THE LADY KILLER

Down the isle he walks with content

With eyes glancing from hither and thither

Finally he sees a stand

And in no time is in his caboose

Besides an innocent heart…

With the sotto voce of a mighty deity he mutters,

hello…

Slowly like a prey she is drawn into his nest

This is the Lady Killer

Well brimmed, good looking

His cachet even the atheist cannot refuse

Whom with no time is no more.

But for the poor lass,

Unknowingly she falls into his trap

Mesmerized by his looks!

Blindfolded of the dangerous claws he carries

That in case she is stung,

Sorry, we have to cut short our poem…

THE SON OF AKBADA

Are you not the son of Akbada

The tender-hearted man who;

Although he died a long time ago had only one hen.

Whenever it laid an egg hesitated not to share with the whole village.

When we saw you, we saw your father in you

The generosity and kind-heartedness

That you would follow his steps and bring change

We were tired of being played tee-a-tete

That was why we chose you

We did not care of how you side-walked your shoes

What you ate or wore

Everywhere you went you tried to enlighten part of us

Correcting the higher powers to disdain evil

our focus was on your mind

With all humility though, your face was buried in your hands

And you seemed to have bewitched us

Your words were like that of a god

With authority you seemed to shun evil

Taking to afar place our mind

Building castles of the good life to come

causing our children to dream that;

Unemployment, poverty, corruption would be history

But after all demons are not born; demons are made

Where are your dreams?

Not more than as good as dead.

In our lips it was only you

Our women danced at your appearance

And when you won;

We sang, we danced, we cried that our saviour had arrived

It was like rouse; the whole village was in a jamboree

And you re-assured the fulfilment of our dreams.

Not until the demon possessed you

Not until you had a taste of the honey

And when you realized that the honeycomb would not dry

You forgot about yourself

That it was us who took you there

You started living in Sheraton and driven in huge cars

Black suited with Swiss bank account holders

The village that was once your home became a foreign land

Walking, eating, wearing, friends all changed

And you considered us like chaff sieved in the wind.

A RADIO MESSAGE

“My heart has been weeping all these years

Crying Hailing bleeding Groaning Lonely

Trying to look for who can smooth-en it

Seeing others enjoy life

But it, living in solitude

Wishing for something…

But one day a miracle will happen

That day, That very same day

Guess it will be awesome

The birds won’t hesitate to wake me up by their chi chi tunes

From the east, There will be a bright sparkling glow of the sun

It won’t cease to rise up

Earlier on, the sky would have been full of twinkling stars

And among them

One that shone brighter than others

Which I would have called it My dream Princess

Then afterwards had sweet dreams

And have a scrumptious breakfast

Before I tune on my radio

To listen to the sweet voice of a new born angel

Saying; Good morning my Love”