Ifeanyi John Nwokeabia

When the head horribly bang
Ululating like a gong in the heat of dance
Drawing the veins holding the brains
Never give up, fight to live.
...

On this garden
Shall I plough & plant
All the seedlings
Of my pumpkin.
...

The bed is a sacred desecrated altar
Its soft nature makes it vulnerable
Its short term memory brings repeated torture
Destruction of greats is masterminded in it
...

Mother Ochíchí,
You bare your naked breasts like nectars
To the suckling pleasure of your children
Whose helpless dehydrated throats seek succor
...

Flowing alone without you
Is a sickness beyond all herbs
For your presence gives energy to my being
Our confluence at Lokoja
...

Ụwa bú ótụ Mbia

Ekwe kụọ, ámá ágbá
Agughe ụzọ, agughe ọnu
...

Ala niile gbara ụwa gburugburu bu ótu
Ikwu amaghị, ibe ya ezi ya bu ije ụwa
Onweghi onye ma ebe nwanne ya si eku ume
Mmiri n' ezoro ọgaranya n' ezoro ogbenye.
...

We know not the date
When the drum will sound
And our breath snuffed out
Abandoning the flail flesh
...

As infantile bodies,
We are recruited,
With high risk training,
On mouth bombing & souls devouring.
...

Tree shines and blooms
Unmoved by the tides of seasons
Hence, dances in the wind
Swims in the rain & sweats under sun.
...

A serene wind slapped the eve
With a hilarious chatter of dusk
Returning tired bodies to their abodes
Engaged in chattering banters of the day
...

the world
is destroyed.
the institutions
are dead.
...

when hunger howls & roars like lion
throwing rocks and pebbles at sun-drenched back
flipping its razor like fangs on helpless tummies
and striking with a devouring aplomb on defenceless intestines
...

When the world goes round
It cricks and cracks
Upturning and scattering
Like a hungry earthquake
...

Tell me gently dear,
How much do the plots of land
In your heart cost?
I have these seedlings of love
...

In a whole wide world of bliss
An idle lonely heart seeks succour
Inwardly sobbing to a bottle of rejection
Suffered in the hands of claimed lovers
...

The East falls in a single swoop
The fellers are describably unknown
And their actions are felt at the barks of trees
...