COME AWAY,MY LOVE

(On Val's Day and Always)

Come away, my love
From  throngs of merrymakers who delight 
Just in the drooling face of day,
And let me be the light of a thousand brilliance
That illuminates the dark corners of seasons walled
In the womb of mortality;
The zephyr that passes her gentle fingers through layers
Of affection uncracked by Time's covetous touch.
Or does Val's day at all-times play?
Most who sing under Its caressing  wings
Think It just a day

Come away, my love
So we both will this day and other days play
Holding each other by hand  and soul to soul
Be welded in love so eternal.
Let's in winged seraphs or Jove's feathered wings
Ride sprightly across the watchful sky
Perfuming each moment we share
With the sweet fragrance of our Val.

THE SILENCE OF THE ANCESTOR

Here we sit quietly;
Palms on our cheeks;
Aching to hear
The voice of the ancestor
Who has refused to speak
To his people from the foreign land
Of white spirits.

The Ifa priest throws his beads
On the divination plate
"Speak our father!" He implores
He repeats the same process
Time and time again
"Show to us where thou art father?"
The priest asks again and again
Yet he looks up each time a frustrated fellow,
Shakes his head vigorously with pouted lips,
And he gives the same answer over and over again,
The answer of silence
The ancestor would not speak.

"Try one more time please,"
We urge him
He throws the beads and pleads
"Should I offer you gin
Or is it the head of a goat you want?"
                       Suddenly!
He jumps up and we exclaim "Ahaa!"
The ancestor must have answered.
"The ancestor is livid!" Shouted the priest.
"No one, I say, no one can force the ancestor
To speak from the land of white spirits!"

Ubaji Isiaka Abubakar Eazy 2017

I Gave A Her Hand of Fellowship By Akwu Sunday Victor

I gave her a hand of fellowship
I wanted us to be Adam and Eve
Stark naked in the garden of our home
I spent all my life scratching the earth
The needles of life pierced my fragile limbs
I became a salaaming coward before her people
They took long knives and punctured my pocket
And all the grains I gathered they sieved from me
And all these while, she cleaved to them
As they all feasted upon the grain I came with.
"Blood is thicker than water. Eat now, you and we
May not eat again when you have changed
Your home address."
I, my neck, became a giraffe
And my eyes became that of an owl's but I plodded
Until I came home with the laurel

I gave her a hand of fellowship,
When all around her friends lived
Husband and wife, I gave her a hand
And we were friends, I gave her a hand
When she washes the dishes, I our clothes.

I gave her a hand of fellowship
Then one day she ate the fruit
She plucked it from the lips of some poetess
And she ate the fruit and when I returned
From scratching the earth, I met status quo
Where is my meal and she showed me the door
Yes, the door to the kitchen. I am with your seed.
I laughed. I went. I brought. We ate. I laughed.
Then I remembered the words of sages,
'Give a leper a handshake and
He will reach for the elbow'. The elbow!
She has eaten the fruit. Her eyes opened.
I haven't. So, I laughed over all.

And then it came
The duty roster!
Morning
Husband. Wash dishes.
Evening
Wife. Cook the meal.
Next day.
Husband. This. Wife. That.
The roster. Timetable.
Friend. Lover. You are to me.
Friend. Lover. I am to you.
Give Eve breathing space
And she will dialogue with the devil
Give Eve a breathing space
And she will eat the fruit
Make her equal and she rides upon you.
We are partners. Friends. Partners.
Be what you want to be.
But you are my wife.
Are you not?
Now that makes the difference!

Akwu Sunday V. @2017

Meet The Poet:

Akwu Sunday Victor holds a degree in English and Literary Studies and is presently a post graduate student at Kogi State University, Anyigba.