EVEN ODDS~

(LIGHTS)

He stands alone, with his fixed eyes too wide open.

NE He suddenly shouts out loud.

Father curse my grave not
For tried have I to crack this nut.

BI She walks in gracefully and glares at him; smiling mischievously and hardening her expression.

Am I to be proud of your throne?
Or grieve for you, brother-stone?

NE Shouting even louder at her.

You bleached witch!
You’re a cursed bitch!

She eyes him.

She has no tale to say
Just poor hearts to slay.

He faces her sharply.

And if I lie, say your tale, cat!
Let us see if you own a heart.

BI Turning away from him.

A heart no different from yours.
One just as weak, it even pours.

It’s hard as stone
As it stands alone.
It is as dry as heat
As it exists to beat.

It is a wound
Another foot found,
When it feels cheated.

It’s like a Dove
So faultlessly in-love,
When it is forcibly seated.

NE He walks away with a thoughtful expression. Stops and faces her.

No! It just weeps,
Wails with tears.
And that is all it keeps;
Tears, like all its peers.

BI Facing him too.

But it suffers
Like many waters.
Its say isn’t first
So it cries in hate.

NE But can’t you see,
That’s how it must be?

BI A free soul knows no must.
When it does then it has lost.

NE Our nature left it so;
Fathers let us know.

BI Shouting.

Can’t you see it made me weak,
Just that feeble fault to seek?

Calmer.

He has us where he wished,
Ready and ripe to be dished.

It was what he sought for
And we all let him score.

Can’t you see his said bit?
‘If you can’t have it, kill it!’

Pauses.

Can’t you just see?
He wants to kill me!

She starts to sob.

NE He briefly waits for her to stop sobbing.

No my sister, it’s not you.
Neither is it both of us too.

Look at all the past, then the future;
You’ll see it’s me he must puncture.

Their eyes meet.

BI Your meaning;
It’s still hidden?

NE He moves closer to her; giving her his hands, but she ignores his hands. He withdraws his hands and folds them across his chest.

You look but see you can’t;
It never ever was your grant,
Destined to sit on a low stool
To work like every other tool.

To sit and milk
Not stand and think.
To kneel and cry
Not pull and try.
To weep when hurt
Not mend your hut.

To sew old clothes
Not make new hoes.
To wash all the dirty
Not face any scary.
To carry pots on the head
Not protect a whole herd.

To bring water home
Not blow the war horn.
To sing at all feasts
Not kill the beasts.
To hum kids to sleep
Not hold a firm grip.

To stand-by always
Not seek your ways.
To dance merry days
Not care who pays.
To smoke the fish
Not provide the dish.

To cook the meal
Not make the deal.
To stay home and wait
Not worry about a bait.

He places his arms akimbo.

BI She lowers her eyes.

You never miss an opportunity
To question my sexed humanity.
Is it because I’m the woman?
Or because you’re the man?

She lifts her face again, but their eyes do not meet.

I was born many years after you
And that the land knows is true.
But if it were maybe the reverse,
You still wouldn’t be better in this verse.

She hisses.

NE Sternly.

What is your meaning?
What is it you’re saying?

BI Or is the meaning too hot
That you choose to ask what?

You don’t find it charming
So you’re instead pretending.

Louder.

I know, oh fearless bear,
As I say words you hear
I never fail to enrage you;
Even with nothing yet new.

NE Almost choking with rage.

I think your outstretched madness
Is beginning to double in hardness.

BI Laughs curtly.

Mine I believe is better.
O, by so much further.

And if you wish to know
I am so willing to show.

Raising her voice.

I wouldn’t have let you have it easy,
Like your betrothed so stupidly did.
I would’ve made you so very busy,
You wouldn’t recall your every deed.

You ran away quickly then;
Hid your face like a Rabbit.
Yet you claim to live in a den;
And killing your inherited habit.

I’ve always said she let you;
For if she were anything like me
And if she had my nerves too,
You would’ve felt like you see.

NE Looking dejected.

If it was anything,
It wasn’t my doing.

She wasn’t as stupid,
As our cultural deed.

His expression hardens, anger lining his brows.

I know all their believes;
That I cowardly gave in.
As the pressure conceives
My guts just went all thin.

Isn’t it?
Wasn’t it?

He faces her.

I just let him take her?
I was so scared of him.
Or I didn’t want her.
So I left her for him.

Isn’t it?
Wasn’t it?

He turns away from her.

If I wasn’t hindered by the thought
Of what her mean father would do,
If I made him loose all he sought;
I wouldn’t be stuck with just you.

His anger visibly increases.

Because I won’t take it cool
She drowned in her own pool.

That leaf was the prince by birth.
To her father I was just mere dirt.

His whole body shook with his anger.

If our father hadn’t succumbed to his father
And I was king today not that tiny feather;
Not even the sun will reveal
That I do choose to conceal.

She backs off as he faces her again.

And this day my very own blood
Stands in the wake of our sorrow
As I try saving the flightless bird
From schemes against her morrow.

He approaches her.

Not caring if it pains my honour
That she managed to get involved
In our eminent clash of armour,
Or if she had me partly devoured.

She attempts to dash off but he grabs her arm.

Of what use is your life
If it is the cursed knife
They will use to kill me
And forever dry my sea.

He pulls her by the arm towards his sharply. She struggles to free herself but he grabs her throat, one hand at a time and tries to strangle her. She frantically tries to fight him off as she starts to gasp for air. Suddenly he pushes her away, looks down at his hands in disbelief. Regaining her composure, she starts to laugh; softly at first and then mockingly louder.

You’ve every reason to laugh I agree
Because you just narrowly escaped
Your just penalty with every degree
Ever possible for one so ill-fated.

BI She massaged her neck.

Far from it my brother,
Is why I do bother.

It is just that I recall
In the past not so long

When our own old maid
To me she had once said;

“Beware of this devil,
He is full of every evil.
Yes he is your brother,
But I see what is further.

“And in days more in front,
With an expression for hunt
And hands on your throat
He’ll squeeze out your thought.”

She smiles thoughtfully.

She however forgot to say
If that will be my last day.

But as you held me not long off;
As I heaved and gasp my last puff,
I thought it had come to pass
As my life dried up like grass.

It makes me laugh for I know
That even if you knew how,
Unlike every other manly soul
You can’t strike a killing hole
In the heart of even a dead being
Long banished for a terrible sin.

She pauses and turns to face him.

Not to mention a strong living one.
When it comes to guts, you’ve none!

She suddenly slaps him and runs out.

NE Yelling on top of his voice.

You mean forsaken lone whore.
Aren’t you the problem I foresaw?
Didn’t your work cause the worry?
Yet you still hold back your sorry.

He begins to pace back and forth.

If only you chose not to sleep with him.
You knew it could have been a scheme.

You, yourself, mentioned it so to me;
You called my attention to look and see.

You said we had them where we wanted
And we could also take them for granted.

I warned you to forget all about them.
I told you not to play their icy game.

No! You would not listen.
Because you’ve this thing!
You claimed he’d get hooked.
Now look who got crooked.

Of all the many tricks in the world,
They pick the one with the best hold.
And now you carry his child,
Without shame for your pride.

For all our old honour’s sake,
You knew what was at stake.
You knew the king had sent him;
You knew it had to be his scheme.

And now look, just you look!
The worm is in its own hook.

He looks at his bare feet and shook his head.

Heaven know I never liked the boy.
What was his name again, the toy?

He starts to pace again, faster.

He is attractive, oh yes.
You won’t settle for less.

He planted the seed of his manhood,
Settled back and saw his work is good.

He puts in you his fruit;
Swore it wasn’t the truth.

And I bet this very day his master king
Is presently knighting him with a ring.

He stops pacing.

Now the land wants your head
For it isn’t so seen or heard,
That the unwedded is so heavy
With such an unclaimed baby.

He calms down.

Our culture has it that way
And so you just must pay.

Why should you have risked it;
When you knew you’re the hit?

Shouting again.

Now I can’t even explain
Why I must have my claim,
With this thing still hanging
And I must start haggling.

Everyone knows this very well,
I won’t forego mine even in hell.

That throne is my birth right,
If only grandfather wasn’t a mite
As to gamble it away in a match
And die like an egg yet to hatch.

And softly.

If only father had the might
To really stand out and fight.

She reenters slowly and their eyes meet.

And just when I had my own plans
To get my throne back in my hands,
You put to risk efforts to regain the lost
With your disgusting, selfish, sexual lust!

She looks away and he does the same.

And what has her shameless mind decided?
Is it to wait for the bulge to be all sighted,
Then act as it is to be expected of her,
Which is to be married to the owner?

He starts to mimic her talking.

“Oh, that will be if he agrees it is his.
Then he will have my dear little sis,
As his most honoured wife to keep;
One he’ll have within his firm grip.”

He looks at her.

Is that the way she will go?
Is that then what she’ll do?

BI Still by the entrance; she lifts her head, their eyes meet.

You know my anger as well as I.
It isn’t because he chooses to lie.
You also know I wouldn’t allow
A situation where that baby cow;
Who claims he is king in these parts,
Can control me like one of his cats.
I won’t let him tame your just effort,
For it is your right you duly sought.

NE He smiles.

Now you tell me,
Now your eyes see.

BI She looks away again.

I knew all this while
And I also saw it pile.

NE With distaste.

Now that you really think,
You wish to make the link.
You know your only chance,
Which you set out to enhance.

Now that you just might
Lose more than your sight.
You settle for the available,
Since others aren’t obtainable.

BI Still not facing him.

You do me great injustice
And you most truly notice.
I’m your sister, my dear brother.
We’re of a same single mother.

NE And the very same father,
One who surely do matter.

One who valued his armour
As he did his sure honour.

To his blood you bring disgrace,
Which source hasn’t a family trace.

BI Now turns to face him.

I stood here and heard you tear me,
Lashing my sex from every degree.
You know I am what I was made
And my future was all you men said.
If I was to remain ever honourable,
I was to remain as ever controllable.

Slowly walks up to him.

I was destined to sit on a stool
While you alone went to school.

I was to sit down quietly to milk
While they only hear you think.

I was to kneel down and cry
While idle they let you fly.

I was to weep when hurt
While you tear out my gut.

She smiles at him.

I was to mend all clothes
While you look for mangoes.

I was to wash everything dirty
While you enjoy making them filthy.

I was to carry pots on my head
While you relaxed on your bed.

I was to bring water home
While you never leave me some.

I was to sing songs at feasts
While you ate the best of the beasts.

I was to hum the kids to sleep
While you made their tears drip.

I was to stand by them always
While you went away for days.

I was to dance on happy days
While you emptied the trays.

I was to smoke the fish
While you made your wish.

I was to cook every meal
While you ate to your fill.

I was to stay at home and wait
While you stay out ever so late.

She looks away thoughtfully.

I guess that was how it was to be.
It was how I was taught to agree.

I was to be brought up a wife
And you the bold feeding knife.
So if indeed we really do differ,
There is no real cause to bother.

They are both silent as they stare into space.

NE Turns slowly and stares at her back.

That is the least of my worries;
Worrying brings me no glories.

Let nature shoulders the blame of the past
And the future, all that of those who last.

I will do what I must for a course,
Not because you are some curse.

She turns to look at him briefly and then turns away.

I remember so very well
As father left for his hell,
He shook his grey old head
And swore his hope is dead.

In me he saw no good future,
He saw someone not mature.

But to him I swore as I wept
Till this time such I’ve kept.

I wouldn’t if I had my way,
Yet I do to make real my say.

She turns to look him in the eye.

BI I pray we indeed have a divine fan.
I fear this is too much for just a man.

NE And what to man is more divine?
Would you please kindly define?

BI A God perhaps, or more.
A being whose way is sure.

Suddenly with such vigor and enthusiasm.

A God like the old lady ever says.
A God with the most holy ways.
A God so good to such a fault.
A God who ever knows no halt.
A God who guides the confused.
A God who has never refused.
A God that will always wait.
A God that has an open gate.

A God so full of every power.
A God as great as every tower.
A God that will not just fight.
A God that gives sight at night.
A God ever rich and so pure.
A God that has a real future.
A God full of all that is good.
A God that gives spiritual food.

She looks for a reaction in his face, he smiles at her.

NE I must say; a true believer.
Or rather, yet another deceiver.

He lets out a short laugh.

You forget that she was also my maid
And everyday of my growth so she said.
However unlike you I used my brain,
For I also remember her story of rain.

He changes his voice to a weak female’s.

“We cried and cry,
Prayed and so pray.
The wind will blow,
Our tears will flow.
He shows his pity
To every tiny city.
And comes the rains
To let out all grains.”

He laughs again.

There is no God but gold,
Like beans is always a pod.
There is no means as might,
Like not a sight without light.

He grins.

And that my lovely holy dear,
I tell you without reservations;
Is what I think of her grey hair
And her silly, weird resolutions.

He laughs louder.

Like everybody else
I act on my best sense.

I may cry when I’m sad;
Bite my nails when it’s bad.
But no matter how they try,
My joy will keep to the sky.

I have searched thoughts of earth
And heard great tales with strength.
I am yet to solve so many puzzles,
My heart roams in empty bubbles.

If I am to know any peace;
Not just its soothing breeze,
Then I must open all my holds
With my mind soaked in these words;

‘Only when the bubble burst
And every known evil has lost
Will I bow and share my mat
With any being with all my heart.’

She remains quiet as he exits slowly.

BI It must surely make him hurt,
For from the day of my birth
I had been of another path.

Thoughtfully.

He now laughs at me
Because he can now see
What my sure fate will be.

That old maid’s God
Made my soul so cold
And I do feel all sold.

These feelings I didn’t know,
They’re contrary to my own;
Feelings I have never known.

Painfully.

Though I knew from the on-set
I was to foolishly allow and let
That proclaimed pitiful royal pet,
Hurt my swelled up firm pride
And make me run away and hide,
For never will I be a proud bride.

Our archaic heartless custom;
Which we are yet to overcome,
Separates me till my end come.
It is the same faceless culture
That has managed in its nature
To render us all so ill-mature.

She places both her hands on her head dispiritedly.

It all has me by the edge
And I can hear the sage
Announce the end of my age.

She sighs visibly and placed her hands akimbo.

And what has come over my mind,
For I am speaking like a tender tide?

It must have been the old female,
Who had cast on me her own spell.

She let her hands fall.

I am no one’s game,
To so cunningly tame.

I have lost to no one;
I had a contest with none.

If there is any justice,
I’m sure it takes notice.
For my sake as any other,
It shall bring all to order.

This isn’t a supposed dream,
Though it sounded a scream.

Words will give courage
As situations bring rage.

Shutting her eyes firmly, she frowns.

Songs of my naïve stupidity,
I am loosing my own sanity.
Or has it been lost for long
And I’m singing an old song?

NE He storms in angrily, startling her.

What is all these I hear?
Can’t I run things my way?
Who orders around here?
Am I not with the final say?

I see you let the old one leave
And it isn’t even on some errand,
For all she owns she didn’t leave.
What is all this I don’t understand?

BI She appeared surprised.

I surely did no such thing!
You’re wrongly informed.
I didn’t know of her leaving,
Nor her purpose mentioned.

NE With a bewildered expression.

If I say I saw such a thing,
Then truly so did it occur.
Go and see if I am mistaken,
Pray so in your heart’s core.

She hurries out and left him pacing back and forth. After a relatively short quiet while, she runs in panting.

BI I call but no one to hear.
There isn’t a soul there.

NE He continues to pace back and forth.

Please allow me to think.
Don’t let your heart sink.

She falls to her knees in resignation as he stops pacing abruptly. He steals a short look at her and smiles broadly as she looks back at him inquiringly. He remains quiet and suddenly she gets up and attempts to exit again.

Woman, bother no more and hear.
It is so obvious we are alone here.

BI She stops and returns.

We should go out and look for them.
If you won’t come I’ll go alone then.

NE He grins.

Can you not for once just listen?
Escape chances rarely heighten.
It is missed again and yet again,
Then gotten back again, as is pain.

Listen to what I am saying first,
Must you think you know best?

She hesitates but still exits.

The confused and ignorant fool,
She’ll swim in her blood’s pool.
I wonder why she can’t see it all,
As it stands before her so, so tall.

The poor, poor child,
Really needs a guide.
If only she’ll accept
This so plain concept
As it spreads the fact
Before her so, so flat.

It’s simple to recognize
But not to also analyze.
A child comprehends
Sleep heals to all ends.
Its course is very clear
As it is also very near.

He laughs curtly.

Even the wind senses it too
And it refuses to blow through.
Even this noon’s shining sun knows
And stays behind a cloud that shows.
Even the flies understand
And they all desert the land.
Even houses feel the danger
And their walls peel in anger.

When the day’s time crawls
Like a kitten with hurt paws.
When the lone sun will hide
Like the earth is after its hide.
When all the flies would flee
Like no one heard their plea.
When a house suddenly ages
Like wilting years old hedges.

Why wouldn’t the servants show it
And seek to leave before they’re hit?
Why wouldn’t they run away
And find a safer place to stay?

He starts to pace back and forth again.

You wake up one morning,
And the world is mourning.
You ask to find out why,
Everyone decides to be shy.
You fake you comprehend,
But they do not even pretend.
You ignore all their movements,
But your whole mind it torments.
And when you start to get angry,
Faces without meaning they carry.

Softly.

You then found out
Yet went on about.

Louder.

You couldn’t understand
Why they took this stand.

You were not to worry,
So they didn’t say sorry?

And when you didn’t bother,
They conclude you aren’t sober.

Even louder.

You lost your most dear father
And your life you must murder?

He pauses and shuts his eyes, as if in thought.

So what if your father was so good?
Like everyone, he had a bad mood.

Opening his eyes.

He dies from some disease
And you must start to please!
Not your family or yourself,
They put all that on a shelf.
But some haggard old sage
Who thinks ability is age.

Casually.

And when you refuse,
You’re seen as refuse.
And he casts his spell
And promised you hell.

Shouting on top of his voice.

I am a blood prince,
This I’ve known since.
I am truly immortal,
The same sage made that call.

He sought the Gods
And revealed their words.
He said so to my father
After I had exit mother.

Then he wanted her killed
For the Gods to be pleased.

Now he is against his creation
With a very pathetic formation
Of a very fake spineless king
And his huge army of nothing.

Laughs.

On my part I know,
Whether later or now,
I shall have his head
Stored beneath my bed.

He smiles, grins and laughs.

You make me laugh each day,
My dear old distaste-able beast.
And take it just as I plainly say;
On your lifeless corpse I’ll feast.

BI Rushing in quite agitated.

We must now leave!
We must go, please!

She walks aimless and confused. He ignores her.

It is he on the throne;
The one they call bone.
And the mean old priest;
The one you call beast.

He smiles indifferently.

This is not a joke,
I can see the smoke.

NE He now looks at her.

Say your piece,
If you’ll please.

BI Calming down.

When I ran away from here
To search here and there
For our helps who ran away,
I saw that all along the way
There is not a soul to be seen,
So my friend’s place I’ve been.

She swallows.

I sneaked in through a back door
And she told me the story so sour.

Because mother wasn’t sacrificed
At your birth like he had sanctified.

Because you didn’t give the priest
A large gift for burying our eldest.

She said he cast a spell on you;
That will come to pass as true.

Though no man, beast or thing
Can on its own end your living.

You’ll have another cause of end
And it is such your life will tend.

Then he made a fate for your life,
Cutting your destiny like a knife.

Any day for a reason or another
You lay your pride all together
And let yourself weep and cry;
That day you shall surely die.

NE He laughs loud and long.

Surely he can do better than that?
And what is the throne’s own part?

BI The king is terrified of you,
That much she says is true.

However, they wish to make you cry
And that is the reason why I must fry.

She looks away and shuts her eyes.

NE With true sympathy.

O’ my one dearest sister,
Why let your faith loiter?

BI She looks at him briefly, then away.

I just think it is too serious
And we must be cautious.

I fear because I know
That just about now,
People are all indoors
Waiting in twos or fours;
Waiting to hear you bend
So as to rejoice your end.

NE He walks away from her, visibly angry.

No! They wait to hear who’ll win,
For they know deep down within;
That justice is about to resurrect
And put everything again correct.

He turns around to face her.

Have no single cause to worry,
You’re after all not the quarry.

Softly.

Though they got you in the way,
It will certainly be just as I say.
We’ll come out without a scratch,
That’s the gains of an honest search.

Justice shall always prevail,
For there is more in its trial.
It is always the bias host,
That says one guest is first.

Justice is always pure clean
As surely dirty is any sin.
So very sure and honest
And so pure and modest.

BI I fear for our sake;
I fear for our fate!
Why must it lead us through this path?
Why should it seize our lives from birth?

NE That is what distinguishes
And also what differentiates
A mere dream from wishes;
For the living and their fates.

That is what always shows
A dominant bull from its cows.
That is what brings to light
Flight from the slightest fright.

That is what nullifies
Greatness based on lies
And what will uphold
Those cast in solid gold.

BI Surely there is a safer way to take,
One that all of us it wouldn’t forsake.

NE There is always such a way,
But in the end you must pay.
Pay for all the idle lazy ease
You have had as you please.

The reason why it is so hard
To become the ones heard,
Is so as to harden the hearts
Of all who are of great paths.

Those who become mighty;
To remain so for all eternity,
Aren’t those who steal their way;
Those fall off and never stay.

BI I don’t know how to attain greatness,
But I certainly do know of its fruitfulness.
For that reason I do love to remain up,
Forever enjoying with a richly full cup.

For I most certainly favour progress,
Even if it is just a withering head-dress.

NE It is either the blood or heart,
That determines the destined path.
If it is the blood, it is a right.
If it is the heart, it is might.

Each can duly make it there
And keep aloft without fear.
Together they are a winner,
Even if it is for the worst sinner.

When it is said to be the soul,
Then you’re a dreamer, that’s all.
All your dreams remain unrealistic,
Even if they’re feasible and fantastic.

BI She stares at him thoughtfully for a while.

But sometimes doesn’t it make you wonder
Why is it that despite all this order
Life is so insecure
And very unsure?

Sometimes doesn’t it make you shrink,
To just sit and really think;
How unsafe you really are,
Even if all call you sir?

Sometimes don’t you just inwardly seek
Answers to things that make you sick;
Things that you can see
And those that are to be?

Sometimes doesn’t it shake your being
To know you can’t do a thing;
Even if you are the greatest
And the sole mightiest?

Sometimes doesn’t it uproot your guts
To know all your answers carry buts;
Even if of all the world’s wise men
You are the greatest one of them?

Sometimes don’t you become nervous
With all around you so noxious,
And knowing so very well
Each could be your end?

Sometimes don’t you seek safer refuge
As you’re amidst problems so huge;
Seek to hide your face
With your every pace?

Sometimes doesn’t it just dawn on you
That in spite of you and others too,
Your journey would take a bend
And just come to an end?

NE No! Because when you sit to ponder
As you grow each day older,
You learn to invent a cure
As you become more mature.

Because when you try, you make the link
Between those good and those that stink,
For then you will see that in this pair
There is nothing to fear.

Because when you have started to pick
Questions for answers that isn’t thick,
Only then will every wig you see
Always hide an ineludible bee.

Because when you wake up every morning
You start to look towards every evening,
So you do those things you do best
And leave the others for the rest.

Because when you are really hurt
You are bound to start to loathe,
So you can’t say why then
On your farm it doesn’t rain.

Because when you choose to be cautious
In going about hopes so luxurious,
Of all the meaning you will sell
None will ring a single bell.

Because when you see all the rotten as refuse
Many are you certain to erroneously abuse
And throw out of your own race
What would have left your trace.

Because sometimes we do one instead of two
And that is why it remains to be true
That we can not really mend
These silly holes of doubt we tend.

BI Your way with words
Is only for the lords.

NE It is in my courage filled blood;
Strong as the mightiest flood.

He smiles.

Alas, I do thirst.
Spare me first.

She exits for the drink and he stood staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling, with his hands behind his back.

BI Still out of sight and loudly.

Enable us Gods!
Lead us O lords!

She runs in, empty handed.

NE Alarmed, but visibly angry.

Nameless witch!
Seasoned bitch!

Worst of the stupid,
Where is my liquid?

BI Frightened.

From what I just beheld
It wouldn’t do any good.
If in the past we were bled,
Then the gods want more blood.

NE Showing interest.

O, say it is he.
Say so to me!

BI She nods in reply, he smiles and smartly exits.

We must quickly take our leave
For here they are soon to achieve!

His muffled laughter is heard.

Can you please not hear?
We shouldn’t still be here!

NE He enters calmly.

Please do panic not,
You must go forth.
Go on to our cousin,
Who is now at the inn.

Say to him like I now do say,
‘To your men where they lay,
For the time is now upon us.
As predicted, its time for force.’

BI Visibly terrified.

But what is to be of you while I’m gone,
For it will be so long before we return.

NE Impatiently.

Just be quickly gone,
Worry not of my lone.

BI But..

NE Out!

BI They’re almost upon us now.

NE Then use the rear or anyhow.

Turns away.

But see you hurry and go.
Be so fast and careful too.

BI But I can’t leave you here.

NE Leave forth-with, you hear!?

They exit simultaneously from opposite ends.

BI She slowly re-enters.

O heavens up above,
O earth of good love;
Aid us this moment,
Spare us this torment.

NE His muffled voice is heard shouting.

Sons of adulterers!
Heirs of wanderers!

She visibly shivers.

Born of whores,
Humanity’s sores!

She covers her face with both hands.

Show me each your face,
And extinguish your race!

She kneels and starts to weep.

Don’t stand there like it isn’t real,
Advance and embrace my steel!

Silence.

She stops weeping, crawls to a corner and sits quietly on the floor. He rushes back inside with a bloodied sword in his left hard. He doesn’t see her huddled up in a corner. He kneels down and rests his hands and chin on the sword’s ‘crossed’ handle as he positioned the sword upside down in front of his knelt frame, with the blade-tip balanced first on the hard floor.

She must now be on her way back.
The enemy has shown what it lack.

He laughs.

But I am not so fooled,
Thus I’ll not be lured.
If I am so shaken,
Then I’ll be taken.
When my cousin arrive,
We shall together drive.

I’ll take law and crown
To the hell they do own.
And I will start the symbol
Of a much better era than all.
The symbol of a new image
That will live in every age.

BI I still shudder,
My dear brother.

He is startled by the sudden sound of her voice behind him. He turns around slowly and he appears even more surprised to see her still there with him, sitting there on the floor behind him. He glares at her angrily.

I’m sorry my brother,
It is for you I bother.

She stands as he lets the sword drop with a clatter on the floor.

I was so scared.
For you I feared.

He is so angry that he visibly shakes.

Please my brother,
Pardon your sister.

He stands up and she backs off as he approaches her.

NE This very day you cause me great sorrow
As you murder everyone of my tomorrow.

She is very terrified.

BI Backing away from him still.

I will go right now.
I could, you know.

NE Shouting.

Now, when we’re surrounded?
Your plea is simply unfounded!

She attempts to dash off for the exit, but he blocks her off and attempts to grab her neck with both hands. She tries to fight him off but he is too strong for her, as they briefly wrestle with their arms. He succeeds and starts to strangle her. She chokes and gasps for air, trying to beat his hands away. He tightens his hold, soon she weakens, but he doesn’t relax his hold. Then she stops struggling and slumps to the floor; he maintains his hold. She is finally lying motionless on the floor as he held onto her neck still. Suddenly he stops and pushes her away, stands up and looks down at her in sudden realization of what he had just done. In the complete silence that follows he lets out a long cry of anguish and falls on her still body, weeping. After a while he abruptly stops crying and stands up from her corpse. He looks down briefly at her body, before he turns away and picks up his sword. He starts to walk out but stops in pain, drops the sword to clasps his chest. He falls to the ground in pain and starts to roll on the floor till he is also lying very still, with his face up. His hands lie lifeless by his sides and his body completely still, with his eyes and mouth lifelessly wide open. They lie side by side, beside each other.

(LIGHTS)

Seasoned meat,
Tongue’s delight.
Sheltered heat,
Diminished light.

Truth salts,
Like tears.
And paths,
Reveal fears.

Night sleeps,
Light wakes.
Sheep reaps,
Ant makes.

When ripe,
Eat fruit.
Every life
Has soot.

Yoked, alone;
They peered.
Even stone
Has feared.

Even odds
Can even.
Even odds,
Odds even.

POEMS: Learning, Common, Sweet, Flies and Lies, Suicide & Tomorrow

LEARNING

Walked the streets of time,
Shine, lime and slime all mine.
Feasted on the sound and hype,
Swallowed their mess or its like.

Life is any game of choices
With only too many forces.
The world is its playground
For its grown-ups with sound.

As laziness enjoys much rest
Deprivation teaches the best.
Humble are all the best needy,
Craving the means of the greedy.

Seeing our race with time,
And how poorly we rhyme.
Watching our feeble shine,
Learning all the miserable time.

COMMON*

I try wetin I fit
With all dem gist.
I join, cook, wait!
Water yet, no meat.

SWEET

That haste of taste
All too late to waste.

FLIES AND LIES

In so many eggs
Form these pests,
With hairy legs
And little nests.

Homelessly so
They come alive.
Into lives they saw
Like a heartless knife.

Hollow dreams,
Misty realizations.
Spiteful screams
Claps consolations.

Hopes are meals
Infected in feeding.
Health it steals
With insidious seasoning.

Into lives
Glide monsters,
Flee and leaves
Sorrow in clusters.

Sightless lie
Full of might,
Visible fly
Trading fright.

Coming true
In various ways.
Ever they’re new
In buzzing forays.

Mail your worst,
Untrue are lies.
Come the most
You’re just flies.

SUICIDE

From where comes all this dew,
Delighting thoughts with to chew.

Soothing pressures that boo,
But sound frightfully so lewd.

I grabbed the wind horn I blew,
For I alone do hear it so true.

A loss I think I’ll cause you,
The pains might escape a few.

My swift scheme hardly new,
Like good cheats daring who.

Life is the full pot of new stew
Emotional foot found with its shoe.

TOMORROW

And come
It home.

That window;
Our mirror.

It makes
As wakes.

Another date
For fate.

Another day.
Oops, away!

Lets pray
And say.

The morrow
Will show

Us about,
Run, shout;

Shoulders high,
“Tomorrow’s here!”

POEMS: Hasken Mutuwa, Mountain, Damning, The World in a Little Room, The Hen’s Odd Chick, Fanatics Lose Faith & Mouthing Pious Platitude

HASKEN MUTUWA #
(Light of death)

Da wawa a ke rawan mutuwa,
Domin haske na chan sama.
Ranan da dare ya ga mutuwa,
Wata za bache daga sama.
Yau da haske, gobe mutuwa.

With fools death is celebrated,
For understanding gains height.
When death is communicated.
The moon hides its very light;
Today it’s clear, tomorrow cremated.

MOUNTAIN

My mood goes up and down a mountain,
Too inspired by the challenge to refrain.
Wary of the danger that’s being embraced,
So cautious of the consequence, if disgraced.

Confused at the reason why anyone must,
Scared of the height beckoning my lust.
Struggling up the first ledge as I edge up,
Proud to have made it up my own little top.

Further up more battles, the way is yet more.
Betrayed by falling rocks I yearn for before;
Holding on to dear life, yet another average.
Dejected by unfriendly weather and also age.

Angry to slip off the steep, rubbed in bruises.
Disappointed to lose the gained just pushes;
Gasping up yet another route should matter,
In time it comes to never prove any better.

Surprised by the like company all about,
Reason enough for such to pine on without
The appreciation my efforts and gains deserve.
Tired yet gladden by that view, a pleasure.

Knowing I cannot stay forever there on top.
When and not if I return grounded from up;
Normal should I be again, only different
With experience and lessons time can’t dent.

If I return pushed from its highest cliff’s edge
Or in honour received at finished time’s verge,
I’ll wrestle my older age’s embers of last mood;
Helplessly watch it win all my trophies and food.

DAMNING

When the heard child laughs
Because he or she is yet to learn
That the human’s hate bathes
Itself with a very muddy hand.

When the grown up man
Looks another in the face
With the sympathy he can,
Yet his steps he retrace.

When the means so abound
And situations led are bred,
So that no bread is found
Or all the many needy fed.

When the minds of people
Work in a pattern so futile
To their every tiny single
Breath and existing smile.

When the scale is tilt
In favour of the weight
Of the gold and its guilt
Not honour at its height.

When the support falters,
For man chooses to urinate
In his salads and waters
On the earth he can’t imitate.

When all that exists
Speaks for the destination,
Then man opens all the exits
And runs out in damnation.

THE WORLD IN A LITTLE ROOM

What you have seen before now
Is nothing like you will yet know.
Mountains higher than the clouds
Or galaxies from fictional worlds
Will flash before you in fast floods.

The breath of a lung transits
Or to anti-bodies a virus submits.
The skeleton of a lonely fetus,
As that of a Mammoth is shown us
And not a scene is ever a loss.

The Red sea had betrayed
The depth’s Egyptians embraced.
White Mountains of ice only
In the south pole melts slowly
As you watch it all so warmly.

Roof of this world up high
Marbles the earth down here.
Clusters of fish eggs hatches,
Soldier ant worker matches,
As its eyelids blinks its lashes.

The wedding of a Queen’s maid
Or a Roman shield in a pyramid.
A shark outwit a dozen sailors,
Unlike Caesar in his senate of traitors
Centuries ago showed their failures.

A terrorist and freedom fighter
Are both made a fire and its lighter.
A domesticated wolf devours a man,
For a just reason it is shown it can.
You enjoy the deserts’ heat under a fan.

Bloody vessels in vain roam a sea,
A ghost discusses and drinks tea.
The passengers of an old plane crash
Board the same plane again and smash.
The wealth you see leaves you no cash.

Every conceivable game is played
By men, animals and plants displayed.
The thickest clouds parade the sky
On pillars Himalayans peak up high
Or over raging ocean waters they fly.

Dancing birds dressed up to mate,
Two collapsing towers dust their fate.
The deepest valleys in the ocean waters
Reveal their secrets nature only alters
And nothing else in the world matters.

The uproar of a stampede crowds on,
Boiling heat erupting within the sun.
Sudden death stills a pumping heart,
A sprints heat repeated again from start
And the tracks appear your viewing mat.

Ash, gas and molten are experienced
As a volcano erupts its bowels so tensed.
Frogs hopping on water incredibly,
Like a pebble tossed so skillfully.
Sand storms windowed so luxuriously.

Satan’s countless personifications,
Lords of every era that raped nations.
Dancers of every race, sort and style,
Every single bubble in a mug of ale.
You see the characters in every tale.

The sparingly dressed wives in a harem,
Cardinal and son talk as you hear them.
A good view beneath a standing Scot’s kilt,
All the happenings in a billionaire’s treat.
Everything within sight, with every tilt.

Bullets leaving a closed steel chamber,
A pierced lung as all its air wonder.
Endless flocks of Pelicans go south,
Yellow cloud of Monarchs flicker north,
Their beauty fills every mind with thought.

Angels shielding a saint on a mission,
A nerve’s twitching response to a decision.
Ant like pedestrians on a city street,
That unsympathetic, selfish and proud fleet
Leaving tastes bitter, salty, sour and sweet.

Man’s endless quest for unknown perfections
Blurs minds with omissions and commissions.
The constructed aids in their achieved means
Entertain, educate and inform all the beings,
Yet in all its glory, humanity’s future it weans.

THE HEN’S ODD CHICK

The grass blades shake off droplets
As she led on her mild yellow train.
Her own adorable dozen little pets
Squealing within their own tiny rain,
Before the morning dew finally melts
And all the worms go deep down again.

She beaks a large borrowing worm
And they crowd round her as quick,
Wrestle the struggling stringy form
From her higher and bigger beak.
They pieces it all amongst their sum,
Except again that weird odd chick.

Scratching off the sandy soil top
To pick and feed on the grains sort,
The serious Hen and her low troop;
All except that chick which does not.
Strangely though in a marshy mud top
It walks easily as fed with its beak blunt.

Then it happens like it does always,
Her dozen subtracts after and after.
At the stream where a worm ever plays
Danger is more and always there to alter.
The odd chick water takes in its ways;
Strangely it floats on, to the Hen’s whimper.

FANATICS LOSE FAITH

There’s a time when time is seen;
In the eyes of a beholder, measured.
Encapsulated in that single being
Like a marbled fossil, so treasured.

Then words will say better actions,
Speaking louder than actions claim.
And blind faith, the vainest of notions;
For faith when blind, is truly slain.

Religion in the vein isn’t swallowed,
Its fanatics lose all ability to even see.
For faith is so evidently hallowed
In its excessive unreasonable sea.

MOUTHING PIOUS PLATITUDE

Two gentlemen of the world met,
Sitting on a park bench together.
They shared as their extremes let,
Yet their unique talents will hinder.

Pious is the madman, who lives here;
His abode ignored but litters the world.
Platitude, a Proffessor that goes there,
To seclude from the kind his world mould.

Crazy in his rags and papered home,
Pious welcomes his regular guest’s tale.
The rotten egg welcoming the bone;
Like a dog, he shows off his one tail.

They converse about a news item;
The learned Prof reads off his News daily.
Forwarding arguments befitting them,
Each reasoned man’s folly mainly.

Teachers sought reason for the sane,
Making sense of theories as realities.
While the insane do the very same,
Realities as theories are certainties.

In ostentatious escapades of the mad
Roams religious virtue so uncommon
And in sanity’s commonness easily had
Grows the loose morality we do summon.

Imbedded in their platonic briefs
Is the story of their common child;
Man’s common sense and beliefs,
Are like madmen’s, when all are blind.

POEMS: Wills of Wishes, Human, Luck Sucks, Heartly, Trustworthy, Neither as Either & Musical Nature

WILLS OF WISHES

She is an old village;
Naïve, crude, not low in age.
She understood very little,
Wasn’t sure if trust was so simple.

From the refined distance he came;
With strength he showed his shame.
With feeble resistance she succumbed
And all that’s hers he well combed.

Because she paid well he kept her
And married her from leagues afar.
She never nodded or was asked
But remained his and tasked.

They got a son after a while;
The bastard was proud in his smile.
With time he knew mother and father
And truly had cause for bother.

Claiming justice the father withdrew,
His loyal son he let rule like he knew.
The complication wasn’t at first obvious.
As time tells, it also is very envious.

The mother weeps for her dear son,
For the father has the whole person.
Their bastard is what he knows
And in this nature all does grows.

Tomorrow’s sunsets come inevitably,
Carrying vague identity’s loyalties happily.
Nursing dreams of his father’s riches;
Their bastard made wills of wishes.

HUMAN

Masters to conquer as we wish,
Subjects for elements to ditch.
Amidst plenty we are so cosy,
Most dispensable pest too nosy.

We have all we need in warmth,
And yet we ponder on the truth.
Even in the calmness of comfort,
Peace endures only to comport.

All and sundry counted as conquest,
Still amongst us is a long contest.
In boast we sweat over our fears,
And we remain parted by its tears.

From the search we then learn,
We’re uniquely put in the plan.
Overtaken by the lust we sought,
In our own webs we are caught.

We are old and our story yet done,
Age conspires to leave us in none.
We’ll reach and sit to just wait,
To find out we are the most late.

LUCK SUCKS

“Well,” they ever said indifferently,
“You can’t eat your cake and have it.”
‘Bug off!’ I puff out most angrily,
‘You happen to do so every minute.’

“Ah! But it is so, my mate and son,”
They grin with eyes all a sly glint.
“We can all have the same bait on,
Yet I catch and you’re still skint.”

‘Never alive?’ I wonder not so loud.
‘Like déjà vu?’ And I’m yet helpful.
“Where many danced your dance proud,
You will be jeered and hailed a fistful.”

‘Is it me then, and my own luck?
Need I add fate, destiny’s slut?’
“We agree to prove only to mock.”
‘Then I’ll set bait and eat my lot.’

HEARTLY

As age so munches,
Right hands touches
Our hearts so better
And how it’ll matter.

Heart’s own shutters,
In muffled clatters,
Doesn’t open or close
As they want or choose.

To an end all beats its drums;
Summing all songs it hums,
When time will all freeze
And heart beats cease.

TRUSTWORTHY

Lonely trust is an egg.
When it does break;
Like omelette or not,
Live with it henceforth.

For when trust’s shell
And its faith to tell,
Is gone for so ever,
It will return never.

When faith is broken
That much is chosen;
Egg as an omelette,
Embraces a silhouette.

NEITHER AS EITHER

Born on a tree up high,
I became a Monkey’s child.
Swinging for I don’t fly,
All else to me are blind.

Hatched in a beach’s sand,
Missed as monkeys’ feast.
Shelled in water as on land,
Only a true Turtle at least.

In the pursuance of meals
The being does its claim.
Just to only take, it steals
And lives to answer its name.

One’s ways mild and subtle
Sustains another’s in praise.
Whether Monkey or Turtle,
Rests on an act of divine grace.

Beneath sand or on a tree,
Can easily have been neither.
For such I have come to be,
Doesn’t say much for either.

MUSICAL NATURE

The beats of sounds speaks out
To be heard outside thought.
Taught mind holds out its arms
Which melodies caress and disarms.

Balance placed all around is
Fondly rolled out like this.
With august carpets welcomed
To change moods succumbed.

Beauty revealed in rhythm
That alone fills the chasm,
Teach that nature is a song
Sang in the world it belong.

Listening to living all about,
Natural in whisper or shout.
Speaking like a language
For all alive, of every age.

This one common dialect
That nature would select,
To talk to all its wards
Over whom it does lords.

Into the rhymes of beats
Even the soul also eats.
For the monastery of man
Isn’t too lonely to jam.

Drummed beats within ribs
Carry breath beyond its cribs.
Heard inside ears’ own confine
Till sound buries its own coffin.

This atmospheric gaol of man
He has only, all he does plan.
In its whirl spin of mystery,
It entertains man’s misery.

Trunk sounds nosy trumpets
Like fluty birds in high nests.
Peckers tap wooden gongs
As leggy harps chirp songs.

The hiss lull of breezy air
And crescendo a storm blare;
Conducts brown, green and blue
Into a harmony hardly new.

As sound speaks and entertain,
Nature so musically maintain
The oneness of all it breeds;
Sanely soothing all it feeds.

The metaphor portrays the act
That cannot dispute the fact;
That the fruit of this only life
Metamorphose with all alive.

MRS QUEEN, MISS KING ~

Northern,
Nigeria
1st February 1992

Dear Mrs Queen,

My mama tells me you will not get to read this letter of mine, but she suggested I made it very brief all the same.

I wish to prove her wrong, so please write back and say you got my letter. I promise to be your pen pal if you do.

Your friend,
Miss King.

THE PALACE,
LONDON,
ENGLAND.
14th February, 1992.

Dear Miss King,

We got your letter and we were quite glad to read from you. We are sure this letter will make your mother eat her words and apologise to you.

We will love to be your pen pal, so do please write us again and tell us about yourself, your family and your friends, your home and your country too.

We have very few real friends ourselves, and only get to meet mostly boring people who do not know how painful it is to keep smiling everyday of the year; especially if we do not really feel like it most of the time.

We are looking forward to your next letter. We hope you will write us very soon. Do please write your name on the top left corner of the face of the envelope your letter will be in. This will help us locate and identify your letter quickly.

Royally yours
Mrs Queen.

Northern,
Nigeria
1st March 1992

Dear Mrs Queen,

My mum is seated beside me as I write you this letter and she is beyond herself with wonder. She gave me thirty naira to buy the stamps for this letter and has promised to correct all the mistakes I make in my letters to you. She sends her regards.

I was born on 15th April, 1980; which I’m told is a Tuesday. I’m twelve years old and I’m too short for my age. I like blue, sweets, cakes, cats, bicycles, comics and I am in class five. My first name is Titi but I love being called Miss King. I have one brother, he doesn’t have many teeth now though. He lost most of them somehow. He is still only six.

Daddy and Mummy are married. Daddy is a lawyer and mummy is everything else. She drives us to school and back, cooks, washes, cleans and even does most of the talking too. My friends are many but I’ll not tell you about them. You see, I’m punishing them for not believing I’m your pen pal.

I live in Northern Nigeria. They are always burning houses here. I live in Tudun wada. They are always shouting out of loud speakers in Tudun wada. My country is very big and we have so many states, but I do not know all of them now. Daddy says I should not bother to learn the names of the new state governors because they will change them again very soon.

I am of the country’s western Yoruba tribe. Last time when there was trouble we went to stay with my grand mum in Ibadan. When you write me, please tell me about London. Is it true that the people in London do not wear wristwatches because there is a big clock in the sky? My paper is finishing and I must stop now. Please write me soon.

Your friend,
Miss King.

THE PALACE,
LONDON,
ENGLAND.
14th March, 1992.

Dear Miss King,

We can understand your mother’s excitement and the disbelief in your friends’ attitude. It is not always that people so different, like you and we become pen pals.

We were very interested in what you had to say about your country, your home, your family and yourself. We assure you that we are not as tall as our age either!

It is easy to notice how you made your country appear rather unpleasant. We wonder, is it really? Do you always have trouble in your country? What kind of trouble do you usually have? Are you always is some sort of danger in these times of trouble? We do love to know more.

We do love to tell you about London. London is our very big capital city. It is very old in a quite modern sort of way. It is noisy in most parts of the larger city and that is true for most times of the days of the week and all year round too. It has lots of people living in it from all parts of the world.

We do not know about people in London not wearing wristwatches because of a ‘big clock in the sky’. We do know that there is an old big clock on a tower called BEN, which can be seen (and heard) from many places in London. The people we are allowed to see always have wristwatches on, but then we suppose they always dress themselves up rather well, to meet us.

We would be delighted if you will keep on writing us. Do not forget to write your name on the top left corner of the face of the envelope that your letter will be in. It makes it much easier for us to locate and identify your letter from the hundreds we receive everyday. Our regards to all you love.

Royally yours,
Mrs Queen.

Northern,
Nigeria
25th March 1992

Dear Mrs Queen,

Daddy bought me a new writing pad today and mum got me some more envelopes and stamps. So as you can see, I will never stop writing you until I die. I was glad to hear about London and BEN. Daddy showed me a picture of BEN. He says it also has some kind of bell. You make London sound interesting. I will love to visit it some day.

I did not wish to make my country sound so unpleasant but it is quite hard to write anything about my country without making it sound so. I know that there is always some kind of trouble everywhere else; it is human. Actually, I borrowed that last bit from my daddy.

My country is one; at least it appears to be. But even the number ‘one’ has its fractions, so my country also has its ‘factions’. These factions know they must agree, yet they do not agree always just like the fractions in the number ‘one’ don’t agree often, most of the time. I hope you understand all that numbers bit; I am not so good in arithmetic. Neither are most of the factions in my country, it would appear.

The trouble is mainly that of superiority. Each faction claims to be more important than all the others. Religion, population, tribe, politics, literacy and commerce are used as a yardstick to measure and establish the superior faction. It is a sort of social mathematics. This affects the weak oneness that we have amongst all of us and always causes lots of trouble.

At times of trouble, it is dangerous to stay on in the opposing faction’s town. They may burn down your property and kill you too, if you don’t run away. Daddy always makes sure we run away in good time when our neighbours are our current opposing faction, or there is a hint of any trouble.

My country is a beautiful place. There are many tribes and people of very different customs and religions. I think we are together because we had no choice. Daddy said YOU gave us no choice, but he didn’t sound sure. It is late and I must go to bed now. Mummy is breathing down my neck; after making me write most of her own stuffs too. Please write me soon.

Your friend,
Miss King.

Northern,
Nigeria.
1st July, 1992.

Your Majesty,

I’m Titi King’s mother. I must apologise on her behalf for her inability to reply your letters. In fact, I just discovered the last two letters and birthday card you sent her. You see, we were away in Ibadan with Titi’s grand parents. There was an ethnical and religious uprising in the town we reside in.

It started on a Sunday evening. Titi’s father and I were away, visiting friends in another part of town. Only Titi, her younger brother and our maid were left in our flat. The maid got out with Titi’s younger brother but Titi was burnt down with the flat by a mob and we lost her so painfully.

I am sure she would want you to know that you had made the last three months of her life so wonderful. Thank you so much for this and God bless you.

Yours sincerely,
Mrs King

LONDON,
ENGLAND.
10th May, 1992.

Dear Mrs King,

We are so sorry.
I am so, so sorry.

Yours
Liz

________________________________________________

“How do I tell how you feel,
Sitting on this height’s will?
Personal love trapped within,
Expectations curbing peace in.”

“I can easily say your state,
As only a child truly taste.
For love within is personal,
Our judges are then eternal.”

POEMS: Whistling Pines, Life’s Fires, Temperaments of the Seasons, The Epic of Bamaguje, Gold and Silver, Emmanuel, Strong & Plagues of exodus

WHISTLING PINES

Where is the world I want to see?
I fear it will be gone before I do.
Like a half open umbrella seizes
A gust of changed wind and blow.

My fight to exist as best as I can
Crawls along earth’s tarred lawns.
And toiled harvests lost to man;
Banked daisies, squared up pawns.

The need to be an icon dreamt,
Creeps up my own gut; so alive.
The last enemy to destroy is death,
Our Cavalries ride same horses in life.

Pointing only skywards all this time,
Evergreen leafless people whistle one line.
On this tree, weathered to man its spine,
The whistler is always actually the pine.

LIFE’S FIRES

Fire is that living thing
That manages some win.
It lets go of its past being
And spreads till it is thin.

It breathes to win and lose,
Not a single thing changing.
In an all meaningless pose,
It finds its very own meaning.

It eats its feeding path,
The war grounds it won.
And the misery life fought,
These can’t be ever worn.

It hates and gets on lives,
Some day it just all ends.
In every home it thrives,
Grass again covers its battle-fields.

TEMPERAMENTS OF THE SEASONS

It must be the first, like the light;
Sunny rising summer, all so bright.
The height of the moods pick its reign
When the temperament is sanguine.
The confidence predominates over all,
Its bloodied florid hopelessness stands tall.

Then in that order sets in depreciation;
With bare windy Autumn’s desperation.
A sluggish retrogressive mood, so apathetic;
Displays the temperament as phlegmatic.
The unexcitable disposition throws up its palms;
Receive unemotional bleakness that never calms.

With the mood at its least hopeful state,
Gloomy winter’s horizons hide living fate.
The sad presentation of it is so symbolic,
Revealing a temperament so melancholic.
Its mournful dejected air doesn’t let out
That around the corner linger what its about.

Its about life going on, resurfacing yet again;
Like spring returns to mellow out the pain.
The tasty fruits of a weather so irascible,
Its passionate choleric temperament is unstable.
Speaks volumes of man being never mature
And how he resembles the seasons in nature.

THE EPIC OF BAMAGUJE

The Tale

Myth tales of great Bayajidda
The stories’ author of all Hausa
He trophied a serpent in Daura
Which made thirst of their well
And married their crown bearer

Prince of mighty Baghdad
City of the most sacred race
Fleeing his so furious father
Across the vast dry expanse
Like a worm he left a trace

Bastards ever begat bastards
This prince did have fourteen
With the crown he had seven
And with loose maids another
All formed lands legitimate or not

With a faith embraced in force
The tale sought to erase history
Legitimizing its apt ascention
Without due regards to facts
Either traditional or customary

Tales the child tells his peers
After he has compared origins
That pride and great honour
Like Ishmael’s became a nation
And the swords crossed palms

The Truth

Driven on downwards earlier
Off northern homes by Berbers
In flight also they meet Tuaregs
Brought together in their fear
Two races like fated and destined

Much time of harmonious peace
The races naturally yoked here
As they settled to live and bred
Their half-castes knew ease
And such a mere life they led

Traditional in past and faith
Makeri of so great a repute
Islam’s sword left its sheath
And a mere life was made mute
So became the land and its

Ashamed of all its culture
That the sacred didn’t nurture
Hiding from all the nights
And clinging on rootless future
Denied are all that is right

Sons of the soil, Bamaguje
You breathe this land and its
Homeless children, Bahaushe
The stench of you is too real
But Bamaguje is the Bahaushe

GOLD AND SILVER

Heat maketh we both;
Rich soil’s own waste.
Woke us to its breath
To breed it and eat.

The furnance is bold
To have and to Gold,
Mere crucible to hold
Silver crusts it fold.

Stallion run over care,
Strife lil’ earthen mare.
What stages we share
Sow values not fair.

EMMANUEL

In an image man is housed
Able or not, isn’t all too well
Like the creator who bossed,
Life is his image, Emmanuel.

STRONG

Mine has come to this one thing,
Appreciated and loved for my sun
Was, is and will be in everything.

As able then stays man’s proud son;
Strength is always but much nothing,
It lost out as strategy ever again won.

PLAGUES OF EXODUS

The taste of blood quenches
Not the thirst water touches.

These frogs’ tongues sang
On sacred pyramids for long.

The origin of Gnats says
Fleas’re significant in ways.

Clouds of all flies amass
Ever to so pester such as.

Like wealth is in livestock
And these riches do mock.

Boils rumble health’s wealth,
Discomforting it with stealth.

The Pharaoh swells with hail
And it rained to make him fail.

No silo will locusts ever fill,
Nations suffer to pay their bill.

Black is the trust of darkness,
Folding its blanket’s meanness.

The reign of the first born towed,
Pulled away all their pride sowed.

Exodus 7:14-11:10