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Showing posts from October, 2010

Lamentation

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You could hear the voices of the weak pine under the feet of neglect.

You could see hunger in her commercial face, while disease withers the essence of the being.

You could find hope ‘for sale’ on the altars of deceit, where men play god to rise above penury line.

You could see the deprived rob the deserted of their right to life to score a point in a game of the conscienceless.

You could see fortunes change as another good man finds a gap to sink his teeth in the large corrupt pie.

O’ great citadel cast on the shoulders of deceit, O’ great citadel where only they can sit…

You could see deprave disciples battling to un-break the dawn of new beginnings –

You could see a nation torn between men who want it all and men, who want it all,
men who have it all, depriving all.

©J.Ifeme




Electric-city

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No – it is not the carbon monoxide
which desiccates the air that gets at you,
It is the tatatatatatatatttttttttttt…
Papapapapapapappppppppppp…
Tutututututututututtttttttttttttt –
they screw serenity on all sides
leaving you half-sane in your quasi-self-sufficiency!

You’ll get discordant tunes to your rhythm and blues
blabbering mess when you need the news
and a strained string to your vocal chord –
that’s if you already can condone the commotion!

You will find a discreet scowl for your neighbors
When their only crime is joining the electric-city!
Just like you!
Away from the days when you
Never Expect Power Always
But it occurs to you baptism don’t cast old demons
They create new ones
PHCN –
Please Help Create Noise!

© J.Ifeme




Useful Idiots

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If the man is unwise
You could take his best grape
And sell him wine ten times the worth

You could give him a meal
For his permission, and rule his life.
Perhaps, make him slave for a life-time.

At some point, every man treads the fools’ path,
More so the intelligentsia wastelands
Where useful idiots abound

No greater a fool than that man
With the wisest of minds who is but a tool
In the hand of the powerful and unscrupulous.

© J.Ifeme





Dummy Damsel

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She’s got the Hollywood face And the grace of five-plus height, Her demeanor without shy or slight As she flaunts the latest craze.
The gaze of the dummy damsel – Eyes the hue of hazel Beneath gorgeous lace hat Will race any man’s heart,
But she’s got no taste for the Gucci And all the trendy designers, Not gullible, not itchy For dates or late night dinners
Solitary in the world of big Barbies,   Far removed from kiss or hug or touch, Or the content of a life-time walk Down the aisles of a church
This lavish beauty will never cry or laugh Or moan, or know a rhythmic swirl All she ever does is look Beautiful in a half-broken smile. © J.Ifeme  

She‘s a Tot

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Someone's She Is

Do you believe in faces on magazines?
Wonder why the next girl isn't so fine?
If you could read in-between the lines
Then you'd know who she is

I know it's her figure you trace
The eyes, nose and the face
But if you knew inner grace
Then you'd know who she is

Without you she'd walk the street
Your words aren't all she will eat
Save your love, so be it
Someone's dream woman yet she is

J.Ifeme

And It's 50 Years of Questions

If you are not one of those Nigerians who have driven us all to this socio-economic doldrums, then you would also realize there is nothing worth celebrating. If are not one of those who have become sycophant of circumstance – just to get by, if you don’t want to live a moment that is not glorious in anyway, perhaps you would understand that when 99% of the general population of a nation live unfulfilled lives in a country as rich as ours that questions should be asked.
Today there are fanfares, colorful dresses and feigned smiles. The roads are even painted and dignitaries from all over the world will be arriving to pop Champagne over our shame. Nations that began this journey, like us, half a century ago, some later, will be here; doesn’t it bother us that they will wonder “oh, is this the six largest producer of oil in the world?” 
We are done with fifty year of cover-ups, fifty years of make-believe, fifty year of playing the giant, but now the time has come to truly emerge from depr…