Chris Jibero Poems

Giving isn't a sport for the selfish
Nor a game for the greedy
Who are unrepentantly frightful
Of time and season ahead
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With my photochromic goggles
Viewed I my nuclear family
In the moon
Mama gladly singing me a lullaby
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Cast away this stygian looks
From your famous cherubic face
So eager to contaminate
And turn a pulpit of praise
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Parents
Relatives
Teachers
Neighbours
...

Merciless sun rays tormented my bare back
Whose cover it had dissolved
Like sleeping palm oil in a red hot frying pan
As I laboured to tidy up another man's farm
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Western education is anathema
Boko Haram
Sounding like alarm
Preaches in this age and time
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Aghast
Bemused
Confounded
Distraught
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Fly back to me
like an eagle
on a gainful swoop
and abide by me eternally
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Dodging deadly ditches
Dressed as luxurious divans
By the dashing dubious
To entice and entrap
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Barring fate and destiny
A harsh today is often
The child of an uncharted yesterday
A voyage without compass
...