The poor getting poorer, the rich getting richer,
Justice benched on the sidelines,
The lofty dreams of our youths they have marred,
While they live their lives daily with no dime,
But we’ll not quiver or shake,
We’ll reclaim our land even if our blood is what it’ll take.
Death tolls growing daily,
Youths murdered with cut-short destinies,
Dare we hope for a better society?
Dare we dream of a better tomorrow?
Words and pleas will only make our options narrow,
What it’ll take may be a rain of bow and arrows,
For we must take back our land even if our blood is what it’ll take.
We may sit still and watch them complete our dehumanisation,
We can stand with arms folded watching them destroy our nation,
We can look on and watch them sacrifice our lives to attain high positions,
Or we can be resolved to make them shake,
We must be resolved to get justice or make the land quake,
We must get back our land even if our blood is what it’ll take.
Ogun State, Nigeria
53 Years from Now
Nigerians want change, but they don’t want pain.
Nigerians cry for better lives, but they leave it all for fate.
“E go better, e go better”, is the age old slogan,
53 years from now, we’ll still be singing the same song.
53 years from now, frowns will still crease our brow.
53 years from now, our youths will still get slaughtered like fowl.
53 years from now, our anthem will still be “E go better.”
53 years from now, we’ll still be at the rung of the ladder.
53 years from now, our oil will probably have dried up.
53 years from now, our crops will probably have died off.
53 years from now, our treasury will probably be empty.
53 years from now, we’ll still have to live with impunity.
53 years from now, war may have ravaged our land.
53 years from now, we may have spent ourselves fighting a selfish battle.
53 years from now, we’ll be looking back wishing for what is long gone.
53 years from now, our children may grace our graves with spittle.
We have waited for a messiah for long enough.
We have sat still living life just the way it was.
Nigeria must awake from its slumber,
Or 53 years from now, there’ll be nothing left to remember.
Footnote:-The poem is dedicated to the nation called Nigeria. 53 years and still crawling. 53 years and still strung to Mama’s (the west) apron strings. 53 years and still bedevilled with wrong leaders and cowardly citizens. It is a call to Nigerians to awake and not wait for another 53 years to act.
So comforting these trees around
Their energy poured about
To hug them as the need to ground
Or calm and still my shout
Their presence is a blessing
Amongst the noisy din
Our thoughts always pressing
Absorbed through their darkened skin
I am glad they watch the play
Remaining still and firmly rooted
Though wind may make them sway
Staving off what we’ve polluted
Being part of nature’s beauty
A treasure to protect
They are on the earth’s watch duty
To help us to perfect
By reaching higher and beyond to see
Things from another view
Can we be graceful as a tree
Standing in peace with me and you?
River rushing fast and furious
Emotion from a frightened world
Dark pools swirl the spurious
Corners cut and stones hurled.
Another fall of rain and then
I wonder where life will flow
when the bank can no longer bare
the weight of worries, where to go?
Birds fly south and autumn leaves
wave in the wind of change
about to fall into swelling water
Spinning yellow from the inside out.
Questions twist together undefined
Will the trees see another year?
Will we pass the test of time
And overcome the taste of fear?
River rushing out to sea
To the depths of mysterious blue
Tell me if there is a reason
For feeling fury as I do.
A splash, then a wave rolls by
With power pressing indiscrete
Whirling water, wash the world
Sparkling drops make sour sweet.