Monday 26 December 2016

LITANY IN HARD-TIMES


  
When noisome voices  of change like a pounding swell
Finally crested the land--'our own land,'
Splendors of hope beamed up with a solemn knell
Revealing the unfettered gaiety slain by our demand
Of bygone days; we revelled in joy so high and tall
But in time did they metamorphose to be the Saul
Prosecuting their foes. Now that the table is turned about
And the masses left in wanton doubt
        Lord, deliver us from their kiss of death!

Renascence of grizzled foxes dressed in angel's robes.
Obsessed with masqueraded will
And stately liss of cosied up boxes with kleptomaniac thobes
They labour to bargain away the last yam ungrill'd.
May those who feel and paint witty words
Have a field day--for sanity is maimed with no swords.
Ours is an open sore of timeless ridicule;
And even as vultures freely feed on remains unshackled,
       Lord, deliver us from their kiss of death!

Beleaguered by scourge of persistent hard times;
When the highest currency can scarce get them bread;
Youths turn to crimes for want of dimes
And school children without dread
Drop out daily for their mother's wares remained unsold.
Oh, how gag mouthed we watch while tendrils of good mold
Are seared by suckers of hardship before our very eyes!
And since they are stone-deaf to our piteous cries,
       Lord, deliver us from their kiss of death!

Thursday 22 December 2016

YOU LIFTED THE LAMP (For Wole Soyinka)

You lifted the lamp
High above the tower schemed to cramp
A mother’s value, her lores and her mores,
In the arms of Morpheus they strived to put or even some erase.
The seedling that will make the tendril cannot
Be truly guessed even amongst the lot
In the fructiferous womb of that “Ake daughter of Eve” 
Gestated one seed, fructescensed and by the world, with paean receive

You lift the lamp
That, upon her trading stamp,
Mirrored her timeless effulgence
Aye, it is your fervid feasance!
Life is labyrinth of choices
But you settled on those of immorality and voices.
And, amidst the gods, you enjoy a fair place;
To the formative knives, a counsel of the populace

You lifted the lamp
And just in time, with a boisterous clamp,
Combed the illusive chambers of their worth.
Within the strand of your hair, artful crafts are called forth.
An enigma of all ages, on the rung you stand a top.
Like a kisser’s lips wearing the finest make up,
Industry festooned you with creative highness:
The ways of a black mother, you belauded in its depthness

Tuesday 20 December 2016

SONNET XXVI

   In thy wishes,good friends for comrade's sake,
Forget not in all to wish me good health even
As thou,upon this day of my birth,recollect
To consign me to the fair hands of long life and rich prospect;
Or hath it not for the umpteenth time with sure stake
Said health is wealth? Its qualities are not hidden:
As gentle rains from heaven generously drop
      On the chapped lips of a thirsty earth to crop
      A lushly green vegetation,so does its enjoyer
Attain full blossom and count himself a bold slayer
Of life's numerous challenges. Twice blessed
Is he that is rich in good health;
And amidst patchwork of desires-material,longevity and those dressed
       In garment of Time-all craves to bask in sublime health.