THIS QUEER ODE

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Our waltz soothe this blindness
We have suffered as we yearn
For this same blank happiness
That managed all our concerns.

What force carries us onwards;
Fair to our sole wish to love,
Grills our oneness real hard;
That its aroma is sensed above.

That urge we often fear to fight,
Chokes us with its vague numb.
And with time simply waited out,
To our worldly ties we do succumb.

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OUR HOMES

Graveyard
It was always dark in all it lack;
All living again, though to us all,
Today it still lingers far off back
In that long night we still do fall.

These cultures that speak the person
Say an Abiku again is every one of us.
For common reason proves a season,
That only event ended and started us.

When the cries over sharia had settled,
We ran and scattered the town’s streets.
Homeless, dead and alive all kettled;
Schemed and steamed out of fair streets.

After all, a rope always starts and ends,
Then it is just after all rope in between.
All of man is birth and the dead ends,
In between is life; man is in between.

After dusk, all return to their own home.
The swine’s streets of our homes will then
Not be as good again to even just roam,
For the transit pen is now a lion’s den.

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ASABA

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Her entire short life is dirge like,
In her daily rounds so silly alike.
Abnormally brained, genes had made;
A persistent dirty joke, harmlessly made.

Asaba is the neighbourhood’s fool,
Nurturing our moods into a little fool.
The gloom that is her poor mind
Caresses our passions, so we mind.

In a puddle she plays herself by.
Scaring kids as she staggers by.
Gracious mums use this apt fear.
Life cannot be all good and fair.

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Collection of over 250 poems
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