Poetry

WHITE, BLACK OLD WAYS.

Yesterday's seduction calls,
Arousing my thirst,
 Lingering hunger for power,
 Erotically having fun with my deep.
Zapping energy from my previous life.
Should I accept this evil or forge with the light I know?
Should I hate what I am? Or become my past?

Their voices i hear, my sisters,
Join us, they say.
The world is eager to be doomed.
Beholding apparitions of their deeds,
Makes me want some more liquid,
The scarletic evil draws near,
This path was never mine,
It isn't mine,

The white ways I so desire,
But! Same of one origin,
White witch,black witch?
All from the family of witches.

This I know for sure,man is god but man isn't God,
The mind,soul and spirit are not subject to another man's control.
Still, I wish to tell the past and future of foolish men,
Their palms I wish to read,
To tell them my own story,
Stories that might cause them doom and nightmares,
Cos inward we've refused to journey.
Man, man, man,
when will you know yourself?
Still, the physiognomy of yesterday stares at me with not a smile,

To continue this life,
NO! Let my fathers rest and my mothers sleep,
This child isn't coming home ever.
I have been conquered by light.
The life I was meant to correct.
But too bad this path was dampled by one so strong,
He was my husband and I his wife,
He consciously woke my past,
And I cant sleep,
Still plagued with insomnia of these black nights,
Constantly waiting for a white knight,
To come wisk me away to light,
 Causciously I retreat from my temptation,
From my seduction,
Consciously, I result, die and resonate in this beautiful sparkles of truth,
Even,when,I have no sleep,
I still want to walk this path.

ORIGIN

Where it all started

Sin from its origin

Original sin

We saw it happened before it began

But we sang songs of endless love

Collecting Reminiscence, Renaissance

Good and bad memories

Waiting for sun to sleep so we can bring back the spirit of those who have lost

In the lost word

We gather, making circle

Forming ring, Fellowship of the ring

Round the flame, Its home where we came from

Tales by moonlight

By the fire side

We the predecessors

Predicting success, telling stories of heroes

Legends and legacies

During soul harvest, we buried kings and queens

Crowning nest of kings

For posterities

Share with kings men in kingdom

Grey! Some with silver hair

There’s wisdom in age, our golden age

Men

Visit home

Where you come from

Remember the village market

Where it all stated as we trade by barter

To cowries and shillings, buying and selling

Exchange and services

See! Young women, with wrappers round their chest

Chatting and jesting,walking and talking

Marking the market day, that day

Remember the rivers

As it flows, we play, swimming

Fishing, smiling

From those who sat on stone and washed

Boys with shorts without shirts

That’s how it started, the sound of gong by the town crier 

The cork crow at dawn, the early morning smoke

Our subway with no traffic, hunters checking trap

Collecting fruits and greens

Bringing home infested woods, fire woods from the woods

Our warriors who wrestle with the wind

Our home, our good luck charm

Friends and foe, from neighboring villages

From the caves

Festivals, masquerades, dancing

Some drinking, men toasting

Asking, chasing girls with beadsaround hips,on heat.

Its time

Look at the village schools and clinic

Dilapidating, in bad shape

Let’s come and bridge the gap

Bridging gaps with open hearts

From only those who are young, good at heart

Though some are wise and some are otherwise

But beingsons of soil

Let’s sow seed and sing songs and poems

To save souls in caves, in cage with all faith

The voice God

The voice of people, voice of nature, voice poets

Let’s visit origin of Oracles and Gods

The native breeze, songs from the stream goddess

Faces in calabash wine 

Decipher Joseph Liman

Assistant secretary, Jos ANA

08033227582

DEATH'S OBITUARY

I died a death

Yet in my death I refused death

Anguish gave me no peace

Solitary no rest

My grave empty

The underworld I never journeyed.

In my conscious oblivion, I thought

Hoping, searching

The world I once knew vanished

Eroded by greed, the creed of greeds

A quest to better 'self'

Became a quest to destroy 'us'.

Did you forget?

When a brother was a brother’s keeper

And a sister a companion?

When communality was our bond?

Oh, yesterday we dined; you and me

Our children playing tirelessly

Gossiping on our way from the stream

We talked about our children

What blessing they have been

Even though they are the best in school,

They never hesitated with their domestic chores;

Sweeping, axing, cooking, then playing

We were contended just watching them

Then we talked about our husbands – our lords

Men of bravery and dignity

Warriors, farmers, hunters, fishermen

Do you remember?

Your husband once caught an antelope

And mine, well, a rabbit

(We couldn’t stop laughing)

You and I

But I wasn’t bothered

Your husband brought us a portion of the antelope meat

And my husband gave yours a portion of our little rabbit

Then, together under the starry night

They not only shared a calabash of wine

But also their glories and failures

Laughing into the glowing darkness

You and I

We sat by the kitchen fire

Chatting to our heart’s fill

The children long gone to bed

“Early to bed, early to rise”, they say

But what is this gully?

Why did I become suddenly invisible to you?

How did I stop hearing your many cries?

Locked within our high fences we became deaf, dumb and blind

You fell, no hand lifted you

My husband died, no comforting bossom

In pain, I watched my children dig their father a grave

Limbs too steady for their age

Schooling ghostly survival

Perfecting customized loneliness

In our ownless community

The youths? All gone to “office – so much work to do”

“Let the dead bury the dead”, they quote

No second glance or thought of care

So for my children’s sake

I defy death

And for generations unborn

I murder death

I fill this gully

I path this ocean

I pull down this fence

I kill solitary

Now I am at your door

Arms stretched out

To embrace those moments again

To awaken communion

Dare you refuse.

                                                                                    A.A. Ozioma 

                                                                        aaozioma@yahoo.com