the jingle in a beat that rhymes.
That we do as well: they are synonyms
And shall be called “Bismarck” as pseudonyms.
We hope not in any, but our true selves,
Caring for others and ourselves, ourselves.
And (yes) from now to ages yet to be,
Believe, and this hope shall for ever be.
To sugars to bitters, this they should kiss;
To sweet to gall, the envious must take this.
But then .peace is what we want, we need rest.
22
Rich rest, not turmoil, must seek for a rest.
We want love, that is, our love for our breath.
It must be love which is one’s affection for each,
The tilapias sweet care for all the fish.
Since the birth of the Niger Delta zone.
In which each of the state is a noon,
Clothed in a damask of much colours
Our daily mean and water is allure
We sing cuckoo like the holy kuku
The Urhobo has called this the ilekuku
when I was a little boy, the world was young
Then cuckoo and tin tin we had for song.
23
Then cuckoo and tin tin we had for song.
Some of the songs were short; others were long
A European shaft was our area then.
That was what we have met the old Eden.
We has no oil as the co-efficient;
The black thing, oil ,so magnificent,
Black gold that enriches as resources,
Though there are other resources so worse.
Petro oil leads one to eternity
Pointing the prospect to infinity
It de-links our prospects to History,
De-links our prospect from low victory.
24
De-link my prospect from low victory
Sing me loud, Delta, like Isaac Gregory.
Oh Niger Delta your practiced actions we want;
Actions and factions to which you are won’t.
Our aim, really, is: make a song to sing,
As the wide world to the small Delta we cling.
Niger Delta, the world sends you greetings;
To the Ramos were creeks are in meetings;
For the nations to be, you live you drink
In your plenty, of others lame you think
For love of the due which at times is few
In love of wealth to which we are due.
25)
In love of the wealth for which we take clue,
To write up poems with honesty in view.
From Warri where men don’t worry, we send
What nature gives to us that shall not end.
In Yenagoa, we are okay we wish
Nor good nor bad, but all that is God’s wish.
Nor god nor bad, but most godly wishes.
Yes, all the gods that lies on our beaches,
The black thing, superior to columbites,
For which Nigerians are but Israelites,
Thought s of the Niger Delta from night mare,
The cruel and sore things of bad dreams they mar.
26)
All the bad things of bad dreams they will dare.
The actualities of night mares, not here.
The will of the progress of want we block,
Thought of the dear home before the dear cock,
When in the even at the riverside,
We steer seawards with the waves to abide,
The waves coming to go so many times,
Depending on the seasons and the climes.
Moist fishing boats are hurled , high ,ashore,
Joining to vegetations along shore.
Pelicans by the shore and egrets, both white,
Seawards, landwards, like flying parakeet.
27)
Seawards, landwards. Flying the air to bite,
We dance our legs lame, possessed Betty Wright.
Children throw pebbles offshore out to sea.
Some jump and happily descend to sea,
Swim off banks and corkishly, view the land,
Where fowl, dogs, goats, sheep and cows play on sand.
White sand serves as materials for buildings
Take as much as you will it’s self filling.
Niger Delta gives without looking back.
In this regard, the globe is taken aback.
28)
In this regard, it is all for Barak
The mystery of Japan we can crack,
When they view from Iye’s long Deghele,
Where there are lots of birds, like nightingale.
I look into the creeks and then beyond,
Beyond Yenagoa; where we’re not in bond.
There is America at the other side,
I can see her well and others beside.
In that area, there is the rule of time,
To see the Americas in full rime.
But not from six pm to six am ,
It is six am through seven pm.
29)
It is six pm and this is the elm.
Am I coming to Forcados? Yes I am.
A poetic truth, not open to dispute:
Stand at Awoye, if this you refute,
Where things are real, though some are mystery,
In the great Nigerian remote history,
Pleasantly warm at some legal backups,
Like Athens’ maiden with warm things in stocks,
Like some benefiting fighters we fought.
Like the Lord’s God Angelry we have wrought.
This is warning and it is so dangerous,
Assailing this region is onerous.
30)
And to come to this region is callous,
Like wrangles with women, cantankerous.
Sweet tendency towards extra crisis
As each one against the other rises.
For they use to say that we do like war,
Like the hotel customer and the whore.
For the love of the dear land makes us one#
Covered by common staying the cone,
To go all round Orere-Yenagoa,
A sector, bearing “who dares is a goer”.
The claws of sad lion, the true Delta is,
Made out for Cherubs, men who bliss.
31)
Made of more Seraphs, men who love to bless,
Constant dimples of love show in our kiss.
We’re in a garden where Cherub fruits ripen,
In a cave where Obama things happen.
In league with tusk of wisdom from afar,
Our oil and oil jars shall not lie ajar.
In doors of mangrove and gates of bamboo,
The Jajas won’t look on at Opobo.
Rush, oh tears, you shall into verity,
And those high birds shall cry eternity,
As Delta our own heart is an empire.
We play with ploy with our God as umpire.
32)
We are with our god and we shall not retire,
And then for the world we will not aspire,
Like Jesus in midst of the apostles,
Sweet Mohammed with holy disciples;
Our spirits reign as we Deltans hustle,
With the polished stones that twinkle, twinkle.
We sing some new songs: adaka doko
These songs must fly to Adaka Boro.
Our gaze are high, our heads are made up.
Our heads? Really, none is a nincompoop.
Most times, fat centipedes climb the spree
In avoidance of fat birds on the tree.
33)
So as to dodge the fat birds which them see,
Fat millipedes give themselves to the sea.
It is not sorrow that we have to dress,
The para-men relations to address.
When nature reacts, it does so all round.
In nature, things hard or soft are around.
They put on shapes and diverse faces.
Each with the true identities it chases.
In truth , as they wear shapes of diverse forms,
Each has unique functions for which it comes.
When nature reacts it creates self satiety,
All by the Niger Delta verity.
Not by the Niger Delta oddity,
We shall create wealth to full extremity,
Born sights from the scene of ages to be,
Stable stances for children of obi .
The sun that journeys round the staying earth,
Pardon , the sun, stable for the circling earth
Symbolizing nature on the earths’ plane.
Soft sun running along nature’s lane.
In Isekiri culture is allure,
In Urhobo virtue is full colour,
All this with beauty are not at variance.
And Ijaw, aglow with richly radiance
34)
And Ijaw afloat on richly credence ,
Whispers into my ear nature’s parlance .
In nature ,where we live, we do not care.
Discolored bat the back we do not stir.\
We thought the world will applaud us for all.
Our clap trap ,our beauty appeals to call.
We are old Plato’s and are old angel.
We are some beauteous ones change to marble.
What will it cost should we reshape our wit?
Niger Deltans redress , beat by beat.
Dance for long hours to wipe out this tears.
Sing for more hours to show there are no fears
35)
Sing for more hours for here no one cares
In the song’s tenure, we sit on gold chairs.
Niger Delta shall sit down up to view,
The shield in the oppressors hand in lieu.
Those shield we can make; but we do not mind,
It suits us all the time because we are kind.
We have swallowed some potions against steel,
We arte up to them in the radical deal.
Think of old Nana, the Isekiri
and his war :Kparakpo and kiriji.
Also the wise escapade of Jaja
As wise as the ancient men of Gonja.
36)
As wise among the twelve as old Asher .
Over the clan we have our Alhaja.
Oh greedy oppressors, you scorn at fate!
Wherever you come from, you are no mate.
Truly, able we can do all you do.
You are unable – can’t swim at the Dodo.
The clan is our womb; and it is our tomb;
Our wide papers we sign with our white thumb.
God’s hand through us shall help those who don’t have,
And build our wisdom like Daniel and dive.
At noon it is para spacey, although
We live all out; our high yeast and its dough.
37)
We live all out; and our lives shall not bow.
Self abnegation leaving all to foe.
We give in pleading for peace to triumph
When this peace come both parties shall laugh.
Elebechi’s song for national moimoi
Yes, well rationed will give us joy.
Elebechi spoke not of Delta oil
Which the world and nations took as spoil.
Of the bite they give us the bell is rung.
Of the might they give us they ring loud gong.
We rise up only to fight the idles
Mouths dance wa wa like those with dodos
38)
And sing, and cry, but too low like weak poles.
We keep the ball of peace which to all roles,
But sweet oppressors will know no remorse,
They make here from there to here like the mouse.
In the Delta around Oloibiri ,
We do not know of the kiri kiri.
Attempts to make the scions see reason won’t end.
For now ,today, some saviours descend.
Really? But who are the saviours to be?
The ones to come for what we call Obi.
Good groups shall spring up, made of writers,
We hold olives in our hands not rapiers.
39)
We hold olives in our hands, not pinchers
Like the Lander brothers, we’re like Richards .
Through this, the peace of the place will show
For to the sharp pen the riffle shall bow.
This is an epigram, though, we don’t know it .
This is an epigram; the poet deems it fit...
Man shall know man in manners regular,
Each not seizing each by the jugular.
The black fluid shall block to defy all looks,
There shall be the inventories in all books,
And like sweet liquids( for like liquid it is)
Flowing more freely then on to the seas.
40)
Flowing more freely than before is this.
Oil shall soak the face of who thinks he is.
Then all will live and eat to full desire,
Until to the sea beds the fish aspire.
All shall eat to live to holy measure
Of hope, of life, of death of no culture.
The beaded bride at show sees no redness.
In here, we see naught, knowing not our fairness.
Those who encroach on the Niger Delta,
Move away her beautifuls to scatter.
I stayed with a seer, he was Cheidu.
Cheidu, God in you with wit does imbue .
41)
In the west they will call the obu
You will make who undo us their deeds to rue.
He said this land shall grow to a high height.
It shall go up; up and high like the kite.
Good goods shall come and go through ports and ports.
The growth in real trade shall not be by efforts.
A time shall come for real developers
To contend with the real interlopers.
When the far off shall set tribe after tribe,
They moisten masses in mist of bribe.
This fluid is thick and sticky, like the mud;
But it’s not mud; it just wears this mood.
42)
We are all glad like the old Robinhood.
Some rich offers look as though they are not good.
We denote and connote the power of crooks.
We watch the malice drift away trough brooks.
Radiate the true rare love of true Deltans.
Each one for all people like Nigerians.
We engage each; and each all engages,
In the Nile Delta, the Vaal , the Ganges.
Reveals your hope, oh Delta, not cagey.
Such a relationship, soft and clayey,
With your sweet songs we will show in your chart.
This is good type of reason, not chit chat.
43)
This is a good means and reason, wear the hat.
No wise rat will ever befriend the cat !
Maintain the bonds which the ancestors did you give.
Do this well for at last we shall all live.
This is fathers’ bond, not god’s bond with Eve.
In the end as we know, Eve had to leave.
Bonds contain the odds and rods of the soul.
We are one; our souls are one, not two poles.
Niger Delta is poised with urge to dare.
The store of health and wealth in need are there,
Rejuvenating, invigorating,
Men, and cow men, congratulating.
44)
Now there shall always be enough meetings,
To include even the ones in the kitchens.
In a circuitous coming together
In warm hand shake to cheer one another.
Men and cal men fuse in one sector
and nothing shall go bad here, we’re victor.
We are grouped into a sector by nature#
By socio-economic stature.
History and culture, embracing our kind.
We gain more all the day to give as find,
Praying “Give us more to give them all the more”.
We shall serve them all the more that they will snore.
45)
We’ll give them much: not the ‘neither’ or ‘nor’ .
So there is the love for them that we bore.
History shall not die, culture shall not die.
For all the world, we shall cast the black dye
Until we are able to help all the poor
We won’t give up, more are at the door.
I see Mum Niger Delta as a house;
Fish and rivers around the house do browse
Forest as beautiful decorations
Shrubs and flowers as green beautifications.
I see the brushes of rising sunshine,
The rushing of the setting suns as they shine.
46)
The rushing of the setting sun is fine,
Washing us clean ,gives us a meal to dine.
This licking as the dog does the child,
This the angels also trace when they glide.
Rejuvenating, invigorating.
Earthworms, toads, birds and men, celebrating.
When we have more to give, we are in joy,
When we have no tears to give as sad coy.
Oh God, do give us a heart of soft stone,
For as we give out to them, we are none.
When we have much to give, we are in tears ,
When we have no tears to give we are in fears.
47)
God, give us the mean , this in us inheres
When we are dry, the Niger Delta stares.
The wide basin of the Niger Delta,
Full of purposes like the lord’s altar,
Just like the Nile Delta and Orange’s
Ready and long from ages to ages,
Do inspire songs of loses and of gains.
Oh see my Niger Delta as a cage,
Things unpleasant and pleasant make us rage.
In this frenzy of mood we pick the fruit
Falling off red mangroves in their salt root.
48)
Falling of red mangroves, march like true boot.
We children have yellow arrows to shoot#
Most times when we think of our old shore game,
How the mangrove of the shore held her name;
Most times Niger Delta prays to grow young
With the wit of the sweet shore as a song.
I feel like singing this time for tributes
To my strength of reckon it contributes.
Pierce in raffia ribs; cast them off the shore.
Far offshore, they drop on water “shoorr, shoorr”,
Like the long arrows of the Carthaginians.
Like the ball shot of the Argentineans!
47)
Our fishes die; most time for them they come.
The fishes at play take to death as norm.
Each town. Each point, each of them yields as such
Together they are all single to rush.
A delve or dive yields not in face of mood.
In our home they look at us as mere wood,
But at break of day, they long to see here.
At night at ease we all long the shores fear.
The thought that today’s forest will be long
Bares heads safe from sun burns all the day long.
Backs, black saved from friendly showers of rains ,
And sipping dearly other natures gains.
Our happy children smile broad to blossom;
They are in care of their ire at bosom.
Here and there, on land, and in the air;
Around us everything too fresh, too fair.
48)
Around us all things are too clear and dear.
Who they are, after all , we do not care.
They mix up things here, but gives us good bliss.
Things as good in real form give us true kiss.
You see, it is here we are in blue boom,
And happy that we sing as nature’s groom.
The truism we are of Niger Delta born,
Blows through us like some real eddies inborn,
Re-builds the haemoglobin into oxy-
All system, mixing; natural rosy.
It flushes the pipes, moves of toxin far.
In nature good and bad must grow differ.
49)
Our strong men fight too much not to suffer.
The name of sweet mood in them we confer.
The joy of being our Niger Delta queen
Cures hard malaria with no heed to quin.
Like the Crusaders, Stephen among them
In hand, the name of Christ as power emblem.
We bring growth in good billions like rushes.
Bring us a heart of love in choruses
When we dance, it is well; songs, we sing loud.
And religionism to pose as guard.
Nativism says to both “I am old”
The forest shrine of the hot world is cold.
50)
The forest god the cure to this we mould.
They don’t fail at all; and this makes us bold.
Their houses’re the only enclave of true men.
No spirit strange will be seen as not mean.
The smiling dunes of the white shore we tread
As starry twilight has to grow all red.
When black soft lovers are off to their room
With only witness alone to the moon,
The see the sweet side of the Caribbean .
Not Consul Ralph pitied Ebrohimians.
When they fought honest hard ownership wars.
When they make the dishonest colo chores.
51)
Those who pray for wars do suffer too worse,
Like victims of love, the sad watery whores.
Oh make the Deltans to pray as warriors
In spirit , in physique - not inferiors.
Sustain our zeal when we march the mud shore
In pains, in jo, this we take as core.
Oh we are in a realm of low abundance,
And low we bow in shameless obeisance.
We see we bow down low, we are what we are.
Our ‘manship’ we race on like Toyota,
Because there is full hope in what will come,
Our basin-wide lips point out to become.
51)
This basin wide lips point out to beckon.
God and the gods themselves see the outcome.
Like birds nested in wait for meals to drop,
The dawn we praise; our needs come from the up.
We feed on wisdom in lieu of old Rome.
What is more? Rome land is all of rich norm.
All the deaths we sweep off with hard venture.
Our countenance as hard as the culture;
Painted Delta; scented fragrant stature.
Your dove tail hands feed us to true measure.
The sages old shall call you “our mother”.
Our fathers all call you “our sweet father”.
52)
It’s high day we look at each as the ruder.
Small intrigues; hard, soft conflict, don’t bother.
Even Shoel won’t leave you unapplauded,
And ancient sages will keep you lauded.
Her biggest vulva is big for big births;
Her scions are not the fiends to fight to death.
We are in our own part of the wide world
Where, weather old or young, you need being bold.
In Niger Delta, our own place of stay,
Waves in greed kill our soft shore: watch and pray.
Like acids, brush the walls of ‘Madino.
Like the ancient creeds of Asia Minor.
53)
Though the sea eats our land, it us honour.
So much I call her name “Hard Donor”.
Of show of her grading and degrading,
It belabors our view when aggrading,
The process of which our seas have been made.
A nature’s law by forces that are maid.
Moist Niger Delta: this self made shadow
You love your soil, you love not cattle.
We’re gallants and in our self made unit,
We fight on and on and reach the zenith.
To our song of the prairies, the lames dance.
We as land owners and of shrines, we bounce.
54)
This time we of this clan will keep our stance.
This hour all in our land will hold our stands.
Years ago, we were young birds in the nest.
Ate, but mouth stretched in want for the next.
Tiers past, our jointed food was tier on tier.
Leaves of hyacinths were in columns and too dear
Like water in the brooks have no ripples,
Like pricest girl’s smile, tooled with deep dimples.
The leaves, the water, the air give us forms.
We are not draggled in riparian storms.
The chemistry of banks in us joy fill
Like some detached leaves in their chlorophyll
55)
And like strangled leaves which then do not feel,
The thoughts of God, full filled, in us refill.
They wash our stomach clean and alveoli.
So it used to be in Shiloh with Eli.
A divine feature these points underlie
In this dear native home and by and bye.
In our native home, a related dhobi
As it is, Ekeremor and Bobi.
The ramshackeld bungaloo won’t lie low.
Would lie and high to our guests who in flow.
In bungalow duplexes we shall be
Humming these sweet songs like the honey bee.
56)
We need a source of all strength, the obi,
To fight with any France like a true Bey
And grope for the sign under the earth ring
And fingers as light, golden bell we ring.
Here, inside, is more healthy than outside ,
Fair substances invade here so beside.
Like some old monks, do we sit in limbo?
Like in old Egypt and her Abydo.
We have been made a true hut, a true land.
To fear no more however the odd stand.
Now that we are in bungalow duplexes,
The cherished order becomes complexes.
57)
Our cherished orders are our indices.
At midnight we sing in true reflexes,
Threatened, day and night ,by those on platform,
The heart of oddities this shall transform.
Handed into some hands in elastic,
In the new upsurge of Beys so basic,
Rewane went; going …going was he.
Adaka reacted, and grand was he.
As this was the word low in leeward days,
And into same lies have peeped in these trays.
The Niger Delta is in Nigeria.
It is sweet; it is gall, with hysteria.
58)
Where shall we go, shall we to Assyria?
Its keel and crest make me think of Syria. .
There are these chaos and throes and enough word
The triumph of the holy ones like chords.
In this strange range, we the distressed need harsh guts
Strange range making all of us men of clouts,
Arrows of sorrows fall on us in showers.
Bonnet of wisdom bursts with brain movers.
Some camshafts, hot, force trimmed, drives the gates ajar.
They tarry too far; but never know how far.
The grip of the foes against us then soars.
In this new jeep, we shall scorn all war hours.
59)
And disdained and cursed are the western towers.
These from here we undo with these land rovers,
Blind and bat like, the illness are then sour.
I fly so high, and homing , I will not flaw .
Oh ancient Warri in hard equation!
Hardened ones, ancient songs of hard nation.
We are not cracked; we are elastic strings.
Meat and its price in the proud market ring.
You ring tall pyramids with your red beads.
The aura, some common weeds, it then weeds.
We can say where we are, Warri within.
Prone to glair, new old poems must be written
59)
Prone to glare, none of us shall be beaten
All stories not written will get rotten.
We browse and we brail, like the blind lawyer,
Like the blind man, decked as farmer Soya .
The tiny strides of the giant in a race ,
They wear round the neck hundred threats as lace.
But now now, our hope and its peace will come,
The verisimilitude of rich norm.
The Delta, intent to make her own gold,
For deprived, we breathe in new spirit bold.
Souls here are no shy tiny worms that fold.
They are doves and e’en as they you scold.
60)
Too deprived, we breathe in air from the old;
To a false want we step in from this world.
Fiends suck our juice we stand too near to look.
In weakling clause now pictured in odd book.
The land and our cowed contents are nannies.
The land, hands and mouth, on her she manies.
The Niger Delta, coloured with live streams.
Here hope and scope crossbreed and are in beams.
Cross marriages of suns and rains face
The highest turnout, a special case,
Like Xmas things, and smiling and shining.
It beams a shaken steamy face dancing.
61)
It is a shaking river face shining,
Around curve everywhere like a shilling.
Birds dancing singing and trees hum good songs.
Singing sea birds beautify us with gongs.
This union we consume and sing coo coo
Like the fine church girls at Obuluku.
Poor is our spirit; and pure is our look.
To us fine ones, true love to us do hook.
Hooks without bait hook out fish prized and pure.
A rich god is inherent in our core.
Mouths of toothless old men are filled with yam,
They chew their cube more true like goats, ‘wam wam’.
61)
They chew in groups like the hot bees in swarm .
In cases few, they crush the flesh of ram.
We shall face the excursion with fresh flesh
And sweep the grit and grins with a soft brush.
In plenteous hours of plenteous bare beauty
In attendance, beast and men in duty.
The Delta Rivers this time will be milk,
When floating vegetation will be silk.
Neptune’s ocean houses the deprived fish.
Caution seasons losses their contrived reach.
And all the women, leavened, beautiful,
Mix with ones, awkward legged and awful.
62)
Some men, awkward legged ,are not careful;
Know that the women, living colourful,
Know that this houses nature and her care.
There is naught to fear ; we sleep without stir,
As in the golden age, ages ago ,
Like some old songs sung and long they will go.
In those days earth was ours, the good therein.
The gates were open, the ripe fruits herein.
The plump ones singing to plumped abundance.
They would to nature nod in concordance.
Old Yenagoan peace is bold and plumpy .
Niger Delta care is rich and happy.
63)
And full Calabar songs is my hobby.
And the conjunction I sing with Lipi.
The might of he that shall stand bold with us,
His care and his guide is never a loss.
In our hearts in a quest we ring the bells.
We sing, we hum, we dance, we jump in dells.
The angels of hell took the pains away
Deep and deep into earth core, down to lay.
Milk stretched its mouth to our mouth unstretched .
Health longed out its breath to our nose, cup stretched.
The soiled hands are in divine ’quids washed.
Incomprehensibility is flushed .
62)
Incomprehensibility, is crushed;
Non complementarities also lashed.
As happiness has come, deep dark tears’re gone.
Groans are cast away, cast like fleshless bone.
In fresh life style we sing yokoko
Like onward Ijaw in ‘Daka Boro.
Our truism is well booked in Yenagoa,
This history well written by Alagoa.
Our truism is enrolled in Kaiama.
There shall progress and growth, no comma.
Oh god, the Kaiama declaration!
And now, the Isekirian inclination.
63)
Things of like nature to glue – no faction.
The ‘Jaws and ‘Were to glue - full fraction.
Then the born growth will not fall to hammer
And learning more, we learn the oedema.
May this rich care live and in true ways.
We long for long to live to longest days.
With heaven’s juice sucked in like oxygen.
With heaven’s balm protects the citizen.
You ant and fireflies, we know all you know.
And garden eggs and peanuts you we sow.
May your grained pollination have no end.
This conjugation makes each one a friend.
64)
To the place hinged now we seem to tend.
So our true greetings to the gods we send.
Intrusions, sad, shall not come to no guard.
We are points of pins though we are not bad.
Their rich interference straightens them not us.
In leaning places, this is a discourse.
The god-made wisdom will stand full and grow.
This religio-mystic thing has to glow.
Though we do feel tired that we are here ,
We higher feel all times we have to dare.
Here Deltans feel that theirs shall sure come.
The quiet and the calm have come after storm.
65)
The soul calm we reap true calm after storm;
In place of the Swedish bitters, take your rum;
Our resources grow to a place long;
All those in Tobago shall come along;
We must reframe the mind to be of good name;
Those mighty men of fame from here they came;
And going and coming, the land view;
And going and coming, the clan in view.
Oh single soul, think out the rule for our plight;
Oh treble plight, cast not on us your frail light!
We grow to the point, “Britain, here we come”.
Be you hard, be you soft, you are welcome.
66
Holy lord, we invite you; you’re to come;
Power soaked greetings from who to become;
The Delta, free, a sited mangrove tree,
Of a proud state in a fine prairies spree,
The holy mangrove standing on stilt roots,
Grow tall and erect like soldiers boots.
Our roots: we dream of, and long for, you.
Your creeks and streams serve us in all we do.
True, we have the sweet tone, the true salt, here.
True, we with Fulani, our fish we share.
They have the llama meat; we have the dice.
The sweetest yam we eat, and slice by slice.
67)
The sweetest yam cannot outshine the rice
And doing as we like’s our enterprise.
We eat what we can; can what we can’t eat.
Our ownership of the clan is our bait.
At times, we look sad when we see our maid.
Our sorely cave the sad oppressors raid.
It is fat late; shall we all go hungry?
It is late, culture, long will not bury.
We have, and fat our crayfish of all sorts.
The holy clan with our prayers are in sports.
And then and low and low we sink into sleep.
The thought we own here is good wine to sip.
68)
All in all, the oneness of all we keep.
Above all, rudeness pushes us too deep.
The wo and ko of the oil driven pipes,
The wet spilled from the pipes of diverse types,
And flow through enriched and sound geography –
Name them in Niger Delta biography.
Stem of long peace we have caught in our arms
With olives we have caught and held in bands.
All times we feed fat on our own, you see.
Most time it’s banquet; it’s always easy.
We take no vengeance to a long drawn run.
We take no vengeance at all, that we scorn.
69)
We take no long venge, as we eat our corn.
From the mere Cancer to the Capricorn.
We are sung to sleep; we have naught to fear.
Tens of souls, drops of blood, we do not care.
We must take the sad potion against steel
And we have drawn closer tight to them still.
Thrusted backwards into the millennium ,
A swelling bale of hope in continuum.
We try and try and hard towards milieu.
We have the clans’ shine silver in full view.
And none shall fallow lie, so take the bier.
But into the throne dive and hold the lair.
70)
Sons and yet to come shall tread on land toi
We will smile as we dance and march koi koi.
One thing is red in our hand, a red clout.
One thing speaks loud from our throat, a thick gut.
Our soft hand is a daring bundle
And the weak must cross the power hurdle.
Strength them comes from the earth through the xylem .
Wastes then get off the bundle through the phloem
And sing the Niger Delta off the rains.
Let the dumb mouth then open without reins.
A purposeful rich formation this is ,
An intended rich formation as this.
71)
An intended rich geography we kiss;
Will keep us together, lead us to bliss.
With pregnant unism in obeisance,
A pregnant natural sweet alliance.
We’re safe; we’re proud; we sing aloud.
In this wise, God uses this sim in cloud.
If only the mouth sings god without close,
And fresh days of hope will come as a dose,
To sing the Niger Delta creeds become
And those who won’t sing it we overcome.
Who’s to sing the natured composed lyre song?
Who’s to play the Niger Delta long gong?
72)
Who will sing the Niger Delta for long?
With the wish of God, fear of gods along?
But they are all gone, those nationalists.
With their backs bleeding, they hush the colonists.
They will crack off rude law decadent.
They had the Neptune, the Trident,
Denote and connote of tall wood.
Oh Delta grey! This is the Deltahood!
Radiate the rare light of the true Delta.
Each of them for each of them to cater.
Engage the men, Delta; each one engage.
And Niger Delta oil , where is your gauge?
73)
Oh Niger Delta lord’s, we are in rage.
In plenty must we lie and live in cage?
A relation like, this soft and clayey,
Reveals your goal, oh Delta, not cagey.
In scent, your men in wet glue with you chart.
In friendship, not that between cat and rat,
Maintain the law which your real God gives you,
Not the bond of lion and the caribou.
Reveal the nod and the odds of your souls.
The soul of the Lamp keeps alive all soles.
I want to smile all the time, oh my home,
Not only that, to make it full home norm.
74)
E’en embryo budding glory , this will hum
To keep me awake all night this line to form.
The promise old ,of the old gods, I keep.
True culture of heaven, this I sip.
As shone when they bathe on the glassy sea,
The premise new of heaven we will see.
It is the caress of sun on the quid,
Where greenly hyacinth and salt lily bid.
We must leap and laugh in joy that this be..
It makes us to rub the juice of the bee.
We must let the Delta others to give.
The Niger Delta other to relive.
75)
The Niger Delta order we retrieve?
Dank, wet and glossy on the honey live.
Then to be one as lone Niger Delta,
Herein here and in the world hereafter,
Hear our prayer and in truth take this, oh God.
Hear proud men from proud umbilical cord.
Hear ,lilies of the continental shelf.
They renew the pain of the self killed self.
In the Niger Delta so much inhere.
Do you call rivers, creeks and lakes here or there?
The beaches sand of the Atlantic reach,
This every good, good day I long to reach.
76)
Yes every good, good meal, I love to dish.
Yes, the fish tilapia along the beach,
Arranged in rows, in curves, and in fine lines,
Like moraines on the arctic to snowlines.
The timber white is like the abura,
All similar to woods of Madura .
These are the true bounties of the country
Nodded to by the voice of Jove , really.
But note: three guilds of witchcraft here inhere.
But note: there are three swords and all fight here.
We can live the dove world for we all love.
As we love, the Gibraltar we can move.
77)
Elations in thoughts put us on the move.
Though we love, though we move , we do not carve.
And From here to the Futa Djallon high,
We pray for peace and hope and do not sigh.
When evil minds take their shape, they suck bucks.
The milk is spilt ; and the dried then comes and sucks.
They fell our timber closest and not far
And keep our oil in some mightiest jar.
So rich; but have we thrown the door open
For them all to take the bread unleaven?
They take our lots and we not give back us.
They teach us to take note of our focus
78)
They force us to remember our locus.
For then we have thought like the Abacus.
Oh Delta, we do greet your religion .
We will revere you for reasons legion.
To follow Epicurus in a quiz.
Brilliant hope in brilliant land shall not freeze.
God says from our back the scale he will peel.
“I have seen your state, the thieves’ trouble deal.
Up, follow me; you will see my radiance”.
The god of truth and peace is our guidance.
“I am God your God, for am everywhere;
Nor me here; nor me there; I am no where”.
79)
“If you know me here you serve me here;
And movement like this will keep your soul not wear;
I am the God of Buddha in India,
God of the many gods in Cambodia,
The Oritse God in Isekiri , this is Horise God in Djekiri,
As this God was called in Egypt.
And Djekiri in ancient world well kept.
This served the mighty God as true self;
The milky way of yore like a golden calf.
They had the power; but are like high slaves.
Their souls are for the maker; them he saves”.
80)
Their souls are for the maker, ways he paves.
And each of this clans to God always craves.
If to the Supreme power he rushes,
He then grows annoyed and all He crushes.
Think hard ,pray well, work hard in unity
My tongue licks all tongues to infinity.
These clever ones we are the leader of;
Within here and there and then far off;
They sigh; they weep; they cry; they do not rest.
Emboldened by the love of peace in quest,
But let’s raise our souls, both heads and shoulders,
In all places like buffalo soldiers.
81)
And in our show as buffalo fighters,
We’ll kick; and box; and shoot like brigadiers.
We’ll drive on, clam and seize the jugular
Of all thieves, if in group, or singular.
And will seize and choke them, any bull that calls;
We are in our land; and won’t serve like stiff dogs.
We live in canopy of divine cart.
Our power is the divine in the part.
Look at the Niger Delta capitals,
No longer are there stealing radicals.
We search the nooks and creeks of same.
We search, we see, we take our very name.
82)
We comb the place to put in place the fame
Like an ice block depository Kame.
When nature reacts, it does so in accord
And thick rains fall when the sun is on board.
The ocean streams play when the earth moves west.
Salt and fresh water, giving starch, we can thirst.
And bulls and snakes co-mix to save us men.
The day break cry of the owl is omen.
Warri, Port Harcourt. Ughelli if mixed,
Will make a bed where all foes will be kissed.
The Niger Delta reacts and all is due.
In this life and life to come all is blue.
Chapter ten
Problem And Solution,
Peace And Development
For The Niger Delta Re X-Rayed
(Honsbira)
The Niger Delta is good to honour,
We, befitting fighters, need to fight.
No, not true benefit as the donor.
Per day, we see the sign of things not right.
For truth’s sake, we must all be serious.
This tendency will lead us to crisis.
We have to jump or leap like pike to cross,
As everyone to every one rises.
The weight of the clan , that thick, is all one.
Thus, they are wont to say we like war and so,
Though in love of the dear land we are one.
The government makes us irate also,
Hidden by a common stay in the cone.
2)
But why, in diversity, are we in cone?
Circumferencing Orere , Yenagoa.
We are joint heirs of our clan prone and lone.
They catch us; are they friendly? Human boas!
The claw of the lion Niger Delta is,
We’re kept in gardens; thorn bushes ripen.
To show the men of vision all the songs of bliss,
In a clan where things dangerous open
Guarded by pale thoughts from afar
And the die in hands of dick who hurry.
We’re made to vomit black things seeming tar.
To our luck all the good things shall hurry.
3)
Things holy make us lucky, not sorry.
All religions chase us fast round and round.
They lash us ‘pia’; want us to say story
They know not that ,pumped balls, we will rebound.
So, with bad taste, we are left to motion.
The sad companies that are uncanny
In tricks and traps most high of concentration.
It is most vexing thing of tyranny.
Our low companies are not in our side.
Ah, the ruse and the tact are in focus;
Our reciprocals much they from us hide.
Oh no! These and the like are the great loss.
4)
Strengthen by Algebra and by Calculus,
The narrow strip they take to our gullet,
To rub our soft hearts which work Abacus.
But they squat on high stools and say Juliet,
Become funny as we rage in age hood
Departing from love pity they do stare
Into our face, into the Deltahood.
As their speed- and and large boats
Speed high, each sings its sweet song, sha sha sha ,
The foe sing scorn songs, ya, ha , yo, hoho
Like those old many men on a dead man’s chest.
When they rob, they rob in pleasure. Oh.
Research in poems to meet up at the desk.
5)
God put us to test; we put them to test.
In our land we are in extremity,
The niger Delta scions in hope do bask
To deal with divide to rule reality.
No one can us contain – not Olomu.
Our gaze bare made; the castle strength, free born.
Nor abled napoleon at Olumutz.
When shall the wicked all be put to scorn?
Yes, when sour order tuns to nuisance.
The Delta has taken odds to measure.
Our people’s wits as they pose on and stance
In name of order she will all culture.
6)
In tunes with order high, it is fixture,
Of the home in its mix a strange colour.
We do not talk as we are wont to do.
As though no humans; we are things or creatures.
To fight to further tame the enemy,
All Niger Delta will ring loud bell,
To dart the foe with hot tears from Mary.
And like a vanquished chased to a hot wall,
And never more to fear a further shame,
Though in a world of greed, he gripped all whole,
What serious story depressed one shall frame?
Oh Niger Delta: now holds the big bowl.
6)
If Niger Delta writes the ancient scroll,
And claims that for this scroll she was born,
And claim that she will all at its side roll,
What can the world say, save pick grains of corn?
But thievish fortune seeking boys shall tell
That closed ears of all who hear it are blessed
To witness aloud the tin, tin rung bell,
In ethics smooth and coat of safety dressed,
In the den of the lion man could speak,
The plan shall rein e’en, if long it takes.
But not weak, the lion seems to be too sick.
And the truth reigns most in midst of the stakes.
7)
They’re stifled, amid the lions in their wakes.
When Niger Delta now throws off her cakes
When Niger Delta casts off the pebbles
Onlookers will feel that is what it takes.
Oppressors say on them we cast our stones.
They pass the gates to the land to peep us.
At times not only flesh can fight, but bones.
“And don’t be slaves in your own land.” “Discuss”.
A Social Studies question to caution,
As good here, stones old colonialism;
A Nationalism in construction
To fight greed, heaped on capitalism.
8)
A political song for orgasm,
And coming up as our fresh resources,
A political song, sung as ism ,
Gather up my strength from many sources.
And with long arrow, you will be yare.
The story is slow of how they scatter,
Coming and going this many an hour.
This frame of stories will never shatter.
They have been out to cut our nature low.
Let each draw his end; the knot to be tight.
9)
We suffered much and long lining the Bight,
In the days of mist; in the min of frost.
The rope of love and care will jackass bite,
The silver steel of our oneness gets rust.
What a message new; we will have our rest,
And sup the fat comb of its sweet brown juice.
From hunger makers hard we want to rest,
To sleep with the pair soft and not to bruise.
May we serve our gods on tall altars and shrines?
Who says we have no God, but these small gods?
Our god is our god – not the asharins
Ah! God has its gods to send – the small lords.
10)
We know all this, but we still play bad cards.
In a nation with a concern for worries
Will serve the God of gods and the Lord of lords.
In new religions you hear new stories.
We are gods to God; we are angels.
Some gentle representatives we are.
We are free with God just as wise Engels.
The memory sweet of love and care are rare.
To one another we say “You will cry”.
We pounce on one, and we seize the other
To such a size e’en the foe says “But why”.
all at once we love to kill the other.
11)
Be it as it may I do not bother,
Oh Niger Delta, I sleep in air high;
Where rivers meet as two they will utter.
When rivers in two meet they say “whuyy whuyy”.
The honour of stressed brother hood rest lay
To counter brotherhood sweet is no risk.
In joy of togetherness don’t delay .
In passion feat, or in ways of intrigue
We with the within and without contend.
This is because we and dear lords’re in league.
The heavens of our hope shall most extend.
What a trick form is this: divide and rule?
Much energy spent until we are pale?
They rope person-person to tear to pull.
Porous might they take away and for sale
12)
Repeat: porous minds our foes do take out to sale
In markets where human wits are not low.
They take our might where demand is not stale.
The long lost state of mouthy minds does not bow.
Good natured children will look back and weep.
Delta sees we are cut off from our niece,
Watching our peace cast into the lunar deep.
Each fat Deltan changes to dried up piece
To riches that destroy we are not kind.
We all glare in adaptability.
They don’t regard here in good way or kind
As they show incompatibility.
13)
We have naught from our wealth , but much fears,
It’s sweet incomprehensibility.
Some black bones fear the cheaters in hot tears.
Like the fear for small girls in Cocotea.
To live the soft crust to a stony state
And we grope; they trace us in devices.
All efforts to get lose seems to be late.
We look up our lean heads in crevices.
Oh God strange chance has made us all we are.
The Delta is not lost let none disdain.
There is one witness; he is the lonely star.
The mind hard dry needs a shower of soft rain.
14)
The Niger Delta may refuse to rain.
This maid day in and day out, always cry.
Good persons are slained; to the land this’s stain.
This’s our day; and why are they so wry?
Why? They see something that they wont release.
They roast our order in the hot fire pan
The eagle Milton thinks of increase
Like makers of milk who talk of the can.
When I came here for the sixty-sixth trip,
A tender boy‘s the Niger Delta whole.
And this’s my sixty seventh and long sip.
It was a home good: God played God’s role.
15)
Oh God! This torn home was a bed better.
She tied well kinds with kids and kind with kinds.
Of this I wrote. I can present the letter.
Will such rains ever rain? Oh lord, he minds.
When efforts to keep all right thoughts fail,
Good epigram will hold all the world round.
And a small group of people it will bail.
In terms of real thought some of us are sound.
The Ijaw and the Igbo as a clear group;
The Urhobo and the Old Isokos
The Ishan and Bini in one fine loop,
In true , league not in twain, with Koko’s
16)
In this league, the voice will be Aroko.
Our navel tapping power from the earth,
They are like basin lives in Orinoco.
The dreams of the gone old ones we can bet
For this and for all else we rise and sing.
The fear of the torn stops not the palms froth.
In face of the birds of the air the fruits ring.
And e’en catches small birds for us in air forth.
The Delta forest is combed for reserves.
She care deserves; who will give this care?
The creeks are oiled that nothing good it conserves.
We beg for care; all we can get is fear.
17)
We call for care, there is wear at the rear.
And tearing open forests, death boas rove.
Some in front of the house, they are too near,
And to fight with the beast, they do not move.
Fine fan shaped bulging bird’s foot formation!
What we have is for us, not for all else.
Oh Delta, your scions are your religion.
Low nature’s lore, are not her lost, for us caress.
When you shed tears, they are timidity.
Big Delta, we perceive each other small;
We worship fear, and not lucidity.
Caged by our brothers to new comers small.
17)
In some ways, I heed no call, not God’s call.
In some ways, I have reasons legion named
In the hall of who won’t see, in that hall,
In such halls the hard dealers will be tamed,
Pressed by the chest of the priest destitute,
The gates are closed, but the doors are not locked.
That is the might and it is absolute.
They want to make us Von Roon, not John Locke
Unwelcome Econs have our day sunken
We call the Delta high for whom to save.
The hope is high, and the roads are broken.
The bird’s foot lords shall save all the crave.
18)
Thick bird’s foot leaders will help us to shape;
The deeds of the ones not whole give us aches;
Like fowl-like men in the days too old, just like Dave;
Control the deep self; that is all it takes.
We look round Warri for one to save us;
The heads of the good cheats do roll aground;
We then move through clean London and to Laos;
Their utterance not good, is only gerund.
This is sad tale to tell, but we have no tell tale.
He who could give us live messed up the lives –
I mean the soul savior that made us stale.
They leave us dry like the honey bare hives.
19)
Where pleasure with love and lore dwells and lives
A little crow not seen is the wicked.
And the land, greedy going fast like thieves,
A little ant, not fat is the crooked.
A time shall come we will rule our destiny.
The land is ours, “Egypt for Egyptians”.
It’s morning, we are still off the evening.
If you like, come, pose like the Galatians.
That time and often, fat ball of fat tears to flow.
Though we weep, we won’t say the reason.
In spinals, sorrow’s salt begins to grow.
It sucks deep so much it leaves our face dry.
19)
Like balls of cat fish ready for the fry,
There’re seven faces and they are all grey.
It happens many years now, ask De Bry.
That time we had a box of hope, a ray.
There was fire on the mangrove red trees,
Cracked faces and coiled to plight unending,
Rough faces brained from their point unbending.
The eagles watch, perched on the mangrove seas.
In pains, in pangs, in trauma, our hopes wring.
As people who would talk of rejection
In heed to greed and lust their bells ring.
As people who all cry of ejection.
20)
We are pinned down by those in elation.
They excess having they use as cushions.
We are pinned down in honest volition.
Our gutless standing serves them as pushing.
We do team up , but to be killed in teams?
O’er good ideas they show no good pointer.
Why store up these ills and ails in our Sims.
An ancient evil note on the counter?
In mad cerebrums sorrows start to grow,
We, oppressed, looking like those who oppress.
I will swim the Niger Delta, will not bow
Of our freedom the proponent to bless
21)
We are gladdened; our nets shall hold them neat.
Exponents of redemption, freedom men!
Those in flight for right do not cast their net.
In the midst of the crooked is too mean.
Some time big headed, others self centered.
Wise thoughts that tend to the truth turn child like.
Life destroyed can make better life bettered.
Truth employed can cure mistruth so littered.
On the whole, glide o’er them like a kite.
The negation laws mare known, and they bite.
Where shall we go from here, oh country men?
There are lots of two strange birds at the Bight.
These seem to near the burst in abdomen.
21)
The cry or motion against domination
Transforms oppressed lots to sour oppressors ;
It boomerangs to self help reproduction,
The true aggressed look like the aggressors.
We are a parrot who has lost the way.
And we elude oneness in all essence.
Time intervention timed shall take the day.
Thus, it continues – milking process!
We will get to see this in thought process.
As thoughts go on and far as a process.
We are like that ; we take it , therefore.
We are like that; though not like that before.
22)
Like lost sheep from the shepherd, we go stray,
We are like monsters, taken off order.
All we do , we have to pray, if in May.
For prayer is our guide and our ruder.
All we pray for is peace, an easy peace.
Being disemboweled, this land is x-rayed .
Receive the price of poor man apiece.
In our big home where for long we have stayed,
The Niger Delta barks and brays same time.
This is philosophy in a new breeze!
It is philosophy of time, not brine.
We’ll follow Socrates to trace this quiz.
23)
We’ll follow Socrates to do the biz.
We hold one tree to rest our hope the oak.
To nourish the oak our power shall not freeze.
As a step in deep learning we will soak,
For the core of the heat has been deep.
The bled heart is fresh; across it the right.
The bled hole is long; into it they peep
And glide past over us like a lifeless kite.
This winged lifelessness we have to undo.
Like sheep, now ,all we can say is ‘alright’
And worse the lifeless winglessness to do.
The taste of the poor turns our land to site.
24)
The heavens and her host for us will cater.
The owner true of the clan will then lead,
The heaven and the host as the leader.
The race and her men in space take the lead;
For before now, here was a home of law.
Oh flash light, oh windfall. But I do ask:
And into here palms for gold do bore.
But in my wringing, I perform my task.
Bind me, sweet nature, to what I think out.
The bat without its anus does excrete.
Yes ,by the gods from within and without,
The Niger Delta craft will more means create.
25_)
The rum of our joy is packed full in crate.
True bloom of the oil for the sons of the soil.
Await the role, comely as noble state.
By the way, who says we are all for oil?
They breathe out fire of envy so cruel,
Grow sick of envy and long jealousy.
The sun goes down in mournful apparel
Like towns of cats prone to thieves, to pussy,
And dots of deprivation losses,
A cone of realization to injure,
A strengthless eye like hay-less horse is.
When sages hung, they do so to conjure.
26)
When sages fast they do so to implore
Make one self more strenghtless in the foci,
The true owners of our fine scene far removed,
To hard focus in hard loci,
Bathe in the dull mud in the lake deprived,
We seep in strength each day we are angered,
Drink from the dirt mud of the lake retrieved.
The looters rub in the loam unfiltered.
We shall sail from port to port like Sinbad.
Where the time ends, the seas shall say ‘thank you’.
Struck much cold, slashed with rays – this is too bad.
Tall houses and tall trees are grown few.
27)
In midst of this race gallants are too due,
And God from our back this scale does pill.
At your back, for your care, we do up queue.
We killed the scorpions, the snails we can kill.
From forehead, below the chest, we are there ,
Do we follow God’s guidance and radiance
Like carrots, our black gold, plucked everywhere?
But with strange laws and rules in assonance.
We have been taking the most bitter chime,
And envy balls all over us do roll.
What we have shows up as part of the clime.
What dare we not say: care, wealth, is it love?
28)
Their shiny leaves sun never caresses.
Who drinks raw blood and hopes for God’s caress?
From deeds like Shylock’s and its excesses
The evil ones of the earth will compress.
They fill not our own purse , but their own course.
But who will make here God’s, save me or you?
As they see us as lasting in their purse,
Save yourself, who will do for you, who?
The more you others try to help, the worse.
Last year, I was at Plato‘s, this to view.
I came home sick with gases as a dose.
The need to lay my palm at the cheeks, too.
29)
As such I do watch with sharp gaze, too.
But where in the true Delta does our hope lay?
Is it in crisis, is it in the coup?
Thus, how, from within, can we get the ray?
Ain’t the ears open being shut by the bow?
Oh Niger Delta, oh Niger Delta!
We give God reasons for our love in row.
Oh Niger Delta, oh Niger Delta.
To live the world anew, is it the cure?
But we’re not made to fight; we’re sons of fur.
We construct our lives, owing to this mood.
30)
Our children along the beach fit the mood.
They think of the clan the home to recreate.
When orphans cry, they think of Kojo Wood
Whose chastity and charity do create.
The Niger Delta stands on a ground forlorn.
Some men who die do not die as before;
They have died as strange men on land whereon
The clinic of the soul is not at fore.
The clinic of the soul has to be searched.
Our spirit medium and seers there for us
They view the Niger Delta, cherished,
Take special note of here like French Saint Louis .honsbira
Martyrs of the Niger Delta
from the Earliest Days
to the Time of Okonjo Iweala
Saro Wiwa
Rue the day that you were born,
Death to love, in piteous scorn,
Sifting sand on wings of time,
Bloody lies so full of crime,
Days of rest that truth was killed,
Wrapped in evil cheaply willed.
Cursed the day that you were slain,,
Dreary curse of evil plain,
Piteous tales are wrote of thee,
Cutting hearts from you to me.
Dreaded tales are told of you,
Blinding hearts with hellish dew.
Blessed the day that you rise up,
Dancing slink like jolly top;
Fetching truth from nascent wells,
Scooping rimes from ancient dells.
Like some men of noble birth,
So we drink the radiant breath.
St Ifa
Chapter eleven
Touching the Earth ,
(dissecting Niger Delta Problems
and Their Solution)
(St Ifa)
Dedication
To Bori-Duaghan , a piece of Shakespeare
Two leaders great, that rule the state with care.
Introductory
My Father ’Gude, my grandfather’s Saint,
Forgive the present stain of your wat’ry van,
With dark rear oil of spoilt lives and land spent;
And rills, voes, brooks, holms, lost in tricky plan
We breathe no more grandsire’s surcharge cool breeze.
Stale oil with lethal bubbles on your water floats,
It’s ugly face – the piteous loss of peace.
It’s muddy paste–a song of fevered goats.
Ogude great, arbiter of lost love!
Ogude great, provider of full joy!
Save now this land with your time healing dove,
And bring its wondrous fruits to full employ.
Save now the springs of our wondrous sweet dream.
And bless our land with your verdant sweet cream.
This poor ménage cram-full with tortuous heads;
This wretched zone where ichthyoid beings swim bare
In sodden soupy swill, where Satan treads;
And callous pale want cast her most grim glare.
Eidetic visions, born of old time pain,
Sad quoin and crux of noble warring tongues.
This neurobiotic waste of thunder’s reign
Blasts us cruelly with all its potent throngs.
Lord Emma comes to calm the olden bite,
The pauciloquent one rides on with care,
Directly choosing times sure way to right
The wrongs: the ills that others dare not dare.
He has promised to do deeds picturesque,
Where our robust wills will stand statuesque
My brothers we live with no cheers, in tears;
Cruel plenteous sufferings our tamed minds do hound;
They laugh at us, mock us with odious jeers:
They smite us low, poor beasts, so much so bound.
We stand behind our fears with timid hearts.
Recurrent fear sits calm, nor good nor fair,
It pierces us with all its lethal darts.
Ensconced in hope, we seek the cool fresh air,
Frothing free as buds in full bloom of May,
That blesses us full with the fat of the fields.
These yields pepped with the joy of the sun’s ray.
Is peace that crowns our harvest with sound yields.
It behoves us much this peace to find,
A robust peace, so sweet and gentle-kind
So sad, so bad, the towns that are swept bare.
As dread as death, the deeds that are so cruel.
Tough times rank tides; the war that would not spare.
In Warri, lone and bare, hot heads in duel
So fierce with blast of thunder ranging high.
Fun times stood trimmed with tunes of singing low.
And lo, we sighed and cried to land and sky
Cold death soft hate, unveils her benign brow.
Their calm coloured as coal caressed the clans,
Offering sweet peace to much a ravaged land.
Rare poetry lulls upon their peaceful plans.
Ijaw, Jekri, to tune of a new brand,
Love singing peaceful songs that me delight,
Yes, tunes so soft that calm my soul at night
Austerely crammed in want, we pine and cry.
We whine the pangs of woe that cramp us low.
Hot tears tear us the salt that robs us dry.
Sore grieved, we cry: “Buho, buha, buho”.
Our sore crammed heads lament the cranky croons.
Doom’s priest lull us to sleep – raw sleep, cruel dreams,
Their sleep of lies raving in heinous moons.
These lies, these pains; false lulls, like truth most seems
Fat as the benevolent moon, well fed
By her sky mother’s fill, is our new cool
And robust joy, with gains of plenty bred.
Our present gains over our past woes rule.
Lord Emma has blot all the pains of Night
Neat clean, with the radiant shine of his bright light.
These meretricious rivers of no worth,
With manful boast of brinish bouts invade
These eyots sadly, as our thirst burst forth.
Our pesky selves are drowned in brackish raid.
Beside the depths we wash our hands with tear.
With throats dry as rust metal blades, we groan.
Mere brooms! We are slimmed in our land so dear,
Where hateful thirst’s pang will not spare a loan.
Calm waters fill our cup-stretched hands to brim.
Sweet embrocation filled with living springs,
Flow in our veins, refreshing us with vim
These beauteous lands with sweet music do ring.
Young lions! We are filled with cool waters blest,
That gives our blest souls the much needed rest.
They have injured the injury we’d injured,
With sores, raw-wounds; blood laced, pain filled; in red.
Like witches they’ve our inmost pains conjured,
Red pains that all our latent evils fed.
Near mealy mouthed, mute to moans we mope.
Our lingoes of woe stand shaking ’tween our lips.
Our hearts betray, detract our minds from hope.
Lean poor estate our wretched living rips.
Sweet coral-red’s, the hue of our new lease;
Untaint sweet lease, our robust hope’s sweet face:
The face of hope, blowing her lenient breeze,
Fresh cool, with the lazing lure of her full grace.
Her might’s the smile the light of the sprite of right.
Righting the bloom of our valiant delight.
“Home coming child, pore not on this poor grin.
A specious laugh, slipp’ry as okra soup,
Lure us now with obstrep’rous pangs of sin;
The arch-bent pythons kill with its cruel loop.
Sweet child, tobacco stained, though my teeth be,
Hunched-back with weights of load, though my want seem,
The bead-laying hens, sucked lean, own we.
She daily dies to feed th’urbs with coral beam”.
“My lovely sire, the cities magic light,
Its steady flows from Ogun’s regal pipe
Pure wool, white teeth, in all her shiny sight,
Will sure abide with us, when time be ripe.
We shall be sate in our land so dear,
When God’s rich hand caress all with care.
Cackle at me, I will guffaw at you.
Blood-red, harsh and stale laughter soak your teeth.
Grim grins, steel-dry, bring our woes to full view.
Raw suff’ring full’s the harsh stale air we breathe.
Deride my name; I will mock at your soul.
We are the slaving monkeys, bent to pull
The wheels of trech’rous carts with baboon’s pole.
Fatigued with want, we curse this ape’s harsh rule.
We shall then laugh, when roses dance with zest,
When violets tune blue runes in joyful tide,
When nature’s songs evoke from us the best,
When work and profit’s lease shall then abide,
When monkey, apes and baboons will live in joy,
Bringing their latent gifts to full employ.
Enfeebled with acute groans in sharp pains,
Enfolded with mundane dalliance, poor sought,
Enforcing strong the pinions of cruel reigns,
Engaged now with abstemious tastes of low worth;
Befuddled much with porcine greed, they dare:
They stole our beads, before our beady orbs.
These poor and hungry eyes san rest nor care,
With bleary stare watch their beads light the urbs.
Sweet rest beholden whole our labour comes
To blot the blight that blinded blunt our minds,
And Emma-like, the fruits of sweet joy welcomes,
The sponge that cleans the hearts of nightly blinds.
Like birds at roost, we shall have requite
When our dear beads shall our remote creeks light.
Full blown, sore eyed disdain and loathsome hate
Greets this cursed wedlock, I see round about.
Misshapen made, full raided, raped of late,
Wondered I much this menial marriage’s clout
Gripping me like mere bitch, a slave for rape.
Red stained with blood, my garments tell the tale
Of broken hymens ‘yond much sought escape,
Where I stood like a whore, a bitch for sale.
The doctor’s hand shall treat my sores with care,
He shall wear me a new gown of respect,
A gown no tooth can deride, sweet and dear;
A virgin gown, unstained, none can reject.
This gown of truth shall be soused with wisdom,
As wisdom smiles, I shall leap with freedom.
You have cramped us so low, oh wicked judge!
Slap-dash, you billed the laws that made us poor.
Beneath our sorrows we pine, mere slave, mere drudge
Cut off from our own, we stand at the door
Of wealth and peep at our state of dire want.
Abuja is fat from our sinews blood,
Languish we yet, in want from hind and front,
This severe blow, backed with a lev’lling flood.
We know now that places of glorious sight
Where sleeping night seems much like beauteous day,
Are results of goodly work and brave fight,
That crowns their joy in all its wondrous way.
Rising sun! We’ll scale the hills to greatness;
And cure th’oleophilic wastes of darkness.
Pure plain penurious people piping poem!
Poor poems! Pathetic parlance of poisoned pulse,
Plucks palmy peace form their pasty phlegm.
The picaroon purchasing pictures false,
Poor pictures, feeding the porcine greed of the paymasters,
The paymasters who pad their pockets full:
Pool full, a pageant play of pagan posers,
Pacing the pale peons paxed in peaceful fool.
Of peaceful pacification we pray.
Oh purple prince, pure pruned in perfect plan
Show our pained plans the perky peaceful way.
Your period shall plant the pure in man.
Oh perfect prince, pure pruned in purple peace,
Pad us with this paean that paves our lease.
Exiguous meals, our tables litter so,
Perilous deals, our sore hearts bitter with.
This oily waste in cruel dark cuts us low,
Steals joy from us, and foils our terrains pith.
Like crazy cows, we hunt the pale-faced ones
The steady ’complice of pot-bellied loots,
Beyond the river great: in house of pawns:
Where they load our wealth in their greedy boots.
With sagely wisdom dropping from the sky,
The sapient one taught us to fish from tubs.
With piscine plenty, we breathe happy sigh.
The gain of plenty our gentle mind rubs.
We lament no more at the city bourn;
And we groan no more with a sullen mourn.
Forgive me Olomu, if I allow
Pale strangers to soil Ebrohimian soil.
Your happy earth cannot accept the plough.
It lays bare waste – a heavy curse of oil.
Forgive me forebear, if I stand aloof
And can bargain not with chalky clans
Whose wicked deeds are all we need as proof
That they are spoilers of your glorious plans.
Your bones are manure to strengthen our land.
Your smiles are sagely and will light our path.
Your blood, the fuel that will power our band
Your robust love will clam our anger’s wrath.
Your sweet palmy oil shall cure all our ills,
Not this oily curse that tampers with skills. *
Our famished land is sealed from smiles of hope,
The beams of former suns that healed the land.
How I wish I could with th’old time elope –
Run far and caress the non oily happy sand.
Our hungry land stares in confused haze –
Near blind from Time’s sharp spears that prick her eye.
She sits amid pale holms in muffled daze,
As she pines her oily waste in ruffled sigh.
We must now water her sorrow paths with care,
And with the sun’s lease girt her for the mart,
Where none will laugh at her old sorrow dare.
With the moon’s radiance we’ll our sweet land crown
And move her ’yond the ken of her old frown.
The sickly face of pale crest fallen sun,
Shine his wan light on the dreary waste land.
Our chanty rhymes with its opaque fun,
Blur blunt, the sun’s torn face with oily wand.
The sun, the land; lament the oily waste,
As osseous ones in struthious mood plant their shame,
Slim shame, rendering people to wanton taste,
In a rich land lost to its former name.
A newborn sun sings bold from window east:
Her chants raise heads from angry lands and rills,
And touches the joyous land with his feast,
With message, hope and songs to glory hills.
This darling sun has come, we’ll drink from the deep
And sing love songs from the soul’s sagely sleep.
This lochial flow: the pangs of our sad birth,
Plague us with needles of carefree mid wives;
Birthing us straight: head on to a muted death.
Paludal wastes! Thin oily hued waste lives,
Stare us bone deep, with their most potent force.
Poor souls, lost dreams; drained lands, all them lament
The sad inhuman curse of ugly loss,
Eating so deep the land – a fine monument.
The quislings of loaned wealth have flown to naught
Salubrious smiles from sacral souls chase them
Beyond the Deltan brooks with deadly wrath.
Mellifluous wind of change smile with the dawn,
The dawn of love that brooks no flowing mourn.
These curls, a serpentine slow waste of brooks
And rills: a sorry sight of dirty plots
From lords combing the towns and rural nooks
With stern, harsh rules, our painful woes and lots.
Plain zestful zombies, zanied with zesty dreams,
We stare eyes closed, our nostrils opened wide
As our full wealth buttered th’orbs with rich creams,
Mad fruits of cunning wicked divide.
Repine we must from this noxious law –
Blind creeds from blinder minds soused with false wit.
Lion bold! We shall destroy this smut and flow
With manful zeal and breath where plenty sit.
Now feel the zephyr calm our lethal woes
Cleanse us from spiteful crooks with odious throes
Waiting pale at the gate of sumptuous wealth –
Gleaning learn-long for saving food of grace,
Poor dregs with helot’s plight scan with cautious stealth
The fixity of plenteous woes in tortuous pace:
Woes that scarce deign to comfort our riposte:
“We are pawned fawns in crazy hands of want,
That eats deep slow our lands, our lives and coast.
Stand we forlorn, removed without a front,
The Messiah’s smile beams forth with healing light,
Salving our souls with lush unquenching zeal.
His smiles brush off the spites of hideous Night;
Filling our souls, our lives with grand cool deal.
His cooling deals, like clouds is the sturdy bower
The shelter strong that shields us in his power.
With Mercy’s hand we must touch this sad earth
Pale faced, from brutal gangs oppressive stare:
A hideous glare, abased, soaked rife with death:
Cruel miasma ooze that sets the land astir.
With joyful fluid, we must bath clean this land,
Thin necked from callous laws with fatal hold –
A wasteful sorry gift to th’ailing sand,
Much angry, sad, unfed, left in the cold.
With happy sweet deeds, we must bless this soil,
With blessings full with sumptuous dreams of life,
A breather gained from all its pangs and toil
Where it will sing with zestful lyre and life.
Love’s face has blest the land with bright shine
And healed the land from whining sigh and pine
Riparian men we are! We board the banks.
We board the muddy wastes of painful gain.
Wealth boards our lives in its most hideous ranks.
As weeping skies, lament we much this plain
Injustice, eating deep our common source,
Injustice, brushing off our steady ties-
Injustice cruel, destroying our resources!
We mourn our lost wealth with grave sighs and cries.
The Messiah comes with vibrant songs of love
Full with life’s peace, he cleanse the muddy shrubs,
The rank odd wants, with his with from above.
His full rich poems are our happy rhymes.
Our inmost pains he cures with his calm might,
Sending us straight to the path of true right
Sad faces doomed to want and evil woes,
Expressing full their piteous state of dearth,
Making their lives sore filled with hideous foes.
Plain want, sore oily land, cruel smiling death
In wasted lives, where manful dreams do die.
The heady pangs of pricking pains scare them.
Exposing their bare lives to weeping sky:
Red in blood bout that binds the deprived men.
Now comes Lord Emma with sartorial deeds
Allaying with glad balm their pangs of pain.
Low pains that barred their lives with piteous needs
In abject woe, where dreadful pains did reign
To them, his deeds are a most wondrous kiss;
Yes, full bloomed kiss with its most beauteous bliss.
Tenebrous lean and sad, the faint sky wept,
Her tears, the flood that fills our creeks with gloom:
Her brine, the foam where our manful dreams slept,
And wake our doubts and cause our fears to bloom.
Like some sad tale, she calls the peeping stars,
Siderial signs of wars, of want of pain,
Of battles lost, sad woes – the pangs of Mars:
Where sullen hearts lament their loss of gain.
Morn wakes anew with sumptuous songs of love.
She sweeps the piteous face of the past suns.
She spreads her sweet hope with love from above;
And her sweet clouds upon the poor creeks don.
The sun of love comes in its glorious day
To chase past suns in a most wondrous way.
Her face like dross to be sold at the mart,
Her back, full bent with onus of plain want;
He legs, cruel scissors that prick sore the heart,
And smash its hope with a most callous gaunt
So ugly faced, the Deltan bourns do spread
Cosmetic beauty of crooked fancy’s tale!
Sore tales where beauteous woes like stings are bred;
Where suffering heads walk slim, most weak and pale
Upon the paled voes comes the saving saint
With sweet redemption songs to heal the land:
To heal the pale faced ones, the weak and faint,
In Deltan voes, in Deltan crying sand.
His regal bloom shall pour forth like rain,
Then shall we smile when his brave reins shall reign
Shall I compare you to the week long rain?
You are much cruel and filled with spiteful hate.
Your callous rain descends with scornful pain,
Its pallid strings transform the hands of fate,
Creating stark want from full abundance store.
Much often comes sweet heaven’s healing balm,
Your wicked rains smash all, from hind and fore,
Without the gift of heaven’s creative calm.
Today the rain of plenty shall endure.
This healing rain shall sweep all wanton tear
From eyes of woe and plenteous gains procure
From barren rains to a land sweet and dear.
This healing rain has come with its full ride,
Giving the Deltan bourns most joyous tide.
Deep in the oily soakt and sickly bourn,
Removed from th’urbs majestic name and fame,
Lay Deltans face buried in shameful mourn;
Buried in pain in tortuous woe with maim.
Like leaves on leaves, lean want on want stands cruel,
With ire, to expedite the pangs of woe.
Like clouds on clouds, fierce wars on wars to duel
Releasing full their blows as martial foe.
With leveling swords, the savior comes with might,
Trimming the heads of barren want with zest
Moving faint heals to paths of seasoned right
Where joyful deeds are with gains of much blest
The saving saint pruned us from fretful ranks
And fills our all with good, our bourns and banks
Discordant voices laden sore with grief,
Bore ears with splurging charged splenetic neume.
Concordant woes slap us beyond relief.
A squillion songs, sure-sore and stale as rheum
Fill us with otiose runes of days gone bye.
Incipient wicked thoughts then filled our minds;
And rude, unpruned, uncouth, sore souls’ sly sigh,
Blind us with blight; smite us with spite; woe finds
Its match. As beams pouring from the sublime sun,
Cool Joy, the light that puts all angst to flight,
Has wrapt up the task that Love had begun:
The work of bliss, blest-full in all her might.
The peace-unwavering calm, sigh of the Dove
The seal of joy and fountain spring of love.
My brothers we live with no cheers, in tears,
Cruel plenteous sufferings our tamed minds do hound:
They laugh at us, mock us with odious jeers:
They smite us low, so much so bound.
We stand behind our fears with timid hearts.
Recurrent fears sit calm, nor good nor fair,
It pierces us with all its lethal darts.
Ensconced in Hope, we seek the cool fresh air,
Frothing free as buds in full bloom of May,
That blesses us full with the fat of the fields.
Those yields, pepped with the hope of the sun’s ray
Is peace that crowns our harvests with sound yields
It behoves us much this peace to find:
A robust peace, so sweet and gentle-kind.
Cruel centuries have slept since our fathers,
Back bent as burden beasts, with sweat and tear,
Laboured lean-long, mere donkeys, mere cottars,
In your fore bears fat farms with loads to bear.
Lean hundreds of sore years snailed bye in pain:
We slaved, we toiled, we soiled, we worked, we cried
In your fat farms, where over us you did reign.
As working dogs, we slaved when thin reliefs sighed.
My friend, we forgive all the sins of Night;
When minds devoid of hope swim in the dark
Dim waters of white lies ‘that might is right’.
We shall embrace the rounds of wisdoms’ spark.
The sins of night we cleanse from our soft souls;
We have trampled them under our hard soles.
Our hearts, filled the woes of life, persuade
Us to now blot the new light of sweet joy.
Our souls, filled with the groans of death, have made
Us to put our sad ends to full employ.
Our brains, sate with the blasts of angst deny
Us now the full groomed bloom of ovine peace.
Our minds, drest with the ire of yore, belie
Us now the bovine strength, that breathes our lease.
The Serpent’s dream of eagle’s brave escape
Rise bold in spirit songs in new found dawn:
The dawn of Joy, when Love saved mind the rape
Of Anger’s deal of blood that cuts us like fawn.
Our new found peace is dressed in robust gown,
The peace unmatched still, is our new sweet crown!
Most callous suff’rings breathes upon us here.
Cruel plagues, officious woes, are our means of joy.
Some osseous ones languish as stupid mare,
The oleophilic loss with much annoy.
Oneiric hopes, sore tales of some sore minds,
Decrypt the awful pangs of their poor souls;
Dickering long in the pain that them grinds.
Their tenuous selves trod with their heavy soles.
Hope comes! Sardonic jeers held fast at heart;
Were swept with vibrant wit of sapient knight,
Cram-full with strength that bluffs all woes apart:
All woes that sing in the darkness bloom of night.
Proud as a full moon in a solemn sky,
Lord Emma’s sterling deeds stand bright and high.
Full with the bloom of gruesome doom, we mourn
The griefs and entertain the pangs of pain.
Abashed with loads of woe we stand forlorn;
Abased with tons of pain, where suff’rings reign,
We are spendthrifts of our sore tongues. We groan
With pains, we whine in dire distrust, we cram
Suff’rings in our small minds beyond the loan
Of our pained stomach’s due. They knaw, they ram
Our frames. The Messiah comes in Emma’s robes.
In cloaks of love comes he, our poorly state
To cure – the lean wants of our salient probes.
Our needs he’ll cure in all our stately fate.
We’ve praised your noble and gentle name’
That has our lowly state now zoomed to fame.
When diverse tongues war for nativity,
Diffractions still, fractious tribes beat upon
The drums of war to cruel extremity.
Unto the songs of death, the drums throbbed on_
Unto the seas filled with fraternal blood,
Unto the martial winds soused with anger,
Unto the Deltan voes reeking with blood flood,
Mad brains were bent on gaining more power!
At centre stage the Lord’s of war did meet:
Eyes fierce as lightning, peers into warm eyes.
Warm eyes, cold eyes; in cold-heat did retreat.
The warm eyed said: “My friend we are in need,
Sheathe now your sword, we can be friends in deed".
Estranged vexed tongues fight for native rights.
With angry bows they blow their bowels dry;
And spite their common bonds _ their common plights;
That unite them with dry sigh and tragic cry.
With canoed houses carved like awful ghosts,
They stared at ghostly shadowed phantom trees,
Litt’ring their paupered lives , crowding their coasts,
As quislings cruel, join looters for their lease.
Behind vexed tongues, abaft waste minds comes life:
Sweet joy that tames the hearts of war with calm_
His sweet sartorial deeds calm them from strife;
And heals their land, their bond; with soothing balm.
They see his voice thin clad in drowning dark,
Embracing them to nature’s primal dark.
Some sable, swarthy, soot complexioned souls
Maraud the creeks, locusting on pawned men.
Their ochlocratic rule of dubious roles,
Make laws pirate-like, reeking with blood mien.
Immured from hope, inured to death, they stood:
Still-calm and statue-like. The pain of death
Poured forth its raw blood’s majestic flood.
The frail pawned ones inhaled some fresh cool breath.
Their flying soles zoomed them to some nice realm,
Strumpetting bare, their new found grace for dough:
“For peons take us; we’ll work to keep the dream.
We’ll clear, rake, clean the filthy grass and plough.
With zest, we shall build a state proud as Rome
While blending rainbow hues in monochrome
When diverse tongues war for nativity,
Diffractions still, fractious tribes beat upon
The drums of war to cruel extremity.
Unto the songs of death the drums throbbed on _
Unto the seas filled with fraternal blood,
Unto the martial wind soused with anger,
Unto the Deltan voes reeking with blood flood
Mad brains were bent on gaining more power!
At centre stage the Lords of war did meet.
Fierce eyes like lightning pierce into warm eyes.
Warm eyes, cold eyes; in cold heat did retreat.
As strings of love, the dove song did arise:
The warm eyed said: “My friend, we are in need,
Sheathe now your sword; we can be friends in deed.
Determine now the son of whom you are,
The clerking rascal’s son of Benji’s clan,
Brave Zion-like scion, or tongues without compare.
Determine now, the deeds of which you plan:
Ingenious pranks, ingenuity’s false truths,
Removing envious peace from Deltan’s voe,
Implanting solemn crude deeds with no worth.
Determine now, sweet tunes the which to toe:
Orphean love runes beaming blue with love,
Celestial vibes unmatched by thunder’s raw
Unkind wreaths of death: the peace! The dove
Serene comes to calm the sad wounds of yore.
She melds the broken hearts with great vision,
Now calm, now sweet; the hearts with great mission.
Some inequalities like plague exist
In shanty towns, the dolmens of sweet woe.
Some familiarities like vogue persist
In shabby towns. Rude houses stand in row,
As rude as forlorn heads in dire neglect
Peculiar familiarity, compeer
Of want, the scion of woe, sires of reject.
Rejects of time suff’ring beyond compare,
Glean long and hard for much expectant change.
Exchequer comes! His beaming smile of hope
Uplifts rude heads to a diff’rent range,
Where they can with his sweet message elope.
“The petrous will of faithful time will calm
Our sore pillaged hearts with her sweet soft balm
The virgin knot of our sweet verdant land,
You’ve broke without lush sanctimonious rite.
Our precious blood is spread like cheap black sand
Upon the crying lands, beyond the sight
Of hope, where our holy hymens gush raw _
The full black blood that feeds the hungry urbs.
Plain wicked marriage ‘yond the ken of law,
Has raped our hearts and our souls, now disturbs.
My friend, you will be fat fed with your needs.
With sweet connubial ties will you be blest.
Civil black laws shall bless your noble deeds,
With prime black law, the joy of your sweet rest.
Brave beauty beams, booming in Ethiope’s black,
Packed knit and bright, prime diamonds dusts are dark.
Conclusion
My Lord great ’Gude, my grandsire’s great neume,
We have traveled to the edge of our songs
We have conquered the muddy land, like rheum
We have severed from the wasted pains with thongs,
So sharp, that pricks your unmatched divinity,
Where we’re consumed in wicked deeds and pains;
That mocked then, your unheard of purity,
Where we’re much stifled in sudden rash rains.
Perform the deeds of old with raging storm!
Perform the works of yore in daylight clear!
Perform the yester works in god like form!
Perform the olden deeds, so bold and dear.
With ever living hopes, bless us this day.
Great Lord, make our fat dreams to bloom and stay
Gregg Akinyomi, Moses Kokorogho, Anna Atumu and Joe-pet for typing this work
Chapter twelve
Niger Delta Environment
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My Immediate Environment
In my part of the Niger Delta, know:
We build our house on water, pillars-raised,
Some, short feet above water, like my own;
Like our raised stilted mangrove forest, praised.
Made with poles and planks, the floor can be opened
To let in baited hooks at high tides.
High tides! Water flows in, the house upon.
You can be told that our fish with us abide:
Each time a tilapia or a cat fish
Comes upon your high way for your high food.
For some yards from the house is the fire wood.
The fish’s dances show joy and me enrich.
In time of low tide, I must tell you too:
The water, rich, feet from here, makes things hard.
Get two hooks on the dry mud; you catch two;
As much of these fish as you need are had.
Tied to your trap, tied to you house, catch crabs.
Yards from the house, you get the tortoises.
These’re good like fish and crab, not the pieces.
Honsbira
The Moon Weds My Mind
Are not mirages only on tarred roads?
For the rain of the moon beams on the Atlantic beach
Gives surer mirages weighty to Olobiri from Orobiri.
At night, the moon’s marriage to the proud beach
On the dome keeps me dead cold all night!
I didn’t know, but thanks to the raffia wall openings.
As I lie back-wise on my bamboo bed after a poetry session,
A group of light like the glory of God on Shakespeare
Poked its dove-tailed fingers into my eyes,
Getting off the bed to see what it was from the horizon,
The moon, like the rich face of God, looked straight at me.
My mix of mind with the moon marveled the viewing trees.
Some threw down fruits to me in joy.
The coastal fishes were joyous to this locus :
The breams, the brills, the tilapia …. Bonga!
And a tilapia in joy leapt ashore.
The moon beams on her wet skin smiled.
The off-shore said: “this representative is representative”.
A pelican drifted long-shore; a pigeon sang off shore.
But owls’ hoot and witches’ kpian kpian made me fear.
Honsbira
The Nuisance
Tiny fish for one thousand Naira! I laugh!
Things thrown back to creeks; like excrement!
In my home town where I use to live;
The name of the town is Ebrohimi.
She is full of fishes, not only ekimi.
You need no trap to catch your fish,
To get the ‘sand’ up to your wish,
Go straight to the shallow water, as women;
Stand astride your shaking canoe, as a man.
Women catch with hands, men, by shaking canoes.
You use your hooks; use no hooks, if in hurry.
Stretch your hands into a shallow hole,
Passing through the planks or poles, raised.
You catch a mud-skipper, if you are unlucky.
A snake before you has eaten them all, if you are lucky!
If there before you, don’t be scared; snakes don’t bite under water.
Their coarse skin jerks your hand into a newer hole.
The newer hole brings a richer catch.
Oh this truth lies my full life, lies my health.
My environment, I love it till death.
Honsbira
History
In those days, when my old dad did live here,
This land, for sure, to this rate, didn’t wear;
O’er river, people in near Orere
Spoke to those far away in Ogheye;
Without the need to cross this big water;
But today, the wide river will ever
Swell up in dunes and crests to chew the banks
And bank up our sand and mud in new banks!
He eats up our house, money and real lives;
With naught; not even our canoes he leaves!
We caught fish in those days, now are gone bye.
Today, we catch not enough fish to buy.
(Or shall we make a manger for Jesus?
These days meet with days of more census!)
We don’t get, reasons are too scientific:
We have learnt the laws, they are oceanic!
The wider the line, the more the means;
The costlier the means, the more our hope lost;
We are kings and chiefs of the Niger Delta;
We are kings and chiefs being led to Golgotha !
THE CURSE OF OIL
1
The curse of oil does blight our swampy land.
Like bubbling brawl of banal battles pours
The curse most sad and oily on our band.
Dentition of false teeth, a smile that bores,
Hangs long on oily tooth like plague that dooms,
Like sore filled heart; a nail stab to the brain.
How long shall we live by the pain that booms
In Deltan creeks, in heady pangs that drain?
Today we shall survive in alien ways,
Like de-winged birds, we shall learn to brave our
New paths on earthly soil on full fat days.
On Deltan soil things strange and new flower .
Must we continue to make our soils boil
Because of land rich, blessed and cursed, with oil?
2
I know not my dear son, don’t stain the soil
With gullies of raw pains mixed with sad hue.
Sore heads shall cry, and from cruel pains recoil.
Sad hearts shall bleed suffused in oily dew.
The oil of doom has rained sharp spears of death
Upon our land. Sharp arrows of sad woe
Pierce our most timid souls, and choke our breath.
Harsh fiend of want comes breathing his craft slow.
Sad hearts don’t cast a long life time of stress.
Sweet happy days shall crown the oily creeks
With diadems of most joyous crowns and dress
Her in majestic smiles, with plum full cheeks.
Our feet march to the hut of happy days,
Where heads of wit will our dazed brains amaze
3
They stand forlorn with heads in total daze.
They stand removed from days full fat and plum.
Confronting minds in angry styles and ways,
Some ghostly trees laugh like one soused with rum.
Hear them: “we shall recede from here with curse.
Oil doom shall bore your land with scourging nails.
Its brutal sprigs shall drain boon from your purse
And cast your hearts and land in bitter wails.”
What shall be done to cure this crazy wind:
When ghostly mangroves place a curse on us?
Will benediction of oil blot the bind,
The binds that blot our lives, the evil fuss
Of oil on sad sure days like most cruel stone,
Like rocks of death in all their evil throne?
4
The artist creates his work from nature’s own.
Receding phantom trees cause fear to hearts,
Removed from nature’s own, from its fat loan.
With pencils, brushes from prime heaven’s marts,
We must breathe life again to nature bare.
We must recreate receding life anew.
How then do we create life in fashion rare,
Removed from the sweet flakes of heaven’s dew?
So Tony Afejuku comes with love:
In his right hand are brushes of fine skill
Blessed with full art with signs from high above.
Like homing eagle with most fervent will,
He wears the Deltan creeks with robust gown
With his skilled brush, he blots her ugly frown!
St Ifa
SWASHES AND BACKWASHES
Hot white swashes and cold mud backwashes
Coming and going these so many times,
Off-springs of soft furrows and high brushes,
Formed gutters and dunes in uneven rhymes,
Your care of and lack of it, for, the place,
Contract and expand me like an earth worm.
Children fell you are all out, to work woe,
Their frantic cry to woe; Iya, Iya’.
Crediting them right, shows you are a foe,
But swash and backwash, were you a slayer,
Those sardines in thee, dinning in a race,
Were hauled ashore –erratic on earth worm”,.
I can wade through the desert without hay.
Dash through the jungle as slave raiders did;
Morocco did so to invade Songhay.
Running slaves through the desert I studied,
I dare bears and deer; waves, grave, I cant’ face.
Winds grind grains, blow sails and give motion a from ,
Winds are good, unlike swashes and back washes,
Coming and going these so many times!
Honsbira
Chapter thirteen
Peace and Development
The Role of Zain
1
Great sleep is silence,
Greatness at times is patience;
Truth in all essence..
2
At this lone moment,
No time for development;
Heed to Zain comment.
3
Ships will soon increase,
There’s in no ship I can’t see;
Zain ,help me call, please.
4
Darling’s call at night,
Use less calls that are not prized;
Use Zain in the right.
5
Thunder claps at night,
But my darling’s call in spite;
Beloved, use your Zain.
6
though there are moon nights,
Beaming in my mind aright;
This Zain is my might
7
It’s no time to fight,
Human ideas are not clear;
So hold your Zain here
8
Is the world ending?
The start of the world is new;
Only with clear Zain.
9
in the world starting ?
The end of the world jumps far;
Zain is hereafter.
10
Through the daily skeins,
Zain progress brush through our skins
To grow fresh and cleanse.
11
The rains beat at night,
The teeth of cold on us bite;
Zain’s calls make me right.
12
Termites do not build ,
They build their hills o’er the years;
And take Zain’s call there.
13.
The income of sin,
To rich thieves in days of pains ;
Zain pays theme with pins .
14.
You come and go Zain,
Going now ito my eardrum;
Reggae beat to storm.
15
. You come, I repeat,
Going out on season’s pit;
My heart does not beat.
16.
The divine secret ,
Is no longer too discrete;
Today, with your Zain.
17.
I know why we grow,
It’s because today we are low;
From our Zain we glow.
18.
I’ll tell why you cry,
The moon’s low tones do not die;
But we and Zain lie.
19.
The sailing morn’s moon
Smiles to the kissing moon night,
Will think on Zain soon.
20.
With the hands so fair ,
I grip hard the years at fare;
Zain and I a pair.
21.
Flames of flower silence
Will lick my bell tomorrow.
Shoot your Zain arrow!
22
my sour method love ,
Injects me with sugared lore
On Zains wings I fly
23.
Her blue moving hips
By night rams cheeringly locked,
Are by Zain unlocked.
24.
Injure our clanship,
Delete the day of hardship;
But we call Zainship
.
25.
At the break of day,
But not the at the brush of morn;
And-------Zain, are these same.
26.
When no rams splatters,
Of the familiar campus;
Greet like Zain at noon.
27.
The unknown surplus
From the familiar campus
Greet like Zain at noon.
28.
I withdraw my ball;
For I try and try and try;
On Zain’s spring I play.
29.
Unlocked love intrudes,
In hours when the rude protrudes;
All love Zain includes.
30.
Books of Algebra
In full exam penumbra
Tamed by Zain’s umbra.
31.
You , great Zain, rule all,
Down all mornings it evens
Ideas rule the world.
32.
The polar bear sings
“Tonight all bears lay frozen…”
But if Zain still reigns!
33.
The writs of Zain line ,
Gazelle-like, kiss my young pine ;
In the morn at nine.
34.
We can dance tonight ,
To sorrow of Zain’s late bright,
For our life to light.
35.
Let me call no men
Oh ladies and gentlemen,
Zain’s dusk you not dull.
36. The wicked plans ills,
The morning of his glowed life;
But him mind Zain fills.
37.
We are city men,
But the bush men are bush men,
Zain with time links them.
38.
Come gnomic thinking,
Last dusk our thoughts were shrinking ;
Zain, I am singing.
39.
But my son , hear me.
But today, few sons will lend full ears.
Hear tales of Zain come.
40.
The holy presence
Of The modern tele line
Of Zain greet my spine
41
. Night, I wake my wife,
From her beloved sleep and deep;
With Zain’s beloved sip
42.
Zain does tell me tales,
(And this news must ring with time)
And gbangan gbangan and rails.
43.
We are charging now;
We have been constant for years;
Zain kisses our ears.
44.
What hour sweet is this?
The sour moments kiss the past;
Zain with us shall last.
45.
Sunday! Oh my church!
Friday! Oh my holy mosque;
Touch, holy Zain ,touch
46.
This maid of orders,
The useless calls disorders,
Zain, kick the others.
47.
Where are you, money?
Greet my life in morning;
With Zain, no moaning.
48.
These days I can laugh;
Time past, I could not , with cough,
Zain doughs me to puff.
49.
Men’s evils at death ,
Lives after death and later;
Zain lives on and lives.
50.
Holy insurance,
Is no time for Zain to work,
Mounted assurance..
51.
Today’s assurance
Is, in truth, no insurance;
Zain has the clearance.
52.
Zain and zoom I note,
This is no day of creed to quote,
Poor growth rates Zain smote.
53.
Zain is the tower,
But this year all is over;
But, yes, but for Zain.
54
our off land riggers
Cut in time from land true link,
Through Zain link the land.
55.
Our hinterland men,
Decades cut from physic link
Pray as one: ”amen”
56.
Thunder speed, is Zain;
Niger Delta, slow in main;
Zain more years will reign.
57.
I like to dash through,
Tell all to be through and through,
All days Zain is true.
58.
No time can say why,
Year and year we all still cry,
Zain will make us fly.
59.
I shall dash through dev,
In the old morn of no growth;
Zain is our growth rev.
60.
Now, the world is gone,
Our only hope thrives in gun;
Call Zain, do not run.
61.
Unemployment eh,
Shame you this day foe to face?
You are by Zain being traced!
62.
Oh development?
Oh where is your implement,
Zain time compliment?
63.
Do not be awesome
In time that life is whoresome
Zain is not tiresome.
64
I woke up with pyre
I dreamt I saw eyes unseen
Zain, is the night clean?
65
. Zain is the shark’s teeth,
It will cut the pike in bit;
Now and ever more.
66
Tree trunk seen by day,
Need no lantern by full night;
Zain, is that not right?
67
Hunger all right blast
O’erfeeding all right don’t last;
It tells like Zain mast
68
Mix the mind all day,
Hunters gun thinks not like him;
Net fish and its fin .
69
. Exchange smile each day,
A fact between the sexes;
Call through Zain, I say.
70.
Now, are on the palm -
Lice being sought inside the hair
Our Zain is in air.
71
Finger nails don’t hung;
Yesterday, today all long;
All Zain calls go long.
72
. Who you’re mind not,
In hours of sincerity,
Oh, Zain reality!
73
Lies told ,Zain is fear.
All days we hear from afar
Our thoughts Zains transfer
74
. The caps for the head n -
Morn or night not for the knee;
Zain’s head takes the lead.
75
. Zain’s a growth seed
Day or night, will not perish
She grows green meadow.
76
It’s the desired line
Coming today to do fine
It’s a desired mine.
77
. Do me no undo ;
That forever, do not do
Zain hates foul ado.
78
Zain is fill like map -
There is no one good enough -
To fill the time gap.
79
She is like the gate,
Day to day sees in and out -
Zain, I talk about.
80
Last year we were loud,
And not at all in cloud;
As Zain spoke aloud
81.
There is actuality
In days of just one com line
Of virility.
81
I love all things stoic,
Burn ills with acid frolic;
All times Zain, civic
82
. Zain is Mirabeau,
Strong and bold in hours of view;
But not caribou
83
My growth claims are due,
In lowness’ hopes fall in dew;
The Zain year in view.
84
Isolation’s bad,
Zain operates like time cabal;
Though, don’t play bad card.
85
. E’en in time of fog,
When lines are weak like bedbug
Zain operates like log
86
All must stay here , oh
Not all of all at ago,
Some with Zain will go.
87
. Zain in ambush lay
We do right as we do play---
To trap anti-play.
88
This day is God-sealed,
To keep us safe in God’s bid;
God - through Zain - indeed.
89
. Where is my Zain, where?
For today we feed on links;
With Zain do not fear.
90
. This is my true ware
To grip to self do not dare;
Zain to all is bare.
91
Some shine without work,
All days not t like glow that glows;
Or like Zain that crows
92
Where I weave my mat,
I do nothing without zain;
A crest without stain.
93
The human white teeth
By me not made, but nature
Are in Zain days fit.
94
Each town must be good
When each and each’s in good mood
Zain will mould and brood.
95
Zain line must pierce far.
Who says so they should not go?
When will it be so?
96
. “Where are you today?”
“I will stay away all day
And Zain, in my hand”
97
. I am full free, guys.
E’en in custody all years,
Zain line with me lies.
98
Zain is my bed.
The useless heads take kernel
In hours of bead need.
99.
All’s by the head led
At morn all pray to the head;
With prayers the heads lead.
100
We are all happy;
Today, all is not so well;
Some have not got Zain.
102
. Cowry’s not for all,
All the time they are for priests;
Zain is all for all.
103
. Pick my call and call,
This day’s not the hitherto;
World Zain, roll the ball.
104
Girls want to look fine,
These days not all souls are right;
Use Zain and be mine.
105
Good heads move with moon;
Good heads not know to the head;
Zain line is ahead.
106
We will look stupid;
On the day we will lose our Zain;
life’ll be insipid
107
All day I’m reading,
And morning and evening;
With Zain all leading.
108
Deep in darkness thoughts
the world is thought not tout
what is there, but buts?
109
The isles of the Ganges,
Faces waves without changes;
Zain time enlarges.
110
.Zain’s a Galingale
At right she’s a nightingale ,
She rules seas like whale.
111
In tears once again.
The morrow is the day main;,
My joy tears in Zain.
112
Communicated!
Though new you are unwanted;
You are connected.
113
. They’re disappointed,
The year they felt we would die,
Zain me protected.
114
Zain serve me two told;
Day on day, she is my stronghold;
She is a sheep hold
115
Loves own certainty
In time no reality
Is bull oddity.
116
. In the later time,
Considered from the present,
Your Zain will present
117
This’s my time of zest,
No time in life is the best;
This time let Zain text.
118
The night is single,
To both of us and double;
Zain song is able.
119
Trace me in the yard,
In all minutes, soft or hard,
This Zain is my card.
120
Dying? I won’t die!
All time, I will try, try and try;
Zain users don’t cry
121
In a single night ,
Your music is not all right,
Fly it like a kite.
122
Full of now is joy!
Tomorrow and tomorrow:
Zain us will burrow.
123
All eyes are on you
Every time you use your Zain,
The crest with out stain.
124
Waters are not pure;
Waters from the morning hill;
Zain gives dew water.
125
In time’s canopy
Play together like puppy,
Zains hummings copy
126
. Zain’s caress, full blue;
Days of death of hate is due ;
Zain network in view!
127
Ohio is not round
When in round world it locates
To be round, its bound.
128
. Headless needless eyes,
My poor Zain line is not poor;
Her mins are too less
129.
Peace, are you ashamed?
Today, we caught you by name;
Your escape Zain tame.
130
God’s inspected work
In time of fair inspection
Waits on Zain action.
131
God’s recorded marks
In com. network time
Wait for Zain who marks
132
. The lion and the bear
At midnight each one does fear
At schnapps does with beer.
133
. You c all the audience
Are the audience does you call
Zain time is the essence,
134
Zains rays real is the
Electromagnetic rays
All valued all days.
135
In the time of joy
Angry low ones will employ
Music like u-Roy
Chapter fourteen
Integrated Haiku
for Peace And Development
1
Bowing to no norm
Niger Delta, I do bow,
Bowing to my home.
2
Sweet Delta, boni
At dawn you look tigh, but low,
Day’s thick; night, tiny.
3
Live big like the rig;
There’s no time to live big;
Zain’s no barren fig.
4
Yes, the night is long;
Yes, we are now near to home;
Zain and near are one.
5
In bright hours twenty;
Dull hours greet our entity;
This is oddity.
6
a year like these glows;
Here each being weak, each then bows;
But Zain smiles and crows.
7
You’ve come soon, sweet love;
None will come as late as you;
Much love makes you move.
8
This season, my dear,
Ceases season, not seizing;
Is this unison?
9
This is Delta time.
This coastal is a strange land;
We are all a band.
10
Must I live to weep?
…or laugh to the union poor?
“Poor” breeds’ goods to reap!
11
Do I have to weep?
Smelling the butt of high worth ?
From tears comes good fort.
12
Wither to, Delta?
It is now your stable life;
Go no where, Delta.
13
My heart does lament
In the noon of good intent;
Zain knows this extent
14
This heart rejoices;
In moonlight in the Delta ;
Tom Polo rises.
15
Reciprocity;
Inconsequentiality;
Seasonality.
16
At this hour, we run,
Hot militants behind us;
We grow sound in gun.
17
Position of love;
In the sob darkness mid night
Is not for the dove.
18
When the rains do fall;
In the dry time of dewfall;
We still roll the ball.
19
Every Wednesday,
Because God shows not each day,
We seek none, no day.
20
Welling Okrika
Of the wettest rainy clime
Makes warmth eureka.
21
They teach me to know;
When to Sunday school I go;
How anti-Christ grow.
22
I must go through Christ;
St Ifa thought me at last;
Time is running fast.
23
To know the Delta;
Especially in the morn;
We keep watch from noon.
24
The very first time
Think of the Niger Delta;
And tight well in rhyme.
25
Our land, wet in oil;
On this day in sore dryhood;
Flows in a richhood:
26
At meal time we laugh;
Our own food makes us to cough;
For fish we take loaf.
27
At ball time, we smile;
Okocha makes us smile bold;
He scores us new mile.
28
Poems are good at night;
They make lovers weep and light;
When we off the light.
29
Poets are bad at noon;
They make lovers seep some smiles;
For they wet too soon.
30
We are men of Pope;
Placed in place for the long hope;
Attached to love’s rope.
31
I dance to night tones;
But our love is in day tunes;
Days and nights are in cones.
32
Where are you, children?
This time, so much is olden;
In a town modern;
33
Maize in fruits at dawn
Turn to fruits that will grow soon;
Eat your food by morn.
34
This is my true year;
We must cry for we fear;
True year, fears end here.
35
Must we our land fear;
On whale’s back and oil to stare?
You tear you oil there.
36
Oloibiri night,
Lights up the broken might,
And facing the knight.
37
That day they assail
In the night of our journey;
For fresh day we wail.
38
Condition bitter,
In winter and in summer,
Talls to be sweeter.
39
I look here and blind;
At all these ones who are too kind;
At all I don’t mind.
40
Two decades I tell;
But there was no one at all;
Boyi rang our bell.
41
The cashew is sour;
When taken every new hour;
Its taste is purer
42
Niger Delta birds,
In the deepest darkest night,
Shoot off songs like buds.
43
One thing here inheres;
In March when there are no wares;
You reap through the years.
44
Niger Delta Queen,
In the raw and wet cold morn,
Raw contests do win.
45
In the day coldest
The warm music tune of Smooth
Makes us the warmest.
46
This land, sweetly fair
Must be by now so unfair.
Dear’s foul, foul is dear.
47
The Delta rivers,
Afloat to brim at this hour,
Lies low for ever.
48
We will be traveling;
But to be here tomorrow;
But then, traveling.
49
Some men without might,
Passing hardly through hard night,
Look, then, like true knight.
50
Niger Delta men,
At times taken for too mean,
Keep power min. on min.
51
Eagles of the west,
Flying only in the day,
Cleans their beaks at night.
52
Some days, hot and long,
Unleash warmth on the cold day;
In streams of sweet song.
53
Confront me no more;
In time of sorrow don’t snore;
We need fight the more.
54
Nine p.m. Last Mon.,
The sun was bright to a fault;
NEPA light, in tact.
55
In the hour of death,
You shall live, Niger Delta;
Life, spanned, tier on tier.
56
In the springs of life,
Sweet Niger Delta, dying,
Springs up, life resumes.
57
Jingle, morning bell;
In deep night about us tell;
Quiet in the life dell.
58
Double trouble ones:
Take care of the weak and calm -
The whole clan at once.
59
To Islam give all;
Ah! We heed no further call!
In days of blue ball.
60
Ladies, cold in love;
In the coldest rainy night;
Let gripped to high dove.
61
One morning, last year,
We were all at home from work;
For we did no work.
62
Thunder flash at dawn;
The tender orphan’s presence
Hardens the lion’s sense.
63
The Deltan moon yore;
In the early midnight lore
Foretells daylight chore.
64
There’s no expiry;
Oil ends at Oloibiri;
A World Without end.
65
In the morning time,
Fresh blowers drop off the petals;
In brightest flower fine.
66
In the eventide,
All canoes are in full wreck;
In full Niger tide.
67
In the un- strange night
The strange ones meet here to figh,
In a world of might.
68
Niger Delta eyne,
Fight our sons in dewed morning;
And on oil back dine.
69
In the even dew,
As doves-pigeons are in view,
The Lord’s Day is due.
70
In the day at noon,
You can also see the moon,
As if it’s in boon
71
Marks of awe at night,
Travels on the way to love,
When roads are most right.
72
Flash of life at noon;
Deltans are on the way to war;
Our roads are not prone.
73
Turning bitter round,
I hear sweet voice ten p. M;
To bed I am bound.
74
At night in the rains
Delta fire light up my soul,
Erect like a pole.
75
Weakness we delay;
And looking out for our right;
And strength to relay.
76
In the time of walk,
As sweet weaver birds do work,
We look, to earth, stuck.
77
One will not, now die
Of neocolonialism;
But play at the die.
78
Poor a year after,
Richly dewed in hundred days,
Richly carved Delta.
79
Fresh light this day shows;
In a mist I do not know;
The misrule is low.
80
The tide greets the morn,
They kiss the early morn’s mourn -
Mourn for the lost corn.
81
Place noon industries,
On the morn agriculture;
Watch growth in series.
82
Change agriculture
With industrialization;
Next noon, growths rupture.
83
The tide of evens
Reminds one of far heavens;
They are in sevens.
84
Twinkle, twinkle moon;
The night rains will come, and soon;
To green the whole zone.
85
E’ en in custody;
It’s free time in Lombardy;
Look like Cassidy.
86
Look like Cassidy;
Not higgedly pigliddy
At noon, like Eddy.
87
True Delta’s greedy
In bid to save the needy;
In this year really.
88
When the morning comes;
Things at dusk the mouth will name;
Then you are gladsome.
88
In moms, like Eddy,
Be up to help the needy;
For one day only.
89
We are gladsome;
But now we are not handsome;
At fat we are some .
90
Pray for help from high;
Field on the rich cake and rye;
But pray, day by day.
91
But pray bye and bye;
Prayers alone will not try;
But pray, do not cry.
92
Do pray do not shy;
Don’t pour off your salt to dry;
This day of De Bry
93
It’s time to decry;
When no one shall ask you why;
Just say “God lives bye”.
94
In deals with daddy;
In harsh time of malady;
Keep your soul ready.
95
Keep my soul ready?
For today’s leap so hardly?
Be in your study.
96
The morrow is now;
So, all should be set today;
It’s today we know.
97
In time of real woe,
Hot heads are the best of them;
They spill blood of foe.
98
In May, in real peace;
Mild men cannot keep the bliss;
Fight and bring real kiss.
99
Can it ever be?
But at noon, we like to see;
What is thee is thee.
100
Contents of this year,
Will be off loaded in next;
Now, run to your nest.
101
In the rain as high;
When on high thirst we do lie;
wet comes from the sky.
102
This year the sharp spear
Would fear the fishes to pierce;
For we are with them.
103
The landed property,
In those days of no party;
Was of no duty
104
In the long old days
When stumped ownership stood tall;
Long and short were all.
105
Our men of the soil;
So unidirectional;
Differently kiss oil.
106
Gripping in two forms;
But mono directional,
We pursue oil norns.
107
This place, fair, but foul;
Is at dawn, too foul, but fair.
Contraries are rare.
.
Appendix
In Honour of the Metaphysical Poets
The Far Removed(Exploring Insanity)
1
They light the torch to find the moon at noon.
Like hungry eagles that browse the bare wind,
In search of prizely prey, they pry from hind,
And van rare peace that dwells with the prinkt moon.
Their hungry souls search peace that might come soon.
As Shylock lords that grab in cash and kind,
Their stealth peace search does bore their sickly mind
Like sickly owls their souls tune their sad croon.
The trees sure dance when winds tune our souls drum.
Sweet nature sits( a king in our prime land).
Peace comes to us like droughts of frothy wine,
Like foams of seamless vine of prime rich rum.
Why search for peace in brooks of alien land,
While vantage peace breathes full in trees of vine?
2
Fresh water is their bore and soulful teen.
Flies on a fest’ring wood, they search its sign –
This cooling deal on throats of aves and kine.
Why can’t the tunnies of search calm their mean
Ungentle throats with eau from voidless green?
Bacterial fears are books for mean design.
They fear to drink the liquid of rich wine,
Hence, they go parched and groan in portions lean.
Long have we known that waters of full life
Are got from nature’s bounty and full breast.
Nor viri nor bacteria with strange mien
Or fleeting flaw can count their brains full rife.
Lion bold! We jolly in our soul’s full fest
Untouched by sun that casts her westward ken.
3
With rants and aches they chant their gruesome cant,
As broiling hearts lead them to savage broils,
To bow-like fears to aching shouts and toils
Why groan they faint in endless sigh and rant?
He lies unmoved, untouched by mournful chants,
Of febrile souls with not a name to soil,
With not a care to give in time’s dread foil.
In files they wail like many a grieved ant.
When death strikes its sweet blows, we tame its dirk.
When she strikes its sweet blows we grin and laugh.
We jolly well at its sweet kindly mien.
Like most obedient dog its blows don’t irk
Our little strands of hair: the smooth or rough.
All must surely die: the wily beasts and men.
4
With ease the fiery pangs of febrile flush
Greet their sad eyne. Their blush I can’t assay.
Heads dazed with boredom with ire of spent hay,
Like churls and groundlings soaked in want’s cruel brush.
I can descry their orbs of brine : its gush
In tiny droplets like mint gold at play.
With beauteous rays full bloomed like buds of May.
Sad tears of death will not their sorrows crush.
The barmy headed ones fear its aweet hand.
Its saintly foils level the grass and sedge.
Its benign dirks do discommode the line
Of gruesome chasm betwixt the sky and land,
Betwixt the sane and those at life’s sad verge.
5
They stare at open space with bottled eyne.
With glassy mood stare they like seamless sky,
That throws exhuding shine to lands both high
And low, to land of beauty bare, or fine,
Where rare emotions sing with love divine.
Yet sights from glassy mien tame not the eye
Of soul that reads all moods of glassy lie.
From stonelike minds in search of false design.
Our bare eyne feed on succous dew of earth.
Our blind have souls botched with the pearl of light
On swart night skin of Ethiope’s benign smile,
Which sieves the joy in life from life’s raw mirth.
When age comes with flakes of grandiose night.
We shun their bottled eyne and loony wile.
St Ifa
The Nature of Death
Introductory
The nature of death; what is the nature of death?
The colour of death; what is the colour of death?
The odour of death; what is the odour of death?
The texture of death; what is the texture of death?
The shape of death; all these are the shape of dearth!
Honsbira
1
Death Shall Die
I have strategised, like Napo Naparte
Resolute, and indeed, never to part.
To trace the stronghold and refuge of death,
And deal death death-blow to rob him of health.
My thin wire shall slant with the ‘Manjaro
And there to peep up like the Kangaroo,
Sip bitter energy from the ether,
And sweet resistance from the Lord’s altar;
Watch with steady eyes like towering eagle,
Catch death, weak, soft, like Cassio by Iago.
We own the power to the wire, back, back home.
There ancient hot power resides, at least some.
Home of the ancient – some of these, Nana.
Weak death is hardly hard; and now, now,
I’ll switch on the switch, of the fiery current
Up above ‘Manjaro to trap , to rent,
In his journeys in search of man, this bat.
From point to point of the four points I dart –
It’ll kill him , this connectivity.
It’ll push him to his nativity.
Honsbira
2
The Colour of Death
In truth , death smells; but what is its colour?
This or that? What’s the colour, not odour?
Black ? all others arranged? It cant be white;
It cant be block, for black is always right.
Doctors keep awake at night, death to catch;
And ish, aish, ish, aash, doctor! Oh! They shout,
Calling so for help they, too don’t know, no doubt.
When morning comes pigeons wake up singing.
At night, the owl will say hwhoo, praising.
I asked Day what the colour of death is;
I asked night what the colour of death is.
Oh day, green, and tinted with brown like yours?
Oh night, “is it brown with black eyes like yours?”
No answer, and pastor “What do you think?”
Pastor said: “I don’t know who quests will sink.
In the mosque, Mallams stare and they holler:
We conjure; we won’t construct, Allah”.
Of what colour is death, in our cord?
Nor black nor white: Death is the breath of God.
Honsbira
3
The Odour Of Death
You know the odour of death. Does it smell?
Why do we fail so low death to quell?
Away from shapes, hunt dogs through the odour,
I have moved to catch games, not through the colour,
Beside shpe or colour odour is real.
I don’t know what you and others feel ;
Do you remember the day Adam died ?
Unfamiliar odour came as if cried!
He waited for death; it came unheralded.
Death’s odour and Adam’s fate coincided.
Death is mixture of odor that’ll not fuse;
A mixture of gases which do not fuse,
Each has its weight its pressure and its smell.
It’s so in mixtures, no matter how small.
No: death has odour in shape with ailment.
No: death has odour put forh by its ointment.
As Deaths’ odour comes in , children will cry:
“Mummy, Mummy ,oh Mummy: you will die?”
The killer of death passed through Bethany,
Crying “Eli …lama sabachtani”.
Honsbira
4
The shape of death
A far note was sent to me by Plato.
This, my very open eyes have read well
Days pre-letter, this shape no one could tell,
The sanctified text sent by Lord Santo .
It hardened me to speak of shape of death.
Is it sharp, long and so, like an arrow?
Shining like earthworms tapering to burrow?
Here and there, it rolls to, and from, the earth.
Is it sharp, long and flattened, like the sheathe?
Is death round and so, rolling like time ball?
That is, rolling and bouncing to all places,
To tie legs and rope necks, like laces?
Deaths jump in well and push all to the wall;
Dare to rack and crack and then, to fall.
Like a car careening the lanes of the road,
Death’s shape is a million side polygon –
Its leaches and affects millions that are gone.
It’s a meander in creeks and streams like blood,
With eyes too bulging , but points , like rod .
Honsbira
The Feeling of The Insane
All land belongs to us who must march it;
He who counterclaims will his part forfeit.
It’s who own the land who march it much time,
Any day, anyway and any clime.
They say they own the land, can they prove how?
We walk at night; at night, they run like crow.
Ah! That proves them alright, they own the land.
Land on which all the time they can not stand.
We are mad, but yet can walk all the hour.
To the world view, can stand at the tower.
The sane are all ingrates, big ones at that.
Our night walk , a guiding spirit ,in fact.
Hard robbers see us and away they fly.
Armed robbers hard in whose arms they could die.
When their watchful dogs see us and so bark.
(Dogs yellow eyes pierce far into the dark)
They hear the whoa whoo and so runs! poor thieves!
Then , man will say “if” – many, many, “if’s”.
All lands belong to us who are insane.
We’ll cover it up as with lion’s mane.
2
I Pity Sanity
Not minding what they say, I pity them.
They see that we the simple are mad men.
Lord, what a hot hell of witchcraft is this!
As men in their angelry and in bliss
Roughen the place through rough sociologies,
Like fish which degrade their ecologies.
They mark us in pictures as derelicts
Which view with our pure nature contradicts.
Not only sane men, the world is not clean –
Hiding gecko knows not its tail is seen .
Their lying bliss has power to charm the sun;
They eat our corn , for into scorn they’re born.
Sane men see us and shake their heads low,
Invoking the gods to look as us, oh.
When pity on the head of pity mounts,
For as we pity men in their own count,
We pity men for their roles and their cares
Hominem miserum, oh I do fear.
Then it is error and counter error,
That is mild horror and counter horror
Some Time I Laugh
Sometimes I laugh which laugh they say is mad!
Most time I grow naked; this they call bad!
Most time I laugh; and it’s laughter indeed.
Sane men are abnormal intheir self bid.
They are hateful, crude, rude malicious bulls,
Feeling they rule the world, nature rules.
No bastard dogs ever eats god damned dogs,
Treading on thorns they see walk on rugs.
Relieved in fact like horses without reins;
Like rays of sun on Bobi after rains.
So much they see; but so little , really,
Love us not , but love the world dearly.
With the lame in their midst , they sing and laugh.
But do we laugh at the lame on them cough?
Sanity delights in spiting and scorning,
And so the rope of their long life burning!
Lord, help them out; this trend I must counter;
Men are mad; send them to the space outer;
Our worl must be free to us bye and bye.
When the low groans , who is left out to cry.
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