Throw JOS some black lit candles. Again we write more chapters in our ‘book of bloods’ with the narratives, an heritage for distant tongues to tell whose skins are unpeeled by cowry demons, but bruised as Benue, Taraba, Nasarawa, Adamawa, Kaduna, Zamfara,… and more to come. I hear that there...
Salam holds a glittering sword in his right And a well sharpened matchete in his left He cries for war in the nooks of every crannies Roaring on our streets and panting for blood With speeches decorated with tricks and cunnies Salam Alay’kum, Salam Alay’kum, I have seen peace cry...
Uwar na (Mama), I’ve always dream of a future My heart longs for a glorious tomorrow When all my dream would come For you to be proud of me uwar na, You’ve always taught me to work hard Face my studies in order to be great So I can climb...
Are they so soon forgotten? Just like a rootless tree on a bare rock. Are they so soon forgotten? Chibok fruits plucked and packed. like fish stock. Bring back our girls, Tho’ they’ve suffered alienation. Bring in our guests, We’ll manage with their deformations. Bring back my sisters Who you...
There’s an insatiable thirst to kill in these men! Though I have been condemned to remain planted in the earth now dank from smeared blood, I spread my arms and its leaves to shelter killers and kills. These decades have been my gallows of fear and terror. The black sun...
BUNI YADI: i. Ill winds blowing From the house of imp Has shared the fire To castles in your estate. Landmark of fortresses May be forgotten before Souls sanctioned reaches kismet ii. buni yadi, letters from hell may no be recieved as quick you know NIPOST; species of snail but...
Boko Haram is cooking bestiality Shoeless Jo is grabbing opportunity Buhari’s tears — real or parody? ….Baba Iyabo calls it comedy APC patents conspiracy PDP transfers complicity Drunk on her peoples’ apathy Nigeria staggers to bankruptcy Poverty bites with rabid tenacity Infects the people with mendacity APC patents conspiracy PDP...
Here is a poem, a question, a cry for and by the dead and the living: A hundred and fifty million noses sniffing the air, Searching for the fragrance that is not there. They go sniff, sniff; father, mother and the brood, For they said our Shepherd had Luck, he...
Their muse is there to always lament no-gory day? If not their dirty lovely date, then tis about lust to prevail. Their veins are always agile on the plane of gray; They, demonic breaths, breeding perverted bartenders in veil. The day knows their port and plots than the night, But...
Where are our daughters? Mothers, where are they? Tell me they aren’t the ones I find on the Streets these days For I barely see the ones I once knew. Why have they chosen to flock the streets Dressed in birthday suits. Exposing the temple of the comforter Inviting passers-by...
