While the city life unsettles,
The clock ticks-
The city's big upon the fella's eyes,
Hustling and bustling the streets,
Many have come in search of black gold,
Yet locked in the dark!
The fella's first disappointment- The black golds are never what imagined!
The city streets' ever busy
and bizarre:
Some are drunk to stupor
And wander in forgetfulness!
And at the inn ways are lady merchandise,
A sight that jerks the popper's boxers!
Haleluyah blares
the preacher-man on the microphone;
Heaven is far as it's near!
The men on black extorts from motorists,
And proclaims them holy!
The hamartans have come again!
And it whirl-winds the street corners.
The hungry tattered girl twirls in the wind's blow,
Her skirt billowd in the wind!
See the lil boys and girls hucking oranges on the highway,
Its Port Harcourt city!
Come and buy,
come and buy...
The highways are another shopping mall.
Whiles the sun falls asleep,
The moon brings another day!
No hush at dusk in the city,
And at twilight is another day!
The underbriges are roomlets
And many are without fixed addresses.
Life is real as it's fake
The fellas are now land owners.
So the enigma of life;
Comes on and on
Until the lots of many are met.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem