Waiting Under the Rock!

Wait!

Wait in faith,

not on a fate

that’s coming at any rate

like the black moon

that darkens the light of noon

and increases the burial dance

unlike the interment in France.

Sad though we must not be

because of the pain we feel

under a dwindling rock

called Aso Rock.

We wait

because as yet,

we cannot move,

fly or jump like a dove.

Until we can take a leaf,

we’ll be covered with the green leaf

under the dwindling rock

called Aso Rock.

Author’s Postscript: “Waiting Under the Rock”is symbolic of Nigeria. The Rock symbolizes the Nigerian Government House called Aso Rock and all the gimmicks of politics not favouring the citizenry. The poet persona speaks for the masses using the plural “We” and poeticising that “Until we take our leaf” from bad government and all the indices of underdevelopment including bribery and corruption, crises and death, sickness and poverty, ignorance and illiteracy, unemployment and joblessness, increasing infant and maternal mortality rate, misery and melancholia, we will be covered with the green leaf which was supposed to symbolize the abundance of natural wealth, fertility and fruitfulness but has been upturned.

***

Pestle and Mortar

Like the pestle dancing

according to the singing

rhythm of the yam in the mortar,

words sing according to the rhythm;

the rumbling thundering of sense

after thirsting words in their essence

like licking tangerine

with my tongue

after washing down

the suffocating frown

of words that choke like

stubborn bones down my throat;

a cause not without an effect

creating lines of defect

and a song of the fears

of many years

until words come,

healing me and giving me a home

out of the heap

of a debris.

***

Season of Plagues

We are hurrying,

scurrying on hungry stomachs

to our farmlands with hoes,

machetes and working shoes,

eager to make ridges

on dry lands across the village river.

In this season of plagues

that bumper garri has become a threat,

lassa fever,

like bubonic plague

has taken a family line,

putting so many on the roll,

waiting for the call

and the lowering down

of carcasses

six feet below.

We shout,

we cry like a rhythmic

rumbling sound of thunder

orchestrating a calamitous calamity.