"enu" poems
Oru poovithal kozhiyumpole
Oru mudiyizha kozhiyumpole
Kshanikam ee jeevitham
Angakale enu karuthiya
Oru kootukaran
Maadi vilikumpole
Oru vaaku mindathe
Thelum bhayamilathe
Avan than Karam pidichu
Munneriyo
Engakale ninakayi
Kaathorthavarkayi
Thirike varumo
Akale oru udhyanam
Ninakayi panithu
Eniyula jeevitham
En koode enothiya
Kunji kootukaranopam
Engotu maanju poyi
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 5:34 AM UTC
If Ondo is used for settlers
And Ogun is a river
Tell me about Oyo, an empire
You mispell Gwosh as Jos
Recognised Sokoto, a market
Far away from Osun, a river
Lakes is to Lagos
As Kogin is to Kogi
And Kebbi is synonymous to Ka'abba
Janzama, women power inspired Katsina
But Kano was a Blacksmith
While Kaduna means Crocodile
The people of the golden soils of Jigawa
To the river Imo Mmiri
They don't speak Gombe at all
Take me to the hills of "Enu Ugwu"
Following the hills in "Okiti"
Without navigating through Iduu
All Ebonyi are "Aboine"
Close the Delta that marries the atlantic
And Oyono, makes you Cross River
Don't say Benue, say "Binuwe"
Balga, Yelga, Salga formed Bayelsa
And I love Kasashen Bauchi
"Anyim Oma Mbala kwenu!"
But I love ladies from "Kwa Iboe"
Only legends understands this
Tell them I told you
Adamawa is a warrior
While Abia is a coinage
If I missed your state
Go back to the history books
This is just a drill...
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC
write a poem during daylight hours, and with day,
as with night, the embodiment of magpie cackle
a laughter resounds; at the zenith...
seppuku;
or as i feel, at the council of Elrond,
with those Celtic ghosts of sirens
once more, candle wax poured into the
blind eyes of Homer to see once more...
into a resurrection of shadows as
thought of embodiment of touch:
that shadows mediate ghostly behaviours and
souls inspect a unifying concept for heretical
deviations of what became of men
with the power of fractions...
such that Odysseus heard them, as i do,
although in another diversion, once more,
that these be the same sirens,
such as they are, Celtic in origin;
i did indeed pour wax into the eyes of Homer
in order to light a flint for sight in him,
and exposed my ears to the song likewise
kindred to Odysseus,
and too went mad...
if only in private, the same lullaby;
so why expect me to be fulfilled with the mundaneness
of what mortals cherish, i wish for a speedier death
having been robbed of a sudden death...
i want a second suddenness, careless as to what
governs life & death: old age -
let me walk through the sudden shutters,
that plague of yours of suddenly turning day to night...
let me pass through this plague once more,
having failed to pass it the first time...
or at least let my ageing superior bury me,
for i have no strength to upkeep a talk of shaded honours,
should all honour be that of oriental principles,
i too am a willing soul to join them from the crippling
standard of what's to be accomplished in the western guise
of wisdom: nowhere else is old age such a curse as here,
when the expulsion of youth begins so early and levers
the gritted tooth's revenge seen later in what's to be
expected via swans' inhibitory kept alliance to the ring,
in joy as in sorrow... i weep my mother's tears,
for no lover was bound to me bold enough to keep a year
in my heart fr me to experience the mundaneness
to rise from a spoon and imagine the sun in the ever changing
form of the moon in daylights... to **** in dreams...
i haven't experienced a single season in Eden...
as in joy, then as too in sorrow...
how prematurely i weep over my grave,
engraved in ashen lettering on the Ganges in that Milky
Way toward Kamad(h)enu... until the last orphan,
and until the first adventure, i too, there.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC