Nsisong Effiong

When you die, The world doesn't stop The bird who sang by your window Does not sing a mournful tune It's totally oblivious of its loss of audience The

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Waiting is sad if you do not know what you are waiting for, worse still, if you realise too late that you were waiting for the train right after it leaves the station

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Family To run to or run from but just enough to map, your personal piece of earth. Friends Who will not scare away your lurking shadow when the curtain closes. Happiness Self measured.

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If I am in your heart, how come I do not I feel it. I figure I should be warm and tinkling over from all the furious pumping your heart has to do

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January. The harmattan dust arrived like a virulent new strain of some long forgotten deadly virus. I got home one evening and it was just there, a thin film covering everything. Naturally, I

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I think about you a lot because you are always around me in the melody of the beautiful songs I listen to in a piece of poetry that strikes a chord Even when

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Lavender. My dear child, Some things in life are certain. The sun for instance, will always rise in the east. Some days it will yawn and stretch Some days it will bounce and

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Lavender. Her hair smelled like lavender. I promised I'd buy her a drink If she'd tell me her name. She smiled at me instead And I bought her drinks

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At the end of the day some things matter poetry, music, love.

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Almost anywhere you need to go in this town Is a fifty naira bike away through a network of small roads with regular speed bumps and mean looking potholes. From home to the

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I do not know if there is a good death but I know there are bad ones the worst is when you don't see it coming one moment you are smiling

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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

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