Too pretty to sell it out,
My eyes are still open in the midday,
Tears drop when I try to blink,
Though I wasn’t crying, when tears
Were dropping like snow in the middle of my nipples.
She is so cute like Draga Masin of then
I have told Napoleon of our tales and he called it love
Stronger than his and his angel, Josephine,
Romeo also wishes he loved Juliet the way I do,
When I told him yesterday beside Alexander’s palace…
Lancelot and Guinevere met me there
And they threw this rose to me as a compliment,
When their jealous driver
Arthur was about to send them to early Grave.
Beautiful creatures from thee Oh Lord,
Remind thy self of the thought of our creation
And make every day around us beautiful like you made.
Where is she now? Am I losing her?
Oh tell me, who lost who?
Love lost love. Memory shall pay the price.
Copyright: Apeh Alexandra Ojima
So, It Comes Again
And so, it comes again to flush
The new sit of order and authority.
The time that conceive inability, rushing
Slowly it comes again from the west
While north and east are shouting.
As it comes, the hustle and bustle has also come.
Men and women are restless as the marching soldiers.
Campaign of another man
Telling and hailing the future hold.
Before the row with sugar and magi,
Are they not those that rein us dead season?
They are! Those promises with hills of leisure,
Those that make covenant with the gods of the land.
All will be done, all will be done.
It bounces and bang around like roaring lion.
Schools and hospital are unapproved,
Roads and sun will construct after voting them in.
But always again, again, and again nothing happens.
All the hustle and bustle,
Telling and hailing comes to pass.
Billion season after the promises
Covenants pass by.
Young and old are giraffes
Waiting for compensation and appreciation.
Many wait a thousand days
But not a dove run out of the hole.
Men and women dangling and wrangling,
Crying a sweet cry over the expected saviour;
He has done to us thus.
Those that we appointed as protectors
Suddenly change to crab and all
Shading shame like water from mountain Everest.
Moving another way beyond the good of all
To the goodness of themselves.
They march over our dreams and hope.
Under the cage of moon-less night
They ‘jango de jango’
Setting traps to destroying the hope of men;
Turning our meat to stone,
Changing our sweet to bitter
Which we are unable to find a melody
Replacing our order for another.
They are beautiful bad saviours
With gentle arrogance
But innocent criminal.
They are all we say
As they steal both heaven and earth.
And so, it comes again that our leaders
Give us the gift of tragedy …
Copyright: Victor Oinu