Submissions by naijapoeteket (Idiong Divine)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I be an internationally acclaimed author of poetry, short stories and a novel.
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Aug 2014 10:54am
25th Aug 2014 10:54am
Blindness
They say love is blind
But never get to say
What blinded her
Or who blinded her
Because when one is blind
It but follows
That one knows not
If really one is blind.
Because the blind
Sees clearly
All hidden truths
Of this world;
Locked deep down within
Our deepest inside
Waiting to be released;
Waiting to flourish.
So if love is blind,
It means love sees better
Though man is blinded
To believe love is blind
When man is the one
Who is blind
Like a bat.
Flying noisily across
Space...
But never get to say
What blinded her
Or who blinded her
Because when one is blind
It but follows
That one knows not
If really one is blind.
Because the blind
Sees clearly
All hidden truths
Of this world;
Locked deep down within
Our deepest inside
Waiting to be released;
Waiting to flourish.
So if love is blind,
It means love sees better
Though man is blinded
To believe love is blind
When man is the one
Who is blind
Like a bat.
Flying noisily across
Space...
575 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Mar 2014 12:16pm
6th Mar 2014 12:16pm
Mind Control
Whereas
They say government is of the people
By the people and for the people.
Whereas
They claim to be for the people to serve.
They claim ownership of our oil reserves.
Whereas
Our resources and taxes they claim
Our welfare is not at all their aim.
Whereas
They took the Local Content Act
And edited it with crafty tact
To become the Nigerian Content Act
So the Act now is majorly only over
The Niger Delta oil
So that for oil wealth, we get a ruined soil
While they top up their personal reserves of dollars.
...
They say government is of the people
By the people and for the people.
Whereas
They claim to be for the people to serve.
They claim ownership of our oil reserves.
Whereas
Our resources and taxes they claim
Our welfare is not at all their aim.
Whereas
They took the Local Content Act
And edited it with crafty tact
To become the Nigerian Content Act
So the Act now is majorly only over
The Niger Delta oil
So that for oil wealth, we get a ruined soil
While they top up their personal reserves of dollars.
...
851 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
4th Nov 2013 8:41am
4th Nov 2013 8:41am
I Love My Country
Dawn again in this gaol
The birds are imprecisely numbering
One hundred and sixty million
Or more.
Mostly my countrymen.
The jailors are three hundred and sixty humpty down
And 109 dumpty members up.
You will never find vessels that
Could be emptier.
The two other estates of the realm
Are but a sham.
Even the fourth just stroll
Through the corridors
Hoping to be beckoned in
To the divide the loot.
They call it national cake.
The governors’ hands are known
For taking huge funds
And they show no shame.
...
The birds are imprecisely numbering
One hundred and sixty million
Or more.
Mostly my countrymen.
The jailors are three hundred and sixty humpty down
And 109 dumpty members up.
You will never find vessels that
Could be emptier.
The two other estates of the realm
Are but a sham.
Even the fourth just stroll
Through the corridors
Hoping to be beckoned in
To the divide the loot.
They call it national cake.
The governors’ hands are known
For taking huge funds
And they show no shame.
...
716 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
26th Jul 2013 4:11pm
26th Jul 2013 4:11pm
The Coconut Conundrum
Ukeme was a little boy who lived with his parents in Ikonneme, a village in Abey Kingdom which was very close to the other end of Calabar town.
He was a diligent boy. Every morning when he woke up from sleep, he would roll away his mat from the floor. He would sweep the floor of the hut and the entire compound; He helped with the washing of the plates used for dinner of the previous night. And while his mother prepared their breakfast, he would ensure that he released the fowls from their cage and the goats from their pen so that they can go about looking for what to eat. They had...
He was a diligent boy. Every morning when he woke up from sleep, he would roll away his mat from the floor. He would sweep the floor of the hut and the entire compound; He helped with the washing of the plates used for dinner of the previous night. And while his mother prepared their breakfast, he would ensure that he released the fowls from their cage and the goats from their pen so that they can go about looking for what to eat. They had...
753 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Oct 2012 2:48pm
26th Oct 2012 2:48pm
Dust to Dust
The greatest comedy of all
Was at her funeral.
Mma Uneghe.
The old woman lived for a long long time
In isolation
And died of abandonment.
They called her "witch"
She was old, unkempt, haggard and shagged
So they called her "witch"
At her funeral,
Came all sorts of guests
Invitees and dignitaries.
The real tragedy was in the
Pomp and galore in which
Mma Uneghe's passing was celebrated.
The burial was well celebrated.
A quarters of the expense
Would have given the poor woman
A happy life, ...
Was at her funeral.
Mma Uneghe.
The old woman lived for a long long time
In isolation
And died of abandonment.
They called her "witch"
She was old, unkempt, haggard and shagged
So they called her "witch"
At her funeral,
Came all sorts of guests
Invitees and dignitaries.
The real tragedy was in the
Pomp and galore in which
Mma Uneghe's passing was celebrated.
The burial was well celebrated.
A quarters of the expense
Would have given the poor woman
A happy life, ...
699 reads
3 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Oct 2012 11:36am
26th Oct 2012 11:36am
The Weight of Success
How come I am yet to kiss?
Like I was a virgin.
I have seen it all:
The greatest, the wittiest;
Success
Failure.
Why is it so hard to measure?
To weigh success
Is like standing still
In a furious moving tide
Of waves of trends
When one should be
Moving with it to Eldorado
Their weights become so infinitesimal
The weights of my success
Of my failures become so small
Whenever I look ahead.
So much more to achieve;
So much more room for mistakes
And corrections to be made.
When...
Like I was a virgin.
I have seen it all:
The greatest, the wittiest;
Success
Failure.
Why is it so hard to measure?
To weigh success
Is like standing still
In a furious moving tide
Of waves of trends
When one should be
Moving with it to Eldorado
Their weights become so infinitesimal
The weights of my success
Of my failures become so small
Whenever I look ahead.
So much more to achieve;
So much more room for mistakes
And corrections to be made.
When...
707 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Sep 2012 4:38pm
13th Sep 2012 4:38pm
The Rhythm of the World
This morning in Aleppo
Was bloodshed
Gunshots, RPGs,
Bomb blasts
Like the achaba suicide bomber
Of Kaduna
A little boy in Syria is running
To escape the shrapnel of
The shooter’s shells and mortars
A disillusioned al'majiri is planting
Local explosives in a church
Somewhere in Borno.
My bedroom receives
Fresh percolation of sun rays
Early morning sun rays
It reminds me
How we used to sing do re mi
A female deer
A drop of golden sun
A name I call myself.
But where have they all gone?
The songs...
Was bloodshed
Gunshots, RPGs,
Bomb blasts
Like the achaba suicide bomber
Of Kaduna
A little boy in Syria is running
To escape the shrapnel of
The shooter’s shells and mortars
A disillusioned al'majiri is planting
Local explosives in a church
Somewhere in Borno.
My bedroom receives
Fresh percolation of sun rays
Early morning sun rays
It reminds me
How we used to sing do re mi
A female deer
A drop of golden sun
A name I call myself.
But where have they all gone?
The songs...
598 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
19th May 2012 10:04am
19th May 2012 10:04am
The Hon. Minister's Dogs
His daughter was getting married
So the Hon, Minister’s gate was thrown open
For just that day.
And like flies to a carcase,
The people thronged in
To see, to hail, to help with cooking,
And to gossip.
His gangster paradise
Of beautiful daughters and
Buxom young wives, a harem of them.
The assorted automobiles
Could give one orgasm.
The horticulturist
Must have seen the Garden of Eden.
The architect who designed his mansion
Must have had
A national monument in mind.
My country's ministers could be
Very...
So the Hon, Minister’s gate was thrown open
For just that day.
And like flies to a carcase,
The people thronged in
To see, to hail, to help with cooking,
And to gossip.
His gangster paradise
Of beautiful daughters and
Buxom young wives, a harem of them.
The assorted automobiles
Could give one orgasm.
The horticulturist
Must have seen the Garden of Eden.
The architect who designed his mansion
Must have had
A national monument in mind.
My country's ministers could be
Very...
601 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
18th May 2012 2:01pm
18th May 2012 2:01pm
Naked Me
Standing before you oh grand one
Jehovah, God of my forefathers
The one who chose David
The least of one of Jesse’s sons.
Standing before you oh awesome God.
I am naked like an infant knowing nothing;
I tremble in fear of you righteous judgments.
What can I open my mouth to say?
What can I ask for?
That you already didn’t know?
My sins haunt me like night ghosts.
The affairs of these evil days
Are decorating my neck
Like a leash on the neck of a dog.
But when I stand before you Lord,
I am naked and mute.
For...
Jehovah, God of my forefathers
The one who chose David
The least of one of Jesse’s sons.
Standing before you oh awesome God.
I am naked like an infant knowing nothing;
I tremble in fear of you righteous judgments.
What can I open my mouth to say?
What can I ask for?
That you already didn’t know?
My sins haunt me like night ghosts.
The affairs of these evil days
Are decorating my neck
Like a leash on the neck of a dog.
But when I stand before you Lord,
I am naked and mute.
For...
705 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
13th Feb 2012 10:14am
13th Feb 2012 10:14am
Laughing
Sprawled on my soft leather sofa
One Sunday after church service
Reading Okara’s “Spirit of the Wind”
And my infant son is sleeping nearby:
He would never leave me alone.
I can’t tell whether I was reading
Because he was asleep or
He was asleep because I was reading.
But from the wind came the laughter of my
Neighbour’s kids
From over at the garden
Where they gather to play
And the wind keeps blowing.
Oh how they laugh such laughable laughter.
Freely they laugh hysterically, sillily
As if their lives depended on it.
Their high...
One Sunday after church service
Reading Okara’s “Spirit of the Wind”
And my infant son is sleeping nearby:
He would never leave me alone.
I can’t tell whether I was reading
Because he was asleep or
He was asleep because I was reading.
But from the wind came the laughter of my
Neighbour’s kids
From over at the garden
Where they gather to play
And the wind keeps blowing.
Oh how they laugh such laughable laughter.
Freely they laugh hysterically, sillily
As if their lives depended on it.
Their high...
1005 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
19th Jan 2012 1:09pm
19th Jan 2012 1:09pm
Our Farmland
In this farm where boats sail on oil,
On overflowing oil, we yet live in a dream.
The things we see should not be said
The things we say should not be heard
And the things we hear
Are grossly absurd.
Such absurdities as
Trees growing upside down,
Fishes fly and birds swim.
Big brother can not
Look us in the eyes again.
Now we know they lied
Without a twitch on their eye lids, to us
When they said we elected them.
They stole our trust and our treasury,
They hijacked the future of children to come.
The goats...
On overflowing oil, we yet live in a dream.
The things we see should not be said
The things we say should not be heard
And the things we hear
Are grossly absurd.
Such absurdities as
Trees growing upside down,
Fishes fly and birds swim.
Big brother can not
Look us in the eyes again.
Now we know they lied
Without a twitch on their eye lids, to us
When they said we elected them.
They stole our trust and our treasury,
They hijacked the future of children to come.
The goats...
863 reads
8 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
27th Dec 2011 1:41pm
27th Dec 2011 1:41pm
Misty Clouds
Suddenly it looks misty
and cloudy.
A miasma of our duplicitous past
Is hanging over the Niger.
Blowing down from the polar.
It looks like rain again.
Rain again,
Whoever wants it to rain again.
Who is it that taught you
Such mendacity:
You were "born to rule"?
Whoever lied to you that
The more southerners you killed
Or the more churches you bombed,
The more virgins you will be
entitled to in heaven?
Whoever told them...
and cloudy.
A miasma of our duplicitous past
Is hanging over the Niger.
Blowing down from the polar.
It looks like rain again.
Rain again,
Whoever wants it to rain again.
Who is it that taught you
Such mendacity:
You were "born to rule"?
Whoever lied to you that
The more southerners you killed
Or the more churches you bombed,
The more virgins you will be
entitled to in heaven?
Whoever told them...
890 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by naijapoeteket (Idiong Divine)
