Moon in the Night

Oh night, how I dread to be wrapped
By your inevitable black blanket, plaiting
Broth feelings of fear in me. & as a tender seed
Oft I ran to get the atupa* on or hang
On my mother’s lap. Mildly sounds of howling
Jeered my skin. Shivering. Dogs growled behind the
Baobab tree. & I thought it is the Abiku* hoarse.
Frolicsome frogs, among the banks of our huts
Who have stolen the meats of progenitors
But stuck in their throats retched, croaking the air.
Amidst these grisly cuddling, I saw the moon
Luminous and plate-head, scanning my timid head.
Claws have scratched the walls, and the night children
Creaked the clays and the trees. My eaves, tinder,
Suffered from harmattan breath. My mother, effigy in knowledge,
Told me tales about the moon. & I clasped my ears
To every new edition. Oh moon! Bright, florescent
Crescent moon with serenity breath. Your tranquil light
Has quenched the burning fear in me. & now, I write in this poem
Some of your eulogy.

The Day I Got Drunk

What is wrong with my head?
         I can see the oval earth
   Swirling, twirling, whirling
Round! Round!! Round!!!
        Even the trees now sprawled
        With their heads on the terrain.

My feet tottered,           staggering
To, front, back, side
What is wrong with my head?
       The sun spinned like a thwarting bird
            Ugly clouds, yes very ugly
         Like the blushing raving rodent
Blossom fog in front of me.
What is wrong with my head?
   My mouth sentient freely, unbaffled
   By whoever figure stood in front of it.

Oh that somebody will grab me
          & my armpit drink

For the shallow mire adorned like the mansion
        Beautiful.        I am wandering near it
           Likely to pass the night, in the cool
           Gabby water—gutter. Not all waters
           That cool the body are cold.

If you see me tomorrow
 Remind me of this poem—a drunkard poem—
       I hope the frailed moon shines
For I am cooling my mind in this swimming pool.

          Good night!

The Beauty of God

Each time I woke up
In the morning to yawn and wash
My mouth and body, the breath of nature
Remind me of the goodness of God.

How magnificent, and wonderfulness
The gift of God to man. The sun from the
Royal bed in heavens, rose behind the mount
And rays. The bird, in joy of the sun
Sings and twitter willfully. Flowers that have close
Their little body for the night, opens up your mind.

Look around and see, the nature teach
The beauty of God. He bestow upon us
What we will never do ourselves. And gave us
A beautiful meaning to live. If the plants can sway
For the growing joy, why can’t I make a joyful note
In this poem?


* atupa: a local lamp, that uses palm oil.

** abiku: a stillborn child.