TORTURE by Emmanuel Ibekwe

TORTURE by Emmanuel Ibekwe

 

TORTURE

 

If wishes were horses

I still would prefer a Lamborghini

I would feel better if it`s not public buses

At least beggars cannot get a ride in it.

 

 

They say suffering is no ornament

No one would feel proud with it on their neck

Suffering should be for but a while, not permanent

If it tarries, take another card from nature`s card deck.

 

 

All things good come to those who wait

You waited this long and this be your taste?

You took time to nail your coffin

I envy your ambidexterity.

 

 

Why enter just to endure

Since you can be free to enjoy

Your life is one and it ends too soon

I envy you a lot. Seems you love torture

 

 

Free you are. Sure.

A caged lion in a zoo is free too

Limited but to the ends of the cage

This sums up your case, to the letter and page

 

 

I do not know what you enjoy

You could be masochistic for all I know

Perhaps you feel more alive and good to go

When you know what punishment he has for you next.

 

Picture

 

 

Your smile has become so sad

Your laughter tell tales of bitterness

If this sad mien be your smiley face,

What then would sad look like?

 

 

Why stay locked up just to feel among

Your relationship status changes not a stock market pip

Why be sad when you can boldly stand,

Point to the door and kick him out.

 

 

I take my time to feel bad for you

Do take time and do yourself some good

Remain single and wait for the right one

Remember, everything good comes to those who wait.

So, if wishes were horses

I would prefer you stay single and happy

 

 

Take him to your door, you need not be snappy

Give him some money and kick him onto one of `em buses.

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

What happens when Philosophy meets with very vivid imagination?
Emmanuel Ibekwe is ‘who’ happens. I am a graduate of the University of
Ibadan, but, still a student of the School of Imagination situated
inside my world, I love penning down abstract thoughts poetically or
if need be, in an article. I guess that’s what happens when Philosophy
meets with Creativity and the willingness to express it.

 

LIFE ADDICT by Jonathan Oladeji

LIFE ADDICT by Jonathan Oladeji

Life Addict

Am just craving,
I mean my hands shaking,
Twitching for some…..

Just a:
Drag, fix, high!
Just one more time,
That sick hunger,
Foul thoughts,
and fading sights.

passionate love

Resolute and wretched,
My high resolution image,
A crook and wretch,
The bottle and booze,
Seducing my shiver,
Quivering lips.

I said No more!!

Yea just yesterday,
Hooked on life,
Yet death and her red lips,
The slender of her thighs,
My blunders remain,
While I soak in the smoke.

I got a fix of life,
Took a full drag of health,
Tasted strength,
Yes her supple breasts,
The whole of me said no!
Amen!

A life addict.

 

 

 

Image source: www.wallpapercave.com

About the Author

Damilola Jonathan Oladeji is a Real Estate practitioner who loves to employ words, he is a Nigerian who believes in the power of spoken words to tangibly influence tomorrow, Mummify the past and keep the present in perspective.
He writes poems to capture the moments, stories to entice the readers into great attitudes and he loves the sound of music.

 

THE NIGHT TREASURE by Fisayo Obilaja

THE NIGHT TREASURE by Fisayo Obilaja

THE NIGHT TREASURE 

It was all dark and silent,

In a city filled with violence,

Crime was at the heart of every home,

There I was, at the city’s south gate,

Panting and silently ranting with annoyance

‘Cause there was none to rade!

‘Flickle-shikle’ I heard, sound of the city gates opening,

Pronto! my eyes and ears sprang up to alertness,

“Rich we’re tonight” I said to cosmos, my co-rader.

Slowly but surely, the late night visitor passed our little unnoticed cover.

Fat and chubby the visitor was,

Just like he eats yummy snack all his life

Exhilarated cosmos and I were,

Chucking and nodding our heads in anticipation of how thrilling his possessions would be.

Just in a moment,

There he was at the center of the city,

Looking somewhat confused! “This is the perfect moment” I concluded,

Boldly but fragile I walked, in an attempt catch my treasure for that night alone.

Staggering and dizzy like a real drunk the visitor became all too soon,

Confusion engulfed my heart!

With the despiracy still in me, I moved a little further and then, it happened,

Right into my criminal hands he slumped.

Picture

Quickly but steadily I dragged him into a narrow, silent and dark corner just before a tavern,

Hurryingly I lit my little candle and searched his body carefully for possessions while cosmos was on the watch.

In a second, I unwrapped his jacket off his chubby body, and then another jacket, and the next, and after that another and yet the fifth one!

In a great moment of surprise and confusion,

The visitor who seemed chubby was now a young beautiful lady that looked pale and exhausted!

That night, guilt and confusion ran through my veins.

Soon after, we were in my large but scanty room

“Puff-puff” she coughed taking a glass of the water.

And then, the simple beauty and smile of her face, tickled my little criminal heart!

I gazed at the empty space for a while saying

“Could it be Ade-Ronke the Oracle said I would meet some day?,

Or Ade-Dayo whom the Oracle said we’d be together? “

Only to ask of her name in a low tone, and behold

Aderonke-Adedayo her name indeed was.

“The gods be praised” I said at once!

Without haste, I soon stopped waiting at the city’s Gate, so did cosmos.

We soon fell ** ****, and the rest is history!

It was all dark and silent,

Aderonke-Adedayo, the treasure I caught that night!

 

 

About The Author

Obilaja Fisayo is a 200L computer engineering student at the Lagos state University. He has flair for poems, short stories and gives speeches and also indebted to in science. 

 

TODAY IS YESTERDAY’S TOMORROW by Francis Omode

TODAY IS YESTERDAY’S TOMORROW by Francis Omode

TODAY IS YESTERDAY’S TOMORROW
The Wise says:

TODAY is yesterday’s tomorrow

This week is last week’s next week

This month is last month’s next month

This year is last year’s new year

Alas, Time waits for no man

Tomorrow comes every TODAY I live.

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

The Lazy says:
Tomorrow is there

I have no need to sow

My quiver is full of grains

I have no need to buy seeds

Alas, Tomorrow came in the company of famine

Starvation and hunger had a field-day

The lazy starved and died tomorrow’s yesterday

The borrower says:

I am hungry now

Lend me this and that

I will pay on the full moon

The full-moon came and met him groping

Alas, The creditor knocked on the door
On the full-moon’s New-moon.

Image source: www.timemanagementninja.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My name is Francis Omode,a graduate of Mathematics from the University of Ibadan. I will share just two events from my life.  First, on 12th April 2014, in a meeting of Business Executives of a company I worked part-time, I was told to my face what looked like I’ve wasted 3 years of my life. In minutes I realized how the educational system failed in preparing me for the reality of life. I made up my mind to work on myself. I have not looked back since then. Two, “you can build your own things that other people would use” were the words of Steve Jobs that changed the way I look at life. It opened me up to the idea that a way to change the way people work,think,eat and love in Nigeria/Africa is to produce/promote “Made in Nigeria” products. For me, this is the future of Business in Nigeria.

THE TYRANNY OF MAMA DERO

THE TYRANNY OF MAMA DERO

THE TYRANNY OF MÀMA DÉRÓ

The Àkùko gàgàrà bears her gossips from town to town
Gossips of me being nothing but a greedy clown
The rat at home tells it to the farm rat and to the squirrel
Even the Irúnmolè informs the ancestors of our quarrel

This woman that I married was once sweet and delightful
Her hourglass figure and fair face that looked so beautiful
But now, the roar of a lion is nothing compared to her intimidating tone
Chai! Mama Déró’s words are quick and sharp — cutting into my very bone

The talking drum of Àrèmo murmurs something about my manhood
My own friends and relatives are afraid to visit me in the neighbourhood
They are not even sure if I am the true son of my Father, the great warrior of Ìjèbú land.
My God! I wonder if my manhood is still intact.

Mama Dero

Mama Dero

Mama Déró is a terror to all — to the Chiefs and even to the Elders.
She once tried to poison me but the Lord was my Shepherd
The old women shake their heads at me when they see me pass
I live under the tyranny of a woman called Bashòrun Gaa

Kai! I married trouble. Perhaps I was under a spell
Perhaps she was an angel of Lucipher from the pit of hell
Her fair skin that glowed in the dark hid her true colours
I actually thought she was a woman with learned cultures

Aso-òpá mewa, fifty gorodom of epo-pupa
Forty-two tubers of yam and two cows, she asked for her son’s birthday
Haba! Kílódé? Is it a sacrifice to appease the gods?!
Where does she want me to get the money from?!

In fact I wonder if Déró is truly my son or a bastard
O jìgbìjìgbìjìgbì! I cannot even send my own son on an errand.
“Don’t kill him for me,” she says, “Go and get it yourself.”
Egbàmí kè! Can’t I send my own son on an errand?

Oh! I should have known Mama Déró was not a saint
I should have known when she cursed the deaf man that lives down the street
I should have known when she agreed to marry me against her Father’s wish.
Little did I know her father was only trying to warn me that his daughter is a witch.
O wretched man that I am! Who shall save me from the tyranny of Mama Déró?

P.S. Symbolic characters: Mama Dero represents the Government, the wailer represents the people of Osun state, and Dero depicts the economy of the state.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

OLUTAYO JOY OWOJUYIGBE is a 500L medical student of the University College Hospital, Ibadan. She believes in immortality via writing and loves to write about mysteries. She is currently working on her first novel.
RITUALS by Tola Ijalusi

RITUALS by Tola Ijalusi

RITUALS

The rain comes,
clouds heavy here
but rainbow is missing.

 

Merger of shoddy elites

occupants of floors in

assemblies of nation’s houses

sited on national rock.

 

Postmen of economic issues

servicing to occurrence
scarcity of resources,
for whom we produce.
Source: Internet images

Source: Internet images

 

Abandon citizens
to tears of blood
rainfall of sorrow
enslave minds – sycophants,

exertions Earth gold futility

vanity upon vanity.

 

The rites proceeds in terms

Poverty,

Education,

Insecurity,
Projects of politics
won by thumbs signatures.

 

Sits in dark corner

by wall of defence
in exile of tormenting pasts
into petition of hopeful future.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tola Ijalusi is a native of Ado Ekiti,  resides in Ibadan, Nigeria. He writes to address certain issues in the society.
His poems are published on various literary journals and magazines such as PIN Quarterly Journal, Tuck Magazine, The Poet Community, Lunar Literary Poetry Page, Literary Vox etc. 
He was also featured in the 2015 31 Days of Poetry on EGC CREATIVITY.
 

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