Eket 0.5
Here it rains on Mondays - right at the break of dawn on Sundays too, so we stay home. It rains on sad days, happy days and even on days when we wear
Poetry
A collection of 27 posts
The Happiness jar
I made a happiness jar Out of an old lotion container; transparent, label peeled off, cover glued shut Just a slit for the memories to slide in and breathe That day the sun
Dark days
There is something in the darkness that knew my name Knew how to whisper it right, and make my ears burn Made me weary of the light, Of flowers, of laughter and the
No. 33
Today, I passed by No. 33 again And like all the other times, I imagine your face, your smile - into beautiful and bright coloured murals, then paint them out on the glass
Nostalgia
When I pass through villages, On trips home - from equally classy towns I’m filled with this longing of a life, A life I once had Of green, wild bushes, Farmlands and
A Random Harmattan Night in Abuja
I was first drawn to the leaves - the leaves, brown and layered out on the ground Occasionally they would rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall In continued obeisance to
Does Sun sit on clouds?
This morning the sun confused me. She told me there was east – where she sat. But she can’t be wrong – she’s always been there. There I’ve always taken to be
The Plea
Stay here and love me let me bask in your laughter, conspire against june... For death is- an unwilling pilgrim always, seeking a little rest
Home Burial
The old man left a will to this effect: (He wrote so much as his diaries show.) Should I inconvenience you yet again With details of his words of wishes – They’re indeed
On Her Breath
My wife’s breathing and mine Never come at the same time, Thankfully, they’re out of sync. You could wish that they do - It would make a fine statement For our
Love Owes Me One
I promised myself I’d never write a poem about love, At least until I could understand what love really is, But here I am, penning down these words about love. I imagine
See The Light
A light there is all ought to see The way it's meant to be: At every dawn it comes up free! And so it's meant to be. A light