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Morgan Mar 2015
I thought going to his funeral
when we were 14
& he was 15
would always occupy
the darkest,
most excruciating
space in my soul

Until her funeral,
when we were
all 16

But I was wrong,
both times

It wasn't losing
our wisest friend
to raging hormones,
****** parents
& a rope
that left the
strangest,
most mutated
bruise

And
It wasn't losing
our quirkiest friend
to striking anger,
a rainy night on
a windy road
& a sports car
that left the
deepest,
most potent
cut

It was losing you

And having this crushing
knowledge that you still
live in the town
that we grew up in,

you still light fires
in the back yard
where we used to
drink your dad's beer
and play his guitar,

you still sleep on the mattress
we used to drag down two
narrow flights of stairs
into your living room
on Saturday nights
when the stars were clear
through your sky lights,

you still drive that
Subaru outback
that's decorated in
dents & scratches
from all the times
we needed to
feel brave,

you still get the mail
at the bottom of
that dirt driveway
we scraped our knees on
every summer from
the time we were
twelve til the time
we were eighteen

And knowing that none
of that matters

The most unique agony
that's ever turned
in my stomach
is having this crushing
knowledge that
if I stretch my
arms out far enough,
I can poke you in your
puffy hazel eyes
but fearing you have
grown so cold
that my fingers
might just freeze
on contact

It's missing you
when you are so close
that I can smell
your tires burning
on the gravel
up Stone Road
but not being able
to hear your voice
the way I remember it,
all laced in
purple warmth
& yellow light

The selfish truth is,
at least I know why
Kris & Sergei
aren't with me,

at least I can tell
myself that if they
still existed on the same
earth as me at all
they'd continue to
tell me stories
sitting Indian style
across from me on
my kitchen floor

You're a rawer,
more lethal
kind of aching,

a more honest,
more dangerous
kind of void,

cause you know that
I am still right here
but it's not enough

You lost those friends too

You know how it felt

And despite all the breaking
you did for them,
you chose to **** me off
like some rotting
parasite in your
passenger's seat

I filled myself with
you for eight years
And if I could
be open with you
one last time,
I'd tell you that
I'm scared shitless
to tip myself over
and let that all
pour out
cause I don't
want to find out
that without you,
murky water
and slush
is all that's left

But like you always said,
"Let's ******* do this thing
before it gets away"
Qweyku May 2014
As you attempt to pour more political doctrine down my throat
I check the change in my pocket
for
the laxative I‘ll have to buy
from my legal drug dealer

REALLY!?!

Did you not know that your words are;

indigestible,

incorrigible

&  

wholly corruptible?

How do you manage
to
politically caress your own eardrums
reach
through your sinuses,
tickling
the lining of your
esophagus
and yet,
make me cough?!

Your response to truth is truly painful,
you feel it in your chest,
your ***** heaves and razes
you have a fit gesticulating policies
flipping birds that won’t fly

It’s too late!

Mr "I went to Oxford so I must have the plan"
Mr Self-Interest man
Mr  Ivy-league, Whitehouse, Whitehall...."Cambridge was better",
Mr  I can do all things that superman can.
Mr  “If we win the elections next year”...

Man

Take your leave,
your term is over,
School is out
&  
the old boys no longer love you.

Time!
to
run for
cover,
under the
colour,
of
your favoured
currency umbrella.

But

If you’re African  
"it's okay"  
you can stay a little while longer
and bequeath the throne
to your brothers', sisters', uncles', sons' junior brother!

Turn it into a dy-nasty

Bring on board;

Kwadjo,
Mary,
Abena,
Kwesi,
Uncle Nepa,
Sista Tism
&
Aunt Ivy.

Ah-Geee!!!

This nonsense is highly unpalatable
I’m past the word puke
my bile sack is empty
because your drunkenness is spreading

&  

y o u’r e

s t i l l

b l o w i n g

m e

f u m e s!



Your democracy
has made your Guinea-Pigs
demi crazy,
has captured this poets’ goat
Slaughtered it
&*
mandated this verbal frenzy

Enough!

Of this alcoholic experiment
I’m not drinking anymore,
I’ve cried blood!
and now *"my eyes are red"

Looking forward
to being 'tee-totally' sober,
while
U


c o n t e m p l a t e

t h i s  

v e r s e

o f

p o e t i c,

p o l i t i c a l,

M U R D E R.



**© Qwey.ku
James Gibek Jude Apr 2015
Sound of a pen clattering
Admonishing beauty of arts rendering
Lines of rhyme rhyming
Mixed with rhythm rhythming
Like a poem life flowing
Like a drama life pushing
Like a prose life rushing
And then comes representing
Unrepentant life projectoring
The literati's lyrical lyricalling
Recalling the gods of writing
With written words calling
Calling calling calling coming
And hence societal ills hiding
Bad leaders, leadership running
Disillusioned souls troubling
Marginalised masses crying
And crime rate like jet flying
Bombs like pure water exploding
Politicians still stealing and looting yet fearing
Fear! phobia! fear embracing
Minimum wage hurting Governors like bee stinging
Unemployment destroying like earthquaking
Half baked graduate graduating
Our education unseriously provoking
Undefined boundaries exposing
Immigrants immigrating
Police, Soldiers, customs, Road safety, etc all corrupting like they feeding...
Inec election in chaos resulting
Nigeria a name of peoples's confusing
NEPA, WATER, ROAD, HOSPITAL unrealistic absurding...
Corruption! corrupting!! corruptioning!!! Are we starting or finishing? Building or destroying?
The lyric of the literati busy deconstructing...
I met Solomon today.

We met at Ecclesiastes.

And while having lunch with him,
I asked him to tell me how it feels to be dead.

And he said

"Death is a permanent sleep".

I know that already.

"It's all darkness," he further said,  

"Darkness, darkness all the way.
Silence, silence forevermore "

That sounds freaky.

"Yes, and even more in this case,

You'll not receive credit alert again".

"???"

"Yes, and even this your big phone-sef,
Some ******* will claim it,
and be pressing it anyhow.

No more emails too,
No Facebook nor WhatsApp messages.
No phone calls nor text messages.


And then, those pictures you took while eating
Ice-cream and fooling around at Shoprite and Coldstone,

You won't be able to post them again.

You will not know what comments you got,  
Nor what silly emojis were dropped on them.
No one will tell you how fat you look
Nor how much flesh you no longer have,
Your frown will be but nothing to see,
Your smile  too will have no meaning.

No birthday parties, and no more hangouts,
No teasing, no laughing, no funning about

No Christmas rice and chicken stew.
No clothes, no makeup, no shàkara.

You won't even hear when your friends laugh
Nor laugh at the cries of your so called foes.

No football match to watch or argue about
No Betnaija, no updates.


Your girlfriend too will find new love.
You'll no longer get her meechà-meechà
No love, no hugs, no kisses too.
No groaning, no moaning, no mènè-mènè

No sunlight nor moonlight play,
No Nepa light nor candle light

Darkness, darkness all the way
Silence, silence forevermore

You won't receive newsletters too,  
Nor read newspapers in your grave.

No need for hope from promises made
and no more pain from those letdowns

Like something that never existed,
You'll be gone forevermore.

Gone into the dark,
Dark, dark silence.

So live life more, as much as you can,
Eat well, sleep more, work out, dream.
Cause no trouble, curse no one.
Be your self and have more fun,
Take less work and live just right.
Let  good deeds be  your footprints"
BLACK*

I am black coz I walk under the sun all day!
I am black coz my anger dictates my tone!
I am black coz the police is my friend!
I am black coz ave swam in gutters and bath in rains!
I am black coz I rode tires and felt excited!
I am black coz mummy and daddy was my favorite game!
I am black coz of chike and the river!
I am black coz my best haircut was skin punk(molo)!
I am black coz I never wrote 1jamb!
I am black coz unilorin was always my 1st choice!
I am black coz OMO is what we call all detergent!
I am black coz of my village people!
I am black coz I tried making my own Airtime!
I am black coz every Noodles is indomie!
I am black coz I believe in God but juju is a back up!
I am black coz all shoe makers are aboki!
I am black coz ur fada is a big insult!
I am back coz up NEPA is a joy giver!
I am black coz I dnt shout back at my parents!
I am black coz I always go on strike!
I am black coz every Musa is a gateman!

I am black not because the mirror nor my skin tells me that but because I have experienced all this.

Black is not a colour but an identity!!!

                   *Ojuolape Isaac Mfa
Davyd Adejoh Jun 2019
©PmcCoywrites 2019


Imagine life in only black and white.
Imagine life that we are robots.
Mere machines covered with flesh.
Ordered around at the click of a button.

Imagine life that Nigerian politicians are saints.
That angels are now men;
seeking salvation
and us humans are holy.

Imagine life where all men can love themselves.
That all men are equal.
Slaves can share the same bed with their master.

Imagine life was chaos free.
Where you can leave your house open,
Till dawn and no burglar visits.

magine life where terrorists would serve;
in mosques and churches as protocols.
Welcoming people warmly to sit.

Imagine life where we don't have to live on cellphones.
Where we can have time for families;
than pressing our phones.

Imagine life where we can love each other;
like little innocent babies do.
Where smile is on the cheek of many.
Where hatred is a thing of the past.
Where we no longer have fear for strangers.

Imagine life where PHCN stop buying generator set.
And we no longer have to shout UP NEPA.
Imagine Life.
Babatunde Raimi Sep 2020
When you left, I was empty
You took a part of me away
And travelled with it
In my sleep I sway and move
Dancing to the tunes of the flute we play
But the sound is no longer intriguing
Like the times you press the notes

I prayed to the gods for your safe return
Offered sacrifices for favour
You are my yesterday, my today, my tomorrow
Even when your clothing mask your beauty
It still radiates like the stars beautifully tucked above
When I swim in your river of dreams
I get drunk in the desire to swim therein forever

I miss you like Nepa; my Paradise
I cuddle your picture all day long
A perfect definition of insanity I guess
Your absence makes me feel banged up
I just want you by my side now and forever
For a re-union will be worth all the gold in the world
When are you coming back My Paradise?

— The End —