Submissions by naijapoeteket (Divine Idiong)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I be an internationally acclaimed author of poetry, short stories and a novel.
Salt of the Earth
It is people like you
Who make people like me.
To want to live on.
If alone to be there
When people like you
Need people like me
To live on too.
So I went to
The market place
Called humanity shopping;
Shopping for something
Something special;
Special and valuable.
I asked for salt.
The seller tells me.
“Finished”
I said:
“Why? Where can I get it?”
She said the woman
That supplies her salt was out of stock.
She said the woman
Had told her
The market where she
Gets salt was no more....
Who make people like me.
To want to live on.
If alone to be there
When people like you
Need people like me
To live on too.
So I went to
The market place
Called humanity shopping;
Shopping for something
Something special;
Special and valuable.
I asked for salt.
The seller tells me.
“Finished”
I said:
“Why? Where can I get it?”
She said the woman
That supplies her salt was out of stock.
She said the woman
Had told her
The market where she
Gets salt was no more....
28 reads
0 Comments
Scattered Lines
Form, used to be it;
Structure was
What made it complete.
So all rhymes
And metrical measurements
Were employed in the marking
Of my lines;
And the intertwining
Of the cords formed
By my measured lines.
And the weaving of the cords
To get the strength
I thought was required
To draw the attention
Of the world.
But then the emptiness
That results from the
Firmness and strictness
As against the
Fluidity and harmony
And spirit of
Flowing thoughts-turned-word
On my paper
And on...
Structure was
What made it complete.
So all rhymes
And metrical measurements
Were employed in the marking
Of my lines;
And the intertwining
Of the cords formed
By my measured lines.
And the weaving of the cords
To get the strength
I thought was required
To draw the attention
Of the world.
But then the emptiness
That results from the
Firmness and strictness
As against the
Fluidity and harmony
And spirit of
Flowing thoughts-turned-word
On my paper
And on...
19 reads
0 Comments
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...
35 reads
0 Comments
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.
...
89 reads
1 Comment
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.
...
55 reads
2 Comments
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...
64 reads
1 Comment
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, ...
100 reads
3 Comments
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...
126 reads
2 Comments
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...
84 reads
1 Comment
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...
133 reads
1 Comment
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...
125 reads
0 Comments
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...
409 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by naijapoeteket (Divine Idiong)