Dropping from my mind, This pernicious bundle of beliefs, Unto my hand like a squirmy caterpillar; Writhing in my filthy hand. Tossed in the air and away you fly like a butterfly; Like a vulture, fly away.
I am fed up with the filth and murkiness So I cast them out like spells I cast them in the air where I got them. All the promises have come to naught And my spirit is worn out. Beaten to paralyses with weighty doctrines, Senseless dogmas, And empty church services.
The affair of wee mortals With our planet has gone awry again; Crabby like the acrid taste of long kept palm wine. We mask our depredation with mendacious diplomacy. Hence this social distance between us and Earth.
Suddenly the world is shut. And we are the incarcerated Homo sapiens Of modern day cave men.
Empty park benches in empty parks; Empty dusty pews in empty cathedrals; Empty classrooms in empty citadels of learning; Empty liquid soap and sanitizer cans everywhere; Used face-masks litter the street corners. ...
Since naming, blaming and shaming Has become an aberration in Nigeria, And because holding the scepter and crown Accountable is counted as insolences,
We must learn new ways of singing praises. We must learn by heart The names of the cronies That has piloted Nigeria to such great height
Behold the catalogue of potentates That did not misrule Nigeria at all; They did not loot our treasury with reckless abandon. They are our national heroes That helped us to build our nation Into what it is today.
The devil and I have been good. Together from childhood. Like childhood friends. I remember at the beginning At the dining table of peccancy With my long fork hardly missing any mark.
They say if you must eat with the devil, Do so with a long fork or spoon
So my fork was long. How I safely forked those chunks Of grisly bacon; Those soft-scented tissues of flesh Which tasted like honey and milk Shaken together with appetition And delivered from in-between a woman’s thighs.
I am many things but confused I know myself in depth But somehow have I lose grip On issues that concern me And even though I so much want to, To take control, I really can’t have it. So for a start, you can call me helpless.
I have been speechless for decades. I remember once at Ogoni When I thought I should speak up. How my tongue was hung on a noose Along with eight others. So, you can call me voiceless.
I am a richly endowed woman With the breasts of a virgin maiden That is pointing to high heaven Like a cross...