Showing posts from December, 2015

Where was my Papa?

Where was he?
He seemed to have released
Those millions and me in such a hurry;
Quelled his phallic hunger
And cycled off without a worry.

Where was he since he closed
That door behind ?
Perhaps opening more doors;
Making more maddened babies -
Plundering hearts of the ladies,
Fouling their fine lives
And brushing them all behind.

Where was he since he brushed mama
And I behind?
Perhaps, he forgot we weren’t the only
Things he’d brushed behind:
He once did his glossy black hairs too,
And his photos won’t hide that, too.

And I'll ask once more:
What did he do with his hairs’ blackness?
Because he is bent and back
And pleads I care for the grey ones.
Where was papa? Where was he?

By: Jude Ifeme

Photo: Dreamstime

The Soul

One day, I shall awake
To a sunless morn;
I shall soar amongst windless air:

Jupitar? Hop!
Mercury? Hop!

I shall tour the universe at whim
and blinks,
Having shed all this weight.

©Jude Ifeme Pic: funmayo

Poets of Ghetto Streets

Poets of ghetto streets,
They are not poets at all,
Just a bunch of loose marauding louts
Whose heads are best un-kept;
They shout and foul the peaceful
Air awakening the end of time.

Poets of ghetto streets,
Can’t be poet for us!
Their manners stink
Their minds in kink
Of liquor and weeds
And staggering dance
They know not day or end.

Poets of ghetto streets,
Do they know the world at all?
They are ferocious men
Living dingy lives
And blame the world for their plight.

They are poets of ghetto streets,
How come they speak for all?

By: J.Ifeme

Photo credit


She sings
She sees the signs
Of sins once lived She sings and reminisces
Of seas of pleasure now pain.
She sings all the way
And smiles sad memories away;
She craves to live today
And dies to be free of gone-by days on life's freeway
She dreads the face of tomorrow
And bathes in deep-thought sorrow

This grief lives in the marrow
Jude Ifeme
Photo credit