The Mixed Soup
The mind was once a clear, familiar track,
But now the words slip off and won't come back.
A conversation starts, then fades away,
...
The secret, sacred pact
Oji, palm wine, and the ringing Ogene
Orchestrate the heartbeat of the Igbo square.
...
Onye Aghala Nwanne Ya
(Leave No One Behind)
...
'The risen sun has come to stay'
Once in the dustbin of history,
A slippery, slimy, and unstable general
...
The risen sun has come to stay 2.
Under the same untrustworthy general,
Who feared to accept his own firstborn son,
...
The Twenty-Pound On My Mind
Ndigbo: Biafra, Lost A War sixty year before
...
The Unwinding Road
Love is a profound and a breath-taking grace,
A shield that protects the heart's fragile place
...
A Holistic Peace
The World over, longs for peace, lasting peace
Communities yearning to peaceful coexist in harmony.
...
Not A Stain, But A Root
They see a shadow and name it a threat.
...
I speak for my friend
Who has lost all his friends.
They are not aware of his plights
His fights, fear of flight
...
I speak for my friend
Who has lost all his friends.
They are not aware of his plights
His is fighting, his fear of flight
...
My Conversation With Diaspora And Mama Africa
Akabuland, Africa, Akabuland
...
A Veil of Fire
A Veil of Fire
In the shadows of Nigeria's vibrant cities
...
The 'Eze Ndi Igbo' (series)
King of Igbos in foreign lands
Common tittle explodes into a storm
...
Addictive development enjoys boredom
The desire to dive in for more, more of the exotics
Not mentioning every other thing but for narcotics
That creates the fake and fallacious stardom
...
Poets corner)
The Mixed Soup
The Mixed Soup
The mind was once a clear, familiar track,
But now the words slip off and won't come back.
A conversation starts, then fades away,
Lost in the shifting fog of everyday.
This is no single storm, no solo grief,
But a slow theft that robs the mind of peace.
T's a mixed soup of the things I used to know,
Where simple tasks and thoughts begin to slow.
The recent past dissolves like morning mist,
Leaving a blank, void, where memories exist.
The plans and judgments falter and decline,
A new shadow of me it defines to incline
As shadows that blur the borders of time.
With every fading word, the shadow grows,
Anxiety and sadness come and go.
Characters, behaviours and routine miss lines in time
The youth look on, while elders bear the weight
Of changes altering our internal state.
Yet in the quiet spaces left behind,
A person searches for the thread to bind,
To hold the pieces of a fading art,
And keep the steady beating of the heart.
Why are things become protracted and prolonged mix-up?
Why, how did it happen, forced to eat this mixed soup