Albert Ograka
The Poet
... he watched the smoke
disperse
into threads
and clouds
and whorls
the flapping wings
of an angel,
the silent song
of saints in somber mood
ashes from cigarettes --
pasty look of a tiring poet
quite unusual:
disenchanted,
disillusioned.
sunk in a dismal torpor
watching manioc leaves dance
to the caress of subtle wind
and the clouds gather
birds swirl in the darkening sky
unaware of
misuse of power,
exploitation,
and inflation
the rains, the rains
and the poet stands
like a cigarette in the rain...
Echoes of
Laughter
The formation of the Niger Delta plodded
Into the deep forests and deserts
And crisscrossed the states in Nigeria
In overflowing sea of joy
The heat of the day rises off the desert floor
As the sun make its final gesture
Blinking behind the mountains
to clash with the south eastern night air
The turbulence will awake the deepest sleeper
As fear grips the worshippers’ protest
Where they render prayers in challenge
In the north, east, south and west
Then the great march of warlords, drunk
From ageless wine of greed and avarice
From afar, the drums beat
And church bells chime for change
“These wars are fought for cleansing,
Where youths take over camps, clamping
Down on the gleam of yesterday
As tomorrow begins to fade away gently, gently
The past, if fast forgotten like a rotten fish
In an abandoned aquarium
Today, built yesterday, by our forebears
Would be trampled by gallant giant strides
The wars may soon end
When the echoes of laughter shall overtake
The greed and avarice of the greatest sleeper
While martyrs sleep for the tomorrow of dying
children.
Lamentation
…and lying down
tears flourish
stars stand still
watching comet’s dance
drunk tale bearers chant
to dull drum beat
repeat, repeat
in rare retreat
but your honour
brings succour
to wasting years
and sudden departure
I admire the revolt
to safeguard truth
until your lights go out
dancers faint from exhaustion
dazed drummers dance
like termites and fall
who shall tend the drums?
lamentation…
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