I just returned back from Okwa,
the only place I call home,
where my umbilical cord connects
where my first cry was heard
There could never be life without here
I just returned from Okwa
A long wearing walk it was
40km on foot.
Through an endless body of forest
Under fierce rainfall and tens of swelling rivers
And oh how my knees ache!
I just returned from Okwa
Drowning in the pool of my own tears
How things have changed
Amidst shattered schools, battered Healthcare
Broken souls, broken hopes
Yes things have changed
Only for the worst
I just returned from Okwa
Wondering if same clay moulded us all
Thinking just where we went wrong
amidst nature's gift we are bound to not enjoy
By the same nation sapping, yet forsaking us
Leonard Akwo
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 1:25 PM UTC
My dear, do you want to know
why this stream shall never cease to flow
why this countenance shall know no smile
why in vain you realease torent of bile
for eternity shall my face shall hide from the sun
and ever shall be till this ugly scenario run
cut off from every string joint to my mind
to recall no more that gruesome day
Limbeh turned a cadavar awaiting decay
how my heart tremble while my tongue relates
the incident that turned an early widow late
the night before, cried a owl across at nightfall
grandpa beheld and discerned the mysterious call
tapped he my shoulder, his voice sharp as fangs
look beyond the pregnant night in labour pangs
waiting to birth a child as mysterious as the cry
Ekumbo! May i live not to witness that melancholic night(he sighed)
a thing unheard of in Aweh beyond countless centuries
worth plunging a kingdom into an endless misery
frightened, departed me with my ribs to my cradle to fall
holdin his words to await he upon whom the lot shall fall
so as the pregnant night did flipped
departed then this poor widow to her field
to gather bread for her fatherless kids
then in agony their lips they bit
as their eyes rained torrents
and their sobs burned fervent
when the fatal tiding was unleashed
a thing which feared hearts and andrenaline released
how she bent beneath a dry iroko gathering yam
in her distant and lonely farm
a branch uphigh cracked
turned she to see the source of the crack
behold a log fell on her skull
pouring out what was left of her brain- all
keeling rightward, she fell as her spirit transcended a plane beyond
a place so gray, so blund
now poor orphans, as poppies to be shared
departed they to various kins to be rared
and daily this dirge about her goes
as villagers their drum beat and lyre blow
forget not the story of the unfortunate widow
who for the door, took the window
and drank not from the spring of old age
nor for her maternal labour achieved a wage
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 1:22 PM UTC
O rest from the trouble, my soul
For love has dealt you a tough blow
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 1:19 PM UTC
This World
This world
twisted cord
many pains
little gains
many tears
little cheers
Freedom song
echoes strong
from ladies
from babies
'stop ****** '
cries mother
No answer
no panacea
heads burst
hearts burst
time flies
hope dies
many wrongs
how long
oh morrow
what sorrow!
Hearts fail
sad tale
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC
In your eyes
I see the sword of a million rivals
Clashing with firey rage
Some falling
Some striving
What driving eyes!
In your eyes
I see the hopes of a hundred lovers
Longing for the one and only angel
It's a fresh hope
for a fresh dawn
What promising eyes!
In your eyes
Please unlock the mystery
Heroes are stumbling
Warriors are crumbling
Tell me what a charm
In your eyes so lovely!
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
She's a feminist
It's her terms, it's her world
She's such an extremist
She's bound by no cord
She's just her own lord
Save the argument
She's already the winner
Keep your judgement:
She's stripped of manners
She's such a sinner
Perhaps you don't know
She's dealt with the feeling
Your opinion matter no more
She acts because she's willing
She's her queen be your King
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 12:29 AM UTC
My dear, do you want to know
why this stream shall never cease to flow
why this countenance shall know no smile
why in vain you realease torent of bile
for eternity shall my face tarry behind the sun
and ever shall be till this ugly scenario run
cut off from every string joint to my mind
to recall no more that gruesome day
Limbeh turned a cadavar awaiting decay
how my heart tremble while my tongue relates
the incident that turned an early widow late
the night before, cried a owl across at nightfall
grandpa beheld and discerned the mysterious call
tapped he my shoulder and opened his phangs
look beyond the pregnant night in labour pangs
waiting to birth a child as mysterious as the cry
Ekumbo! May i live not to witness that melancholic night(he sighed)
a thing unheard of in Aweh beyond countless centuries
worth plunging a kingdom into an endless misery
frightened, departed me with my ribs to my cradle to fall
holdin his words to await he upon whom the lot shall fall
so as the pregnant night did flipped
departed then this poor widow to her field
to gather bread for her fatherless kids
then in agony their lips they bit
as their eyes rained in torrent
and their sobs grew even fervent
when the fatal tiding was unleashed
a thing which feared hearts and andrenaline released
how she bent beneath a dry iroko gathering yam
in her distant and lonely farm
a branch uphigh cracked
turned she to see the source of the crack
behold a log fell on her skull
pouring out what was left of her brain- all
keeling rightward, she fell as her spirit transcended a plane beyond
a place so gray, so blund
now poor orphans, as poppies to be shared
departed they to various kins to be rared
and daily this dirge about her goes
as villagers their drum beat and lyre blow
forget not the story of the unfortunate widow
who for the door, took the window
and drank not from the spring of old age
nor for her maternal labour achieved a wage
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC