poetry: anthology

IN THE SUNSET

In moonlight
I saw an eyes; a pretty eyes in forgotten field
A lowbirth – loner with milk skin
Confined to that lower-world
In waiting all day long to be attached

And I saw again some eyes
Matching like soldier ant in solid night
No song, nor accompany drum, nor a single lips
To flavour the going like evening sun
Except that some unclean lips coming close
Like unpresage rain to waterdown
Their high spirit, - such drunken spirit on Babel boot
Hurled their sturdy leg away in familiar rough road

I’d wondered why most men
Had not known how bittersweet
Life is when bone meets their bone

And home, silent I kept eyes over home
Stuck at darkcorner – leg tangling – hurling
Fingers fidgeting like woman-awaiting man of the house

Ah, Lord – I cannolonger wait; waiting
Wreck to live and let live
They must have fallen on skein the long gone leg
Walking in albatross, they must have grown sore

So – I plunge over their dream align in ally
With alacrity of dawn .I’d joined the next chariot coming
To fetch that damsel dream awaiting bridegroom

And I‘d dreamt again
Tongue-tie up in limbo
In the continuum ill-blowing wind
That throws dust on their eyes

I am just analogue of you
Walking alone like wandering wind
In life albatross – lightweighted






OYIN – ILORO

Oyin-, I’d long been away from you; from you
Your arms in dignity; your lesser eyes that embraces the sun
Your breast as two footpaths; moon and I once met there
In a sleight of eyes that exchange dreams

I can smell still that rich smell of that bush
While in groping the Babel legs hunt for snail
May earn penny on next market day

Harmattern is a bringer of love
Circling round neighbouring fire
I recall our young toe when dash on stone
Is sure a ill-omen the hunt escape the snare
Legs like toad’s egg usually on snakeroad to Ojusun
I recall the taunt of girls – the young Rachael
Close to side of my stocking dream
Would come for me before the stream

O’ distance is a cancer worm that eat up closeness
But our legs lazing in dream; your dream upon my dream
Born in heart then goes out to seven hill
Where sweet maiden moon- dream all trodden
I am not the first to leave you behind, neither
Would be last…
But I’d gone for the sky;
Your dream upon my dream; two dreams
Under the foot of heaven





















BECOMING A MAN
I
I left boyhood lastnight after the right
The gangan in distance is a dawn
It depthness vested in me a veritable grown leg
That I a son of the soil can take part

I left boyhood when I discovered my boots
How they suit the dance on drum roll
Of life beaten already
For Lion who cut his Jewel
I’d flaunted my bonbon at teen
Now wailing for me under that hue of youth

II
Time comes calling so soon
That I’d to put my foot forward in rectitude
Of a drawline having seen my shoulder broaden

True, all my youth suddenly were nip in the bud
It leaf – zeal greening in sunlight shrunk in setting sun
That put eternal sleep on his lids

And not quite so, do I intend to attain quick
An arm that can bear a bosom
But at the bottomline, time cast dice of manhood
On first fruit that I, playing dust
Is a father and the husband of the mother


TO MOTHER AFRICA
Go, mother go, tell West to wait
We’re coming – black brat who just grow wit are coming
With long antennae of panorama eyes
Across seven hill of excessive nincompoop

Tell her, tell her mama – to wait. We’re
Coming; no longer parasite
Tell her; tell her we’d matured
Can’t you see our broaden arms
With green hands full blossomed
Tell her – mama we’re no longer a panic-stricken crowd
Rumblers that can rubbish her; and so
Shouldn’t try to shoot us aside

Tell her, mama tell her; no borrow brain, we got brain
No longer reneging, we’re just trying
To lit lamp of love that shall preheat our prejudice
And if our coming takes delay
Tell her – going we’ll meet her
LOVE IN THE THORN
Gentle night
Once I see you climbing down heaven staircase
Your leg as heavy as Elephant tread on our land
Depilate their curtain that I saw
Our unpopular dreams dispose to tumour of life
That in that usual dance from unbeaten drum
Dragged her leg amidst hew of dust
Like echoes of Biafra in forest chest
Moon oft extend hand here
But our fellow brother before us
Fell in love with shibboleth; their legs flaunt
At us the unsavoury side of good will

Our lives, only for our lives
Upon this theatre we oft tinkle dream
But our dreams – eaten up like Bar-beach
Were on kneel beckoning for a place…

Ah, all the stars has vanished
At furrow cloud pay our sky visit
The rigour of face of a virtue woman
As harlot dragging reluctant leg
Amidst their soundless drum beaten

O’ when will the bale of burden
On her droop breast be lifted
Here our ship sailing away in deep sleazy, sea
Sallow and saucy, and lean
Into life of nobody
Weary like God’s people in strangeland…

II
The rotten egg spattered on your finest face
Untidy your feminity that boring
That subtle ship bidding for unknown
Could lure you in a nirvana

And I there stood only onlooker
Beside the sickening sea
Your broken heart, you put your broken heart
On heart of that subtle ship
And gave a flake of wave
Eyes close like day here

O’ time, wear your best attire
Bride this drunken lout
Guess whom you’ve conspired with
To put off lamp of dream leaving
My love, - our love on journey of no return

O’ weep not darling weep not
Put not our dream on uncocoon
Where no cancer worm of time could trace
Crawler too that can count their worth conceived
More riches by heart than by ornament

Keep alive our fetching carob and water not
But with milk of heart; night might be too long
But slowly and slowly
We will walk up to the rising sun of tomorrow
With boot in no lacking in might.


ROGUERY

I returned
From battle front of learning life
Head down, and leg steady in revere
The rhapsody of my broaden shoulder
I returned with a fatten smile of devotion
Swoop on floor to mop swollen pain
On head of my lady that looks outside always for hand
Only to behold her, the lout again romancing in my matrimonial home

When I knock, the door opened to a naked woman
Weenie – wheeze continuously
And full of sad story; the incester
As fat as Iroko trunk emerged; barked
Like rabid dog, but move me not
He ordered his sombi to put me
In backyard where I’m only onlooker
Of immorality going on in my Godbless home.

















IN YOUR PRESENCE

In your presence
Darkwoman of Africa
I’d discovered myself, darkchild now seeing you, moonstruck in darkcorner
Lashing in sky eyes, I saw your dream, the dream of Africa
Spattered on wall; the urge cloche me
A son of the soil, playing dust
In your presence
I felt the renascence of proud warrior
Having seen arm suddenly broaden
That I gird my loin, pomp up
To bring back the weaned year, far gone
In your presence
I saw the light that goes out
The ancestral dream put off by marauder
I saw it trigger like lovers who had seen their love
In good omen in each lashing eyes
And I’d put foot on boot
To tread on discovery route ahome


CONTENDER
Full heart – heart in season
Beauty too pompous and conceit old fool like moon
Whose aim is to be as bright as sun?
You drag your woman always for a pick by man prostitute
Who does not know how to love a beautiful woman

Oh, too abash, little leave laugh in breeze
Seeing your punctuating beauty soon shall pined
Black body impudent for instant gain
But your improvidency turned to otherside
Put my leg on road untidy

Well, I am drinkably contented
That since your body is here
Your woman too could come home someday











FOR OLABISI APALOWO
In sleep
You slide here; your leg afresh
Like sea breeze came to renew infancy
Unveiled already in heaviness of leg untie well to your leg
Must you come now when
Infancy unhouse had been put off
In feet of time that called out
From a million leg faraway. Your leg
Unimaginable how they had outgrown infancy

II
Your mellifluous voice as soft as chapel’s
Were rekindling; that smile sculptured always
On your girlish face is a rising sun
Ones it comes up, it brings the culture –
When you are you and I am I, playing dust
But segregate us from the rest

You were the early love though soon pine
Such that silhouette maternal’s is sun
That threw two small shadows on wall for grown ones

I still hear those lips rippled; taunting –
But that time soon prevail over our shyness
That turns intimacy in bedrock of infancy
To one that allures blows of laugh; we’d cried
Run like ostrich and gazelle
How I love to watch you grow – becoming
A woman that outgrowth shyness that throw
That eye matches on my eyes forever.



















ON THE SET OF SUN

Weep not
You foster child, who stay in sun all day
Waiting; will mama come tonight
Eyes distance like forebear clanking in dark
That cleave to pass; the burnt fire of hope
Let me kiss your silken cheek
Where scenes of backwardness – negligence all make love to life
Let me clearway and put your dead leg on life cleavage
Where you shall stumble not; hard time
When it comes in battalion you shall find comfort there

I had learnt those thousands life in clade star
I had learnt the true life groping in their darkness
And the moon, the maiden moon confirmed
I can make a home
So – lets go – I’m fully back; your blood brother is fully back
Mama is waiting, who you’re waiting here in emblem
Land of dormancy; lets be two –
Throw to light the wraith of Oyin – Iloro standing giant in dark
O’ your bloodful brother is calling on you, only you
In full emerald green of life undate among
The breast of earth where you suck one empower by eternity.


A NIGHT IN UPPER SAKPOMBA

Sun stoop to night
And roughness of Africa strew
No NEPA to dissolve her thickness
Except that some neo-eye from four legs devil
That led earth astray in ebullient
As scattered as black body on seven valley
Of dream hue-ing but only blipping
Here – and here we’re jacking leg
On stubborn stone, like our tall dream dwarf
The redlight – potholes …
The many four and two wheels devil as battle of Amazon divulge
Our anti-clock head
Hundreds leg too were not left out









AFRICA, YOU’RE TO ME A NIGHTSONG

Africa, you’re to me a nightsong
Adore, and uncrave for, or do rave about
Time as tumour you couldn’t soothe severe sore
Like tick that clinch on me while in rove
Only the rubicund of your idea face ellipse
At dawn you’d come in a light walk
Put my elegant leg on rudiment of dream
But your dream; the dream of Africa – supplant the wind
I’d walk and walk lost head in non-existence
Woman that you are a pun
Your elephantine black body ethereal place on me embargo
That I should wait till you make out with me.

THE ANCESTOR

They linger, the dead who are knowledge
Of lineament of life pale to the face
The life whose greenness turned yellow
They lingered, the dead amidst green grass
Longing for breath so the feet
On for eyric may complete the journey of death.

And their legs, their legs on that foreign land
Reach for heavengate but heavengate remains fortified
They knock and knock, and knock
Till faithless a lips quiver – turn their look
On pack of idle loafers on corridor of the glasshouse
Throwing stone at man on street whose heart is pounding
Or rather afraid if retort may shatter that mirror
That might ravage his tanned skin

They wail, the dead – wail, and wail in awkward
But their wailing were never heard here
So their leg as life on journey were all screwed-up














TIME OF YOUTH

Now I return as a creeper
Where I’d part not
For man, his trodden led as two cripplers
Keeps one another on the last leg

And I am returning as aged, but youth
Life – criterion of a total conversion
Having seen what they see; voodooed
By tumour of same life; the sore of eyes
And the decomposition of all ventilation of teen
Sucking in that maternal yard the sugarcane of life
I can only see sunrise timelessly
Roving round Oyin-Iloro in a cross section
That I, a small shadow like streak on Ojusun laze one day
Abandoned self on layout of her prettiness
That suddenly I summersault into pool of dream


SEGREGATION
Do you not remember the lamp of life
You told me son it shall never quench
Planting mango that shat bear fruit in all season on frontyard

Time, it whistle soon to the dawn
That rumbles pass our yard where it clothe
In proliferating wind flows back; I cut unknown
Double portion – dream
Turn whimsy in your presence – lackluster
And you nolonger know there could a jackpot of it
Be among your little laddie laden with bend life
For meaned hand unlimited

And if for time, I, on mettle rumble pass
The bridge between black and white
So when I go, I shall go; dress in their avalanche dream
Avail me but exchange not with yours, aweigh
Whenever sunrises in east
It’s the coming of my leg; life must not forget
The primal, and carmine of youth
Whenever you see a shadow underneath
That mango tree, go there, I would be waiting
Provided is leaves is greeny, so when I come
With sun – would have home to land my acquired dream





SUNSET IN AFRICA
To wish is dream, but to dream a wish true
Is a sun dawn of this giant bridge unbroken
Where they pass to acquire our land; our land
Sold to us with stained penny
But because it shall bring us shoulder to shoulder
Our dream – acme when sun first come, we wake
Shuttle between their sibilance’s
But hampered beyond repair
The penury tree implanted amidst us
Grow unbound, the amoral hands
On mantle keeps the watering

And all bend on road reveal panorama –
Of our swirling in dark image, bold
The audible leg of it procure our privacy
There ‘s no more brain who know better
To give light to all that concrete a tall wall
Whose gate barred on us giant as tallest Philistine

Here the little thing shadow
Going always before us
A cross once turn up it toes
But rise again in land of penury.

ON NUDE OF MY FATHER’S PORTRAIT

Father, when your quiverless lips came
To ask if you’d ever walk this path
I saw your tears; your antiquity tears on me
Your requiement tousling on your look-path
Now upon palm; your slight smile dead alive
Ah, that paternal smile like sunrise – unset
Father; I can tell, - truly I can tell I am that live
That once goes out but now find a leg to set















THE CALL

The call came at a scene before dawn
That genial call from meagre complexion of sun
Meandering, the path of affiliating morning
Awaing teen leg to gird loin
And walk down tantamount dream blinking in kindred eyes

And night beckoning sunlight to tarry
But I’d put on boot awaiting like shrunk tree in dried harmattern
For it torrential in womb of cloud

Dawn timbre – tigress dream warbling in yippee
Clanking self, awaiting clanking still – awaiting
It leg jive self in laureate of claque from our ancestor; two ancestral voice
Calling in classic dark two inbred leg
To tap a toe, their two toes drawn from fancy womb of ideal time
But the tarry sunlight submitting to night pleading
Three Graces in love were close apart

IDLE MOON

Out on that street afar, your feet gallant and cute
Gently tread like youngdeer on pothole road
But here stumbling in tarred one
That looks – to you a thorn of yellow coronary
And if for the antic I’d pick my leg worn with wating
Weep no weep – fence no fence of cyanide around me

It cut and dried our incompatible
Infest by dark shadow of unfaithfulness
Though you’re glad I’d played the man for you a woman
Who on kneel trade my love for gain
But your love on contour eyes always turn off love corona
Yet I held out hands that erase incessant humiliation
Brought to us for the fate of our twoness

But if for year sun rises
That I must go
If a hand I could not give again
Weep no weep – fence no fence around the path
I may follow – I unwander lust
Shall nolonger wait and till you make up with me







TO A DARKWOMAN WHO’S CHILD IS LEAVING

He will return he will soon return
She blew the smoking fire of hope
Sitting behind – eyes rheumy – languor
But not queasy, or quell
For child of dust on threadbare of time
Tootling will soon return

And not so long came the hungry mouth
Tootles and stride with impending hope
That no whitelie could strain

But at your fuddy-duddy fudge
And the grimace that silhouette his merriness
You splurge but are demerit in leg
That moves nearer the pot on frenetic fire

Listening to clanking of covered pot of desire
Your grimace
And the knowledge of stone tentatively
That devoured parenthood
And fire of hope goes out.

WE WERE TOO COMMON

We were too common a mankind to God
To have seen lots of his hands like sun
That is reek from his reach
And for a megalomania
We unknowingly removed our hat, bow
And again walk into the dark


















THE CARETAKER

For my sake you went up hill
My broken dream, to mend my broken dream
Whose eyes sore like dog in morning
My dream scattered like Africa roaming about
In land of man of man

For my sake upon make
I place hope in you; the hope of Africa
Leg feckless in preen laps of West
But for your sake; only your sake
My dream so unpopular, you placed in righthand

And for my sake, but for for my sake
You drank delight wine with milk
Fallen head over hill – hand too now broaden
Gathers all manners meant for you and me
No leftover to quench this hunger
Your skinboot too in sunlight dazzled me

Well, I’m bellyful, just bellyful
Once you’re not constipated I too I’m not ulcer
Under this wanton beam-end

EUROPE

When Europe came, Europe came
Just as a dawn, her delicate eyes lashing of multitude of love
Is a moon that our land prickles were allotted her to cultivate
But while she came, she came
Chalk on right hand – cudgel on dark left hand
Knowing darkchildren running in splash bush could be too
Death to live - to learning the funfair of full-grown moon
Tolling from infancy
And when she left, she left
Turn sunlight here, but our hedonist
Even in her foible left footprint
Turn the fundamental light aside that gave night
A pace amidst our land swamp of penury
Then Europe return not to aid but raid
Having seen our fortune unseen…







IN A BALCONY…In memory – Ikeja Bomb blast

Supposing I kept my impregnated rabid dog
At peace from age to age, and till age
Lie unrattle under that unmuttering sky
If I donot hurt her
Would she hurt me?

II

If for our lives we chose to take one
That’s not ours that we may
As life enchantment, and for demi-god
But becomes man dead to human
So is it, - man is a measure of all things
That even in kilowatt of prejudice
Does clank down the wheel of life.


THE GIANT OF AFRICA

When she was born, the little lass
Not as a free born, but as a free born as other
Except for necklace around her neck
Lade on eyebrow that calls her to the fore
To lift the flag of life

Though she too has scars
Incurred in course of birth
But on night of birth, light were traversing
Amidst her kin – too kinky
So she died soon and was buried without grave
Only a coffin on air
All that looks too sees
Her, the black hope – svelte
A well-to-do howling gale
That would have shouldered with other broaden shoulder
But never chose to live












SONG OF SORROW

Today
I’m the oddest walking in dark corner
Amidst the hue of man - deflower; servitude
Under a roof whose frontview caved ancestral name

I had lived life I ought to live
Dispatch dream under the sky
But my dream, all my dream were falling underneath
The awry and mute – puce promise
And no more gun to shut again
For ages passed – time as youth
Climbed rapidly like smoke, the threadbare of time
That had fallen prey

I had since become an enigma and no single emerald
To see through tall leafy tree standing between
To cut across, I lurched but was push aside

But for all that passed, all that shall pass
He’ s a epitome of a dream! An epitaph
That shall only come up on forehead of time
After the night…


COUNTRY MAIDEN

Abuja
You’re maiden
The country rubicund, and I am delighted
To see you too are delighted
Competing with world pageant

But does it mean because
You’re in public eyes you couldn’t
See to sorrow like tick your kin’s skin
Why were you full of forgetfulness?
That you’re biting the finger that fed you
Don’t you think maid too that cook meal
For madam deserves to dine on diny









TO A NEW NIGERIA

Today I saw you – you for the first time
Mother drew you close; you fill that window way in amazing
Your look – infant in that jaunty hat like loupe
Marvel in greeting sunlight
That I wanderer lust saw in a blip your gem
Ina pink cheers on that small world
Your small smile is sunshine
That kicks off the day from blues
But not all of you I could see; but scent of your youth
Come close, - and I’m proud and thankful
Your intimate eyes with mothers intertwine with mine
Would I have ladder, would reach
And grab your maternal hand …


COLUMBINE

As if her life is merely a totem tabooed to touch
This convoy of beauty like wave
Running in flash delight amidst Lokoja
In a wavy silver band and delight creek
Through Delta and across
This snowy nightdress of a darkwoman
Reek with crystalline of decency
Around her etherealness only for love arousal
But opt in our dark eyes that look aside affectionately
To woman we could not tell how she passes her day
Leave two genuine breath that beget a beloved child,
A reminiscence of one love
Perch on each shield of each shoulder
But were left only for coltish out of wedlock
And if we could in trace discard our twoness
Amidst the fertile flower of eyes on array
If we could look for a blip the genuineness heralded
With beginning of home – made love
And camaraderie of a new beat that will
Forever hoist the heart of flora and fauna
And this incompatible were push aside
To make love genuinely to deflower Delta
Every land will become a bed of rose.








A WATCH OF THE NIGHT

We’re not born in to dark exposure that in light
Should play plaintiveness
We big children of no lesser dream
Dashing in lashing colour dark – eyes sore and broken head
Burn camp fire a night ago in no lesser harmony
That now turn to go again

We who are not ashamed to face the world
Pacify shameless hands mud with mud of our own life
We who littered the earth present
With stronger muscle – broader shoulder; eyes on sky
Do diminish to face the sun of our own hunting wraith

And the night; the haunting night
Sorting out-self during our day laze about
To clank down the dawn
When in insensitiveness, the termite liger underneath
In bulk of bauble dream to inseminate our dream
Found by chance at doorstep longing to be wooed.


THE GALE

And when sand are lamenting
Stiff-earth are traveling
Alone! Alone, in a lone pain so penurying
The gale is passing
And when eyes of earth
Are sore and sallow underneath
Like room full of dog-breakfast
The gale is walking across the earth
And when young earth were shown the way home
In disarray, leg groping for lady of home
Tree bowing – twisting, bowing – twisting – come
The familiar spook; her genius apparel rove round our home


THE MOON IN THE BUCKET
Merriness and munching menu might have led them astray
But they did what they did within the brow
To gather each wit in one basket
And throw it necessity in lubricious bowel
Of whose finger is enticing them in his lucifering eyes

In ale inn thatch and richly thatch
They sat that sat for our mind; but for palmy
Each talk went with liquor - hat down,
Pauper lips quivering like lunatic
The palmy sharing is a small laugh
That do mellow their shoulder when puffing

And little by little, palmy drank dried
They puff up, ‘we no go gree’, then another pass
But night comes – one after one, pauper hat
Went it place; they yawn, and yawn uncontrollably dust their shame

‘Look the moon in bucket’, the eldest
‘Moon! - Moon in bucket, o’ moon in bucket; guff. He saw the moon
I saw the moon too’ – they laugh amicably
Went with a wit-full mind to meet again


A SONG FOR ART
Art is long! Art is long!
And time is not it goal
This still long old bold mahogany
That threw it body against rising sun
The gale while on tod to embrace threw
Dust on each eyes; north and south molested
Art is long! Art is long!
And time is not it goal
I dream a simple dream of camaraderie
Abuja suddenly turn eyes on us
And their shoulder high sheathed to beat the long barrier
I dream I saw in that luminous dream
The cleans of pellagra, we blew panpipes
Some sway still like obese
To turn down the light, our new acquired life shining
Art is long! Art is long!
And time is not it goal
Prance years splash in brief, and camera the year
That awake the sleeping eyes; the feet
Like speaking silence Obelisk famed the neon- year
Jive in drunken delight of it meandering
Children scattered as in chased locust but titrating
In new found life cladding in aged eyes
Art is long! Art is long!
And time is not it goal
The obdurate hand holding his sword
His prejudice eyes eyeing the onlooker, but the throng
Holding candle coming in picturesque-ness
When they came, erosioned him
Mix him with them and the dream is done





ELABORATE SIGININGS

POEM, IN MEMORY – CONTINUED
I

Make out with me, old time
This uninspiring journey of man
Circumvent, - set the eyes on core sun
Whose hand in citation
Unleashed on flower of heart; shrink and drop off

II
To time, our legs plying the road unknown
Is a creek amidst the reeds; and weeds
That dampens it make helm of a conqueror will
That in all, our dreams moving onward and backward as episode
And our little life, an enviable epitaph
On forehead of time shall come up, alone
When in sleep-awake, our dreams surrounded with sleep
Shall shriek of eloquent ardournment
And will bubbly across universe

III

Go not to the rarest, perfect love, o’ my perfect love –
On chariot; for idle time wheeling away
Like night when light first come up in steadfast
Your beauty, such beauty as ros-marinus
On toe performing the last respect
Tattoo this toddler leg on road
And in love of home; but for love of home
Despised outward to follow on your homeland

IV

Mush as we had never lived; live
To watch from near – sight the incoming one incomparably
Look them hauling to one dark corner of dark side
Life as cork that crow when is not yet dawn
For two seafarer to sail on dream sea

But seasick I am, aloner on sea becalmed, screwed up
For the punt when I gird on getting down is not easy
To see the sea level like our dreams aboard
I scared once in swallowtail
To face this full-face so rare; reared
By time and legful eyes
Or so brave to unpave for the tave sea
To take it course since in postmortem of long gone leg
I only see in that absence your excessive presence
V

Much as we could live, but living
In post-natal endemic of breathe post dated –
Unseat the two compatible seaters, - on love seat
But he waits to fight other day that put to flight –
In a renew same old conquest

The true-blue tree for time being
Grow unbound amidst ornament of this society
But in true ornament of their society
The great treasure trove buried unknown
Growing on river bank of time, and in an unknown


VI

To watching our legs, how they rove uncommonly
Is not so weird, or do they were
Only an image born out from sighing of the wind

Look the year leap amidst in the colour rainbow
That culture of permanency like sculpture
When they sigh – the star, the tale is understood
Look the lamp how it balance our two dark image on wall
Only barricaded against external eyes

VII
New land have I not found
That from convent of your unadulterated woman
It numerous vase invariable for me
Should requite from chase; but chastity is I
Chortle still amidst deserted desert in tipsy
To requiem the corotura of dream now on tumour of time

And where you seem run; if for nun
But your chaste breast ripening, and the contingency
Like bud at dawn shall long for fondling
It shall be lass again in traipsing
Or rather a prodigal down at heel under a cypress
Queasy that I shall be quelled and stumbled unknown
Could then that all my lost man be requiem
Hence my leg will be on your trail.







VIII

Not for the bias you left this peach, greeny
Nor the profusely breath un-impend
For body and soul, as twin turret
Embrace that pattern when it callout

The peach greening as it is
I came just at a moment of dawn
Hoping my worn leg may seek death knell
And no eyes, nor audible leg; only a dawn chorus
But at rare, nearer ends of popular-side
An eye, queer only onlooker of prominent peach
And when I come, you gird with me
Two team toasting eyes before the whistle
But left untold…


IX

Light; and the cinema began
Before the time
While in assemblage audience troupe in and troupe out
The stager at nearer ends ordered well
As seen on similar cast on tip-top
Of attainment to count their chickens after hatch

But for incongruity audience
Our legs teen and puerile on this stage
Fell on limit of time
Our dream in lime green
Were dragged into their pandemonium
That thrown out the light

Luckily, none was hurt
But we were gone only to meet in curtain


X

It comes to you as it comes to me in steadfastness
This reverie by clink of a clock-clime
Climbing dawn the tree of friendliness
To gird on giant one
Having seen our two legs as one match like twin breast

The foetus dream implanted unaware
Suddenly reach for birth
When all our incompetence; all our human incompatible
Suddenly melt in it warmth sunshine
But on this climactic walkway, our conversion
Fell imperatively on wary watchful eyes
That later shook the giant tree, leafy
And on floor of life, our innate leg together
Were closed apart…


XI

Consider the swallowtail how it still glow
In varieties even in that abject love; the wind
Rendering dust of laughless world of no tree

The plaintive grass in dried hamattern
Stretching hand in abject drop, but dew gave one

And I have seen been that swallowtail
Taint with stain of youth
When in drop my tall grass as shelter were denied of drop

Yes as a pet canary whose lover
Is ten thousands leg away –
Will tootles and tootles in a wheel of hope
While you will go – but return…


XII

Once in my youth day
The dawn like one awaiting bus
Took me in galaxy of life. The bubbly breeze
Across render in brief the similitude of that trip

The signpost as a waiter points the route
That in inhibited location move on unhindered
But on your residence stood one giant gate
That unbar unask. I stroll in looking timid in footstep
And like bride, you come in light walk in that ornament of youth
As a landlord to take in your unusual guess

The room garnished with immutable plant, greening
That even in mutable season of life will remain green
The dining room where we dine has a column of light unquenchable
But there in that room a caretaker whose look you took
Her first smile is sunlight, but turn cloudy
When she saw, particularly the sore table; the floor
Tainted with powerful leave of love above us.
Her second eyes recall we’re teen that I took a leave
Only to wait at back door for you…

XIII

Such bouquet of life I have never asked;
That was on walkway presented to me
So the eyes like inferno set high may return mutual one
To mammoth men awaiting love
But such the world gives - do retrieve
Not care how it mars their match
Or do they as one eyesore score a mark
On dream that wheel unbound.
And whereupon the remaining of that gift live
But in eye – mind would wheedle the feet


XIV

To see one chariot of life wheeling in unbound glory
The world would want to see, or to school, or to emulate
The rendering of it gear
But on eagerness stumble on them unknown

So as most dream that may excel
But time and death as one community
Puff up in archery to the less Armour one
Whose only Armour is a perfect harmony –?
May in thunderstorms of such fly spear take to heel?

And as we, most dream most men
Do not give life to while in light disarray
May exchange self in that dark balcony
But shall turn baluster in vale of life
So the leg turned each way may return unlost


XV

At dawn
I dream a simple dream
But as bamboo shoot, such stuff dream were made of
The human pest awaiting like bail
And my dream as one caravan in center garden
The rare gate joins two-barricaded wall against outwardness

At inside she seems to move everywhere
Watching her, the ornaments of youth spur
Like sunset beach, her eyes awesome
Is a tabernacle; I worship there always
Even at belly-less; for to see her, my lady
In uncommon contourment of configuring it sweeting me

But in lap of time my uncommon dream dashing amidst common man
Were thrown out of light
The couch where I sleep to dream were scattered

Trying to rearrange the vacuum room
I push across the rogue piece of cloth that tainted it
Like dried leave drop in dried hamattern
Set the bed that I may sleep, and dream another dream
But pebbles of dropped sand from far off
Leg clinches on my leg that I could never
Go back to bed now lapsed


XVI

Bridal dream of sovereign light galaxy
Live amidst the roofless, or in dark balcony
Playing ancestral, or only progenitor monument
To them that shall sleep and dream uncommon dream

And in eyeing of you head grope like boozer
Since in nest of time I’ve seen
The renascent of my first sleep in full bloom
Particularly, half our lives lived in death – live
So our leg, lend out might all return

Your same audible leg live in dark
Keep up appearance, but in Diaspora live
Turn the myriad footprint and nominal value
To them that place it on right palm
Beauty pompon and immutable here
That I duff my head to deify and pass all night
Under it blanket that alternate sleepless one

XVII

To live and to die, but die to live
Are one furlough of life nominee to infuse all inhibit ingress
One life defeated at one battle unprepared
Or, perhaps that takes to heel but on few feet away wait
Like hunting when hunter first boomed

The dead, when going make no noise, or fret
But prance with leg heavy
That does not go far – and behind the wall
Or by same gate wait in non-existence
That the inmost leg would walk up like fly into gossamer

And time when menace of eater worm were put out
They jive, the dead amidst the life unlived
Now amidst the host of Gabriel – fresh-face
Renascence from scene of absence; and presence
New as a day the jocund leg would wake up to it gate
Then enter his eternal sunshine


XVIII

I wish but as world it were not so large
Or so – small as caravan, and contain us not
But as large, we were too farther
Two cold hearts shivering in sunless
I would it were a leafy tree greening
So two legs may stay to play each way
To life gallery hue of galaxy –
Love you fifty years behind the loveline
Of our gazed balcony whose
Inward long preserved as Mary might
Beget unusual one
So two infertile breast awainting ripening
Might walk up to it cuddling
Then I will love you hundred more years
After – make the rest love between constant as northern star


XIX

To see you look so – like one rare Nature
My eyes lour as so I’d drunk
But only with your eyes that change not for palmy
For to see you look so – outstanding
I duff my hat, bow to him
Whose sculpture hand complete in that clay league of beauty
Your look like a fairytale; eyes, lips – ah your breast undrop
How would I say? – They look so
In tale of one amazing tale of perfect creature;
A gift package over two thousand years back
To he who shall make more woman of you


XX

Chidinma, young and ardourn
Sigh not when night comes, or when in peak
While you sigh, your sighing is integral breeze
It shall smack my man
My soul like eagle shall soar and may
Not find you amidst night like barricaded wall

Nor should you ever quail while walking the garden
To see you tearing, they shall flinch
The joyous garden; and what profit then
Happiness when Flowers of life shrink and toss off
And while you shall, my soul as a bee
May die of hunger.

Donot as when dawn comes
Lay as hen of running stomach
To see you in cold flinch
My soul as cock crowing may dance and dance
In vain round that ornery that unveil yieldness

Or so should ever shut at bird
You might not know which my soul
As songbird present; to see bird on each
Way is a rareness
That as constant as northern star
I shall in absence be in your presence


XXI

To see my bloom camomile turn pale
I fear once if I so would ever crave for another
Or so dashing in sunrise eyes that would shift gear
Turn my eyes on core sun while the wheel
Of life is shifting to higher gear
The head grope – but my life is total fault
I have rave too mush of such outstanding myriad leg
A shadow like walking stick but mixed with night
I thought so – chasing breast is good as chasing
Dream butterfly ardourn in fertile eyes
So I’d in wanderlust gird my loin in pursue
Of two great Nature twin – seems turn wind.
What fate await now as one purpose – running
Life in flash delight is toppled?
Or should I so - intrepid to affirm battle’s life
As when one is lost you gird the loin with second hand
To overrun the other
I fear – so; head turnaround in loggerhead –
To think life goes on while it purpose renege
Is having some small smile turning it chariot to wheel in high intense
But I, as myth tootling round this circle
May fail, or so shall succeed-
And to think well of it – my life is only a rolling coin
Once fall on wrong side, but shall turn other side.




WAITING

IRONY; - OF LIFE


Who - is that
Other eyes beside you
Walking on our walkway
Enticing you. Leg whirling in rendition
That in sunlight set the scene
That wheel unbound
But our infant dream in dark
I had no doubt - the luminary scene
Is toking of our two matched leg.
While I stared sidelong the life boulevard
When I count the leg
It was you and I
Weird leg solemnizing
Our sectional dream second to none
But while I look again
Into that nimbus of life, liased
An eyes, I saw such eyes giant
In your otherside
Stocking with laugh - lips that rips
Our infant dream
Like bud awaiting the sun’s fingers

I donot wish to know
Whether man or woman
Who - is that
Other eyes
Always on your side



TO MY HEART

When I saw you requiting last night
Eye sore – attire tore, and pervading
Smell of love left to loose
From battle
Fought and lost
I could not hug you
To lift fallen year
Nor dry contour tear - convoy
Of beauty eaten up by love termite
I could not ask-
Why such sudden returning
When sun like our prominent dream
Shine still in mirror dark
And while I look again sun goes dawn
Sleet in your eyes, hamattern on your lips
The meandering wave of requiem passion that weave
Hand upon your pale face
Knowing well you’re back whose dream is dead

II

I loathe you, my heart
This several season
Of going and coming
Aren’t your leg worn walking that pothole
Now little love
Playing around
Had left
Well
Lets sit now to talk in brothernes
You and I
How to make out
The oiling of that lantern
Woman’s love upon that stand
Blowing in gale
Lets talk now – lets talk our intense life
Lean unlegato
Mirror eyes turning sombre
And if you so
Turn deaf and dump
I so roving in love-lorn
Shall shift gear, and turn my way






WAITING

Life;
Soothe me not to wait till sun return
Let me rise – so I’ll be rise. Set leg on real road
The day is dawn – let me troop the colour
Of dream contourment – hefty with impedimenta
I’m typsied, do not say I should wait a day
See my broaden shoulder how redness it hand
Tossily to take hold of calabash and join kindred hand
To water that tree – soul of black
In dry hamattern
So at any fierce eyes of sun
We may find endless shelter in her abode


BARBEACH
When first we met
Your eyes
Glittering and shimmering in sunlight
Pleases my soul
That I spanned girlishly, giggling
On desire that swirl across
To see you look so your finery face
One Nature in love - awaiting her lover
I walk up close intrigued by your urging smile
I felt your youth lips moist – cling on my dried lips
Slides rigorously that leaving assumes
Eating a forbidden fruit
But it weren’t so - ringing bell of heart at first meeting
So weird - it’s too weird
I could not know if I love you so
But your heart keen, and my heart spilling touch each youth
While I went away but return
To ask yours genuinely, but yours
Slain – the inferno of eyes
The puffing of breast
What could that hatchet mean?
Or are you going to war?
What happens to my love? Tell me! Tell me!

























MY ONLY DREAM

Chidinma distance –
Chidinma nearer –
Chidinma Leap to the eyes
The meandering maxim of dream league
Of legato
Of a flowing blood
In life stream
No wonder mother-in-law -
Dawn
Wag in tale her buttocks seen that
In that brief eclipse
Sun would transcend night
Make their terrain amidst their kindred leg

The skylark you’re; a soft song
Huffily inside that cathedral
That Babel leg – hands brawling but
I recognized still the entail resonating lips of my belle
Disgorging
In ecliptic the eloquent
Of dawn embodiment
That I crawling
Suddenly disperse leg amidst the starry

Emanating sea breeze
You’re - walking
In gorgeous
Amidst the full-grown garden
Frumpy leave
Ticklish reach for nirvana
The groping leg
I am
That full-grown garden
Once deflower
In dried hamattern

You’re
The scent of my scentless hibiscus
I am
The pale red
Taking refuge on fugue
Of your
Image
Fulfilling the inbred dream
Where I
Walk and walk
And never had been
Weary
THE FULLMOON
So ladylike, the fullmoon when put on boot for a walk
The lady in waiting to draw the curtain
That in that colourful festivity winsomely in dark
Dawn princess would make out with night lucifering matrimony
That thrown down league of beauty accrue two
Cold heart shivering in sundown

When she talks, no leakage in her lips
Neither too lofty, her maturity shows
Her life within a true life
That sister stars could emulate

While she looks or so smile
She is a gem amidst the aurora
The myriad footprint of radiant light
That turns night apart

But while she comes like dawn winnower
Blowing chaff off our drunken existence in dust wistful wind
No noticing, so she’d gone hide underneath
Pregnant cloud so the touts
Who had lost head on path of incest
Might be not inclined to their mesmerizing



ROSE

By the roadside
A shadow gleam
In incognito
In warmness of incumbent sun
I lay – by
Look astray
The lea latent launching in dark
Rose, -
I knew
None could
Marvel so in warm latitude
But
I admire
Ask her hand
Home
Where upon
Window way
Of my sun lounge
Took refuge
Spread part of hands towards heaven and rest towards
The
Strange
Room;
her
strangerness spur
but Rose –
we chat
day and night – night and day
sleep and wake
into each dream till each dream
install the insulated hope

then
she
glide
down
the window way
and
find
a
foot beside my foot



LOVE SONG

Do not love me, o’ love
Like moon, for the moon
Jiving the sky
In glorious ornament
Grows from grace to grass
Nor like sun that drag night to feet
Yet bow to same night at night
Nor like mirror you look always; insensate mirror
Incline as yonder dream – famous
Love shall kiss air alone
Nor like seed allured
Yet fall on wayside
Love me like your blanket –
As in dream you dream, two inclement dream
Shall be warmth up
Like a tree at seaside, greening
That drank the sea, and sea knows not it drank the sea
Like little rill that clad over mother
Mixed with her ad infinitum
Two legs jiving shall stand by
Under the unchallenged melody
That singout rhythm of tomorrow



IN YOUR EYES

In your eyes
A river flows
Lapping
Lour eyes drained
Languor in it landslide
In your palm
A lilac sprouts
Swallowtail leaps
Halfway in hallmark, it hallowed lips
Canoodling in air
In your shadow sprightly
Sun in canoodling
Lashes in antics a eyes
That alternates two images
And in your eyes
A fine ferry punt
Sail –by
Two hands – passenger waving
Whose look is you and with me.





























COLOUR OF YOUR LOVE

Warbling – the sway totem
Your stylish colonnade
Communioned in immutable ornament of youth
How fragrant
Your cologne
Cohere in inundate meandering
And contouring before
Only one amidst the lettuce of men

Your eyes meek and moral
Soft as a sigh
Your swathed red lips like bud
Awaiting sunkiss
Your svelte supple body
Sunscreen
Breast
Like apple
In a singlebite
I felt love colostrums
Teen
Suddenly
Bubbling into adult

When you put out a leg
Your leg
Is a rising spring –
Dawn
Of life aperture
That delights mother earth
And in
Me
Tend whale of appetite


OUT GOING MOON

Will you return tonight
Now that you’re going again
But if sun turns it back
I know you wouldn’t like night
Nor does like walking it
But duty, duty hurls your tireless leg
Always on this inherited path that wince our dream

You couldn’t care either
The eyes left to feel life sore
That halt hallmark of hallowed one
And for all I care
Though we’re becoming hardened underfoot
That third mouth tread freely, but I will wait
To drink in falling that might cripple your leg
But if in rain – and to undrain
You outstay welcome there
My heart shall bleed in front of night


UNAPT for Sylvia

You sang of dawn
Spring sunshine
Deflower flower chortle a dance
You sang of wood
Uplifted
Glum bird wags tail
You sang of brotherness
Gliding
down to dawn of life
I
A swain
Gird the loin
That in that sunlight may tap toe
But you swallowed all
The insurmountable melody
Before my very eyes
























MEDLEY
I
For you
Chidinma
The undying spring of youth
I will wait not as a gypsy – on caravan of time
And till the cloud rolls by

II
In first season of life when we met
As in dream seems to have seen
In that louvre, a dove – emblem
Our time of life at lowtide but fled
But in upcoming season, it greenlight
Turned red shall return green

III
Put on your boot, my troubadour
And tap with me a toe among greenside of life
For as in love, as dew of the sea
Our two legs set on safest tour
Shall in dream and hope dance into eternal sunshine


IV
Place me not beneath your eyes
Running river of time amidst this piece of work
Eleven-fold epitome of paradise
So while it noble hand shall come up
To tame or tickle old time I may
Be in line with your woman eyes

V

Under evening sky of Africa
The moon
You could hear us singing
Two blinking eyes in night
Catching by
The bliss – sermonizing self
You could hear us in ticklish delight
Two images mixed with the night
When plying cloud took off

VI

We ‘re the one they are singing
The brood on brook bank
Home – home, come again o’ to home
The visiting torrential is over sun had rising
Gardens are greening
Come home, o’ come home
To make your erde head live again
VII
Come home, o’ come home
Lady, my dear lady, come home
The clock just strike right
You said you ‘re coming before the night
Once you are done there
Come then to daring for here

VIII

Seating on Idanre-top one day
A nature like aircraft rove by in brief
Eyes young and alive
And Idanre, seems to reach everywhere
Has been to me window, and life
A drawn blind that I’d
In you a view of unadulterated world

IX
Go not from me, Chidinma, o’ Chidinma
Not that while you go I could go from you
Nor while you go I cannot follow
But that while you go, you may go for me
Make your journey the journey
That while I go for you shall meet you

X

Distance, o’ distance
I sing of you
Who ‘s nearer when we’re in love
Clime clock cline on two summer eyes
I sing of you
Clinger distance
Your connive leg; there you go
Like little rill
When out of love, and never return

XI

Song that ornaments soul
Infest but a step aside mankind
Turn their gear wisely even in Sahara
Once in there fancy leg that can jive along lives



JULIANAH, MY MOTHER

Dark woman
My mother woman of Africa
You whose back bend
Tilling the earth
Growing grain
for harvest ah, that harvest
eaten up
by hungry belly brimming your eatless belly
o’ my mother
You whose dream
under blanket heaven wend
amidst there whiff - life puff
and dwell
in a whisker-
yet took the bull by horn
that we
bush children
accustom snake road
ah, lazing on Ojusun
we have seen nothing of that moon
you told us roving there
Julianah, my mother woman of Africa
O my mother, Julianah!
Dark as ebony
That heavy sun
Like evil cosmetic
were blindfolded lazing on your black body
I ardour you
O Julianah, my mother, o’ my mother
Whose breast is sun
I
Often
Dry
tear
of
youth

Dark woman whose man
Suddenly
left on field
And none heard of him -
of him
again
Julianah, o my mother
You’re a moon
Unto my path
City wiry
Where I come from
Going by the way
Of our life
Tumble down it lashing dust
That sores your beauty
Black beauty interfaith
But I
Your son who saw a small moon
Blinking in night
had gone for the night
To pluck that light, - that light
Far
Far
Plant it here
Here
Here
That you too
My mother,
Who
Could not write
your name
ah, your name,
Julianah, o’ Julianah
But Onye---
Ah, Onye-----,
My mother I could not remember
Your name
You name ah, your name
Constance to my birth
But Julianah
Julianah
Ah, Julianah, we’re too common
Here
Here
To one another
Since I’d been
Far
Far
From your heritage



TODAY, I SAW DAINA RETTURNING
Today, I saw Daina returning to heaven
Kneel on earth the oldest book on bosom patched
She pray – daina pray to pass true heaven
To put out serpent egg hatched
Already – and so be tweak under hand of deepsky
She stoop, daina stoop beneath the blood- eyes languor under the cross
And I saw home wheel shifting gear and wheel by
A wayside of haven when she fall at last on feet of most sufferers cross

LIMERICKS

Mans call me woman, I donot bubble
Nor mind being too humble
Their tree of meekness, tree of handsomeness, and tree of smileness
I had climbed. Now they say that’s me – less
But I could not climbdown to climb their me

II
A wanderer wanders along mammoth man
They say who is he, that going man
But in other road found him with two look
One was his handwork one was his look
They say he’s beautiful man he got a dream

III
An aged singing, take out black man’s burden
Seating underneath leafy tree by roadside underneath sky leaden
Another by same form singing we want to go home
The nearer an eyes who is on his way home
You are you the burden; take up your walking stick…

IV
I do not want to be nearer to you
No not now to meet you
Your sweet lineament
While you leave lips in my lips in a moment
I’d drowned; says the teen lover






















BECOMING A MAN













FELIX ORISEWIKE SYLVANUS





























DEDICATION



TO YOU

MY MOTHER, JULIANAH
WHERE
I’D SUCKED EXCITEMENT OF YOUTH
YOU ‘RE TO ME,
EVERY MOTHER IN THE WORLD































CONTENTS

BECOMING A MAN
IN THE SUNSET
OYIN – ILORO
BECOMING A MAN I-II
TO MOTHER AFRICA
LOVE IN THE THORN I-II
ROGUERY
IN YOUR PRESENCE
CONTENDER
FOR OLABISI APALOWO I-II
ON THE SET OF SUN
A NIGHT IN UPPER SAKPOMBA
AFRICA, YOU’RE TO ME A NIGHTSONG
THE ANCESTOR
TIME OF YOUTH
SEGREGATION
SUNSET IN AFRICA
ON NUDE OF MY FATHER’S PORTRAIT THE CALL
IDLE MOON
IN A BALCONY
TO A DARKWOMAN WHOSE CHILD IS LEAVING
WE WERE TOO COMMON
THE CARETAKER
EUROPE
IN A BALCONY I-II
THE GIANT OF AFRICA
SONG OF SORROW
COUNTRY MAIDEN
TO A NEW NIGERIA
COLUMBINE
A WATCH OF THE NIGHT THE GALE
A SONG FOR ART THE MOON IN THE BUCKET
ELABORATE SIGNING

POEM, IN MEMORY – CONTINUED I-XXI
WAITING

IRONY; OF LIFE LOVE SONG UNAPT
TO MY HEART IN YOUR EYES THE OUTGOINGMOON
WAITING COLOUR OF YOUR LOVE
BARBEACH MEDLEY I-XI
MY ONLY DREAM JULIANAH, MY MOTHER
THE FULLMOON TODAY, I SAW DAINA RETURNING
ROSE LIMERICKS

elaborate sighining

ELABORATE SIGHINING POEM; in Memory - Continued Once in my youth dayThe dawn like one awaiting busTook me in galaxy of life; the bubbly breezeAcross render in brief the similitude of that trip The signpost as a waiter points the routeThat in inhibited location moves on unhinderedBut on your residence stood one giant gateThat unbar unasked. I stroll in looking timid in footstepAnd like bride, you come in light walk in that ornament of youthAs a landlord to take in your unusual guess The room garnished with immutable plant, greeningThat even in mutable season of life will remain greenThe dining room where we dine has a column of light unquenchableBut there in that room a caretaker whose look you tookHer first smile is sunlight, but turns cloudy When she saw, particularly the sore table; the floorTainted with powerful leave of love above us..Her second eyes recall we’re teen that I took a leaveOnly to wait at back door for you…

song

SONG: I love you, as I love the brightness Of each street; of the hour of light-pollution From which all there delightness Were shed in light on each lovers heart I love you, as I love the rounded moon Famed with grace, rich smile, culture Which lingered like look we cast On each self, in love of a same world I love you as I love the tone Of some incomparable melody Play each day from tune I had chosen from unchained melody I love you as I love the first Young flower rising in morning sunlight It looks bright and beautiful And it timeless scent I love you as I love the scene of dawn That escape me from scene of the night Which with you I long to be closed Make much the saint of youth Such that with you Will embrace a loveliness You will chose with me To the unchangeable of days? FELIX blizzfelxcoo@yahoo.com 08025907416

Motion Picture and the Nigerian Image

Motion Picture and the Nigerian Image

It must be so, I am a movie freak, but that cannot be a reason for deciding to contribute to this debate. It couldn’t be because I love to write about things, or so sure I could make more meaning about things than any other ordinary contemporary writers. Certainly, it couldn’t be because I cherish being amidst of discuss. Or, possibly, because I want to be heard; make fame from piercing eye into the dark-side, or the good that Nollywood has impacted to the image of the most populous black nation in the would. Or rather it impacts! However, I think, I decided on this in order to tease some of my countrymen. The stance I take may be considered a joke, but are practically true. Do not for this, bang down your interest. It would make no meaning if one thinks nothing good will ever comes out of an untested will such as this elaboration, considering all that could relate to it.
In all of this, my interest were induced from a definite acknowledgement of which in no second thought does, in real sense, covers a lot of things that can give our collective image a face lift. Of course, we know it! We are in a new age! The age not outside the mind, but of which is often being referred to as “Civilization”. Well, before I go further, I know I should be made to understand what is meant to be civilized. But then, my understanding could hardly be separated from a distinct knowledge that civilization only implies “maturity”. The culture which is of the mind; our mind-set about things related to the exigency of our existence.
What is our state of mind? What do we communicate of our self in present of others? In this part of the world, I discovered we are freak about things- new things that spark up a sense within us which often imitate other. There is no such incident that certain expressions of our self, coming from the within will not outlive our presence, or make more betterment of our self if only we could see within. Well, I do not hate the power house of parody but I dislike being held hostage to believe that I cannot do without them. Everything about this life is practically about us. Our self, in the absence of none! Though, we need others to improve ourselves in modality that can enhance our efficiency we need not, for this, turn a prisoner to our own imagination. Let alone sideline our practice. All we need is to work on our self to reverse to the trend of rediscovery master piece of which we were.

Particularly, I belong to this class of new age. And like every others, I had my preschool in the western education where I learned the moon and the sun of this world of which is related to my immediate life. And bragging along her way, I had the good fortune to be told that becoming myself, is the best I could give myself and the rest of the world not loose head over the pack of thing that in the inner world would betray my conscience. I have however, to this knowledge live in an age of conscience – would not find myself derail. Or perhaps brag along the way of life with un-classic conscience of the newness of the world.

Contemporary life annoys me a lot. Deep in the mind of this age, however, it solidities it teaches of which if looked so deep upon would find nothing but the illusioning of it promising. The ideas that we could make more beauty, either our individual personalty, or the corporate heritage by a way of endorsing the systematic fictions of the general contentment of the new world will not mess-up the whole idea, could hardly not be placed under the falsehood. It is so! But the sense of a lame man that we are could hardly differentiate between things. Less the distinctive difference between the animate things of which we belong. This is the realness of things, and not the actual one that having imbibed western culture, need to do everything within our reach to do with everything that is their practice such as those things they overlook too.

Walking in half- nude, or appearing on nude and all the dogmatism practicing on motion is the madness of the west believing that nothing is new. Much of this causes us to loose head to our natural beauty and dignity. I used the word “dignity” not to paint a picture of the beauty of our naturalness but to lay emphasis on the value which in the classicism of our heritage needs not to be a prisoner to time-changing and the place of our culture in the contemporary world. To that end, the very way of our life should be frequently injected into whatsoever message we were to pass across. And not the unforgivable ways mostly used in our home video. I believe this is not our realness. This is a borrow attitude to things. More important, it is not true to say that every movie with a definite theme has a definite costume or that such movie should be specifically made for the purpose of embodying the real value of west. I do not see any reason why we see things this way.
A peep into the mind of average Blackman; it looks odd to say we appear ingenious, or that there is no definite difference between ourselves and the west. Particularly on attitude to contemporary life, we need not for this, over-emphasize our ingenuity that we would make sense to time-changing to the benefit of time; our time! Or that we could combine both to prove our faithfulness to historic movement –embody our heritage of which without a deeper look we often see it silhouette. This is to say practicing is a wind of moral energy; it blows mostly where we had function so well. Every living being born to a particular race has uniqueness just as there are instance of similarities that unifies them all. But then, a man has a root, traceable to a particular source which forms the bases, or the bedrock of his existed yesterday, or his past self still reflecting on his presence. This is true! We do not need another theology or philosophy or possibly a psychology to tell us what we need to know about ourselves. Well, I am not saying categorically that we should limit our self to thing within our reach. I am only saying in an essence that we should not fail to remember who we were; the individual dignity, then the collective image of our dear nation.

This is all we need to know about our self in reality of others. Not to alter our self believing the world of global sense of unattainable reality. In due course, we would realize every alteration we may want to make to our heritage in the name of civilization may never be endorsed in an age to come. Or, if it would ever reconcile the present with the past-self in order to make out a better future. Although, all we had learned of the new world was through the study in the map of western world (education), but this only help us into our acknowledgement of a true-self. In this case, we were only being taught on how to bring out the best that is in us.

I suppose we can now understand that the posture and costume we use on our home video should be more of our own way of telling the rest of the world what they need to know about us; the realness of ourselves which should not be to our own knowledge alone, but to the applauding hand of the larger world, and not this attitude of cultivating an aspect of selling ourselves to their lanquoring eyes. Or even our-self! So that is what I feel or see of certain thing showcase on some of the home video I come across. It is so! Atlas, the ultimate reality to know that every role played is an interpretation of a reality, or existed reality but oh! We seldom gave it a thought.

Instance of this elaboration can be seen of movies from Asia- China, Hong-Kong, India etcetera of which we find solace too, in watching here; The chasten to culture- coloured elaboration often kept me at bay. It made me to want to see more of this side of the human race so significantly difference from where I was born into. The artefactic colour- collaboration of both the posture and costume were all what is needed to corroborate the beauty of each theme as desired to be told. Not that such movies does not exist here! It does! Only that the gap in between it and those that does not were still unabridged. Movies base on culture, or acted as an epic only unifies us with the pass-self which in real sense should not be judge as yardstick for promotion of culture. Rather, this only reconciles us; the presence, to the pass, in colour or language we could best understands so as not to derail totally from our true heritage. I think perhaps, that there should be up-to-date practicing that will enable the use of our own make-up rather than the usual ones in the name of new age.

I understand, the habit of reading in this part of the globe is nothing to write home about. On the other hand, people find solace in things that could elate their daunted spirit resulting either from rush about daily life, or the so-called object poverty. It is true, only a mind thrilling to the ecstasy can find it a desiring to want to learn thing about life, his immediate environment, or possibly to equip himself with the knowledge of others, in books. To him, books were meant for bed-time story which is not mandatory that he must tell. This is true! Real- true, a dispirited soul need only music, or movies to awake their daunted spirit. In this case, the music or the movies to which occupied the vital part of means of either learning or seeing new things that can make their hope alive should be made more of a way to access one-self, or possibly to make oneself outride the dispirited soul in the embodiment of other.

It is true; what we set either our mind or our eyes on so often, or constantly, automatically becomes part of us. This is crucial, for it relates not only with the outside world, but with the one within us which form the exigency of our outer- would.
By experience, I had had a part of life that falls under this category. Going by an aspect of a definite habit I, along with crops of teen or kid had exhibited in those period of childhood; and on the course of watching those kongful movies of the early nineties. It was fun! How we would draw line, tie rope to both our head and our waist we would name each other a name most used for the protagonist. Someone or, one of us would agree to be called by one of the antagonist name-making the whole exhibition a real fun.

Jack-Chan happened to be one of our favourite heroes; going by his role in that debunk movie; the drunken master, and a host of other. We would fight each other without course. Making same sound used in movies Bar- ground. Watching Indian movies too, the sound of interpretable song that colours that air usually escalates our childhood spirit. If you had live in Akure, or possibly, in any part at Ondo State in early nineties, you will understand this prompt.
Well, these could be related to childish stuff, how about the grown up ones that often find their ways, or themselves to the doorstep of pragmatism. How about the two ways round of modeling- once you try watching any theme as you so concentrated on, you will soon realize you’re accustoming them. You will find it much less like you’d been played into doing same. You might not understand why. But you discover that the sense is no longer on your watching any particular movies, but on more easily way you come so close into proactive-ness. This is true about what we set our mind on. There is no doubt! It is one of the informal ways of learning life. That is why, in any masterpiece, or in whichever way a production is made, there is always a trait or traits left behind. This is very true! Every tale told has no end. It continued it telling in the life of individuals who made it a point to watch.
That is why in whatever role we decided for in either our private or public life, or even on stage we should never forget the model in our individuality.

In all of this, we should understand that anything is not suitable for any story as decided to be told. Reason! A tale is not a record of any events happening to people, but of the response to event. It should not be seen as a fiction because all fiction makes uses of human character. And it tells more about the real mankind that we are in a terminology we could best understand. That’s why I believe any story been told has no end. It goes on and on though in a new dimension.

More so, it does not occur to the artiste on stage or on picture that he/she is a same person. It is a most trivial point. But all of this was found answered to. It will not be true to say the role we play on stage, or posture is difference. This can only make pretence of our true nature.

Though, every artiste has a giving role. Yet, the best of each role given only come so well from the individual character (nature), or the skill within us which are best part of our uniqueness as a human- being. So when you hear someone saying life on stage is a different thing in it entirety. Ask him/her in a jiff what make the difference. And if at all, there is any of such as it can be said of, it’s all pretence of a hiding truth about an identity. Well, I am not saying we should take everybody as serious or unserious as they appear on stage as their real-self. Rather, we should see this as our self being played on stage. But then, we should know that there is element of truth in our other self which were best played to the public. In this case, the role being played, of which is our other identity should be more of what could enhance our good growth, both morally and materially. We should been seen as a moral nature. And this starts from how we were being seen on our movies.

I think it is time a reverse on the trend to which our home video is being run. We should not let the position we held now in the world movies industries to derail us. We should understand, this trend did not start over-night, and so should not prepare to run it down if immorality dominates the aspect of our movies.

If there is any better way of saying “our collective values are absolute” I think it should start from our individual self. What we want, and want we don’t want. We could usually make impact into eradicating misconduct or any how shooting of home video that litters the street by a way of maintaining a standard regarding roles. We should understand that the gain of a certain production is seeing that the work live for all time. And not just the present gain! But the immortalizing role is playing in everyone’s life.

This aspect of things about movies industry in Nigeria took me back in a trail to the nineties, the trend to which our movies industry runned. This period witness what is called “Renaissance. The country was made to be established at this period as a focal point of intellectual trends and artistic accomplishments, to the emulation of the sister country of the black nation. It is quit true, this period witness debunk of intellectuality in the showcase of both the storyline and the artistic vision from the individual artiste in the body of actors and actress. And it must be so; this period provided all needed excitement in movies. Reason! I love to be placed on suspense. I don’t like to unravel mystery before it eventually unravels. Keeping people in dark gives them the opportunity to be awakening. More important, it allows a debate on the next action. It’s like the events about life. We only know today because we’ve seen it. Tomorrow is yet unknown. So, same way, I see movies of this period as a masterpiece.

Well, I am not an actor, or a dramatist. Neither am I an onlooker mere studying the passing show about life. Nor a mere spectator of nature’s fairy- land or it highly side; nor a mere passerby, walking the road-side of the way of life in dark. I am who could easily be referred to as a gentle –ordinary man-making a wave in his own way of acting a certain part associated with Goodman’s life. There is a universe which my likes belong; a universe influenced by a definite harmony owning by a nature sparks with unending melody. I am of a kind, who responds to things- beauty and truth whether in book, in colour painting, or in the passion of poetry.

FELIX ORISEWIKE SYLVANUS
163b SILVER CRESCENT
JAKANDE ESTATE, ISOLO
P O Box 1270, MARINA
LAGOS STATE
Blizzfelxcoo72ng@yahoo.com

OPEN LETTER, to Chidinma I

this is the story i intend sharing with you...take time to read it! afterward, i shall share the brief but details

OPEN LETTER; to Chidinma – On Going Away

No history is construe with another. Every tale told is a significance of itself – fashioned in it own way; not to the benefit of another but for the purpose of telling. But every reader of history – tale finds one thing or the other to act upon either by a way of emulation or by mere avoidance of same. No single man or woman has ever lived without having the opportunity of being exposed to the secret knowledge about his / her neighbour’s life, where they fell short, or possibly, the secret behind their success. Yes, all this can not and will never relinquish us from exercising what is within us. This is true. It could hardly be otherwise, except on the bases of difference in opinion which we form in response to situation. In-fact they are welcome, but only few individual will understand. Reason, they know that all human life is a bunch of contrast. So- they had learnt to take people for what they were made of.

Such as this, could not be said of you and me considering the brief moment we had together. But then, it would be difficult not to believe we did not cling well. Of course we did! Not only on the contour impression between the well click eyes, but on the coming close to share a part of life with each other. Instance of character trait though has no power over us – yet has played a role on this part of letting go.

Certainly, if we had had more time and space we would have found something quite difference and significance. Something so pleasant about you and I; two lovebirds who in no time would understand that in spite of common things about us there will be lots of thing that will come up which only culture of tolerance and understanding would help to overcome. It wasn’t so! We were young – two young lovers, and I understand we were yet to have all the access to decision making having outgrowth teen.

To some of us, in as much as we live under the umbrella of our parents we are still subject to whatever ruling that comes our ways regardless of opinion or choice. This is simply so! That is the stuff our society is made of. No doubt! But then, a child is a child, and he / she must be treated that way. Of course teen ought to be treated as teen with all manner of respect. Reason, this is a period of discovery. In this case, real parents help in that journey of self discovery by becoming a guided angel rather than imposing anything on the said individual. Nothing really works in cause of playing god. Rather they should look out for their strength, the object of their dreams or imagination. Or possibly what they spend most time in doing. Where urgent attention is needed, same should be done quickly. This is true about parents and children relationship. It gives them the room to share inter-personal things which is more than a friendliness sort of things. More important, it gives the access into each others way of life. Who both will not learn from one another? Of course they will. Parents learn meekness by being child while children learn life by virtues being around the grown one.

Well, I as a person can not in all respect boast of ever had this kind of parental relationship. Except during the upbringing of which is in-between my first six years as a child. I could only remember few things being close to them. All that I learn of life and my environment were in books which I had the good fortune to be exposed to earlier enough. I real lot-lots of books that cover space called human life. Much as I know and the style of life that has since become of me could not be found in lyrics found in books, the power house of music, the passion of poetry and the entirety interface with nature which in no small measure were found in the aspect of woman you are. The truth is, in all the above mentioned you had been paraphrased in form – the beauty which shall remain a beauty in this contemporary world and the very one to come.

Why am I saying this? When I came your, I gave no reason – it is risky to do that – believe me it’s really a risky to profess love to you at first meeting. That will only mean I am not telling the truth! You and I though bird of a feather, we wouldn’t have understood love could hit just like that. Reason, we were stranger – I have to that knowledge decided to come to you as a friend. Give you the opportunity to know which class of life I belong to, and in return have to study and know you despite the fact that I had a good knowledge of your kind of person by heart. All of this turned only an illusion. It pained me to know that we were unable to make man of such good things.

This isn’t a major reason for this piece. It is on your response to situation like this. How I too – had accept the outcome before I eventually left that part of the country.

It is not unusual not to come in the way of the world. It is unusual when related people come together in an unrealized circumstance. It is! This world that might remain a sensual one within is a kind put together even the whole other one was in total disarray.
The truth is your mother is an embodiment of something so indescribable. I own her all the respect to motherhood. Being alone in Benin , she made me to understand that I can make a home where I thought none could make me one. I was touched by her kind of gesture – love and acceptance. When she finds out we were in love her response toward me never changed, except when I decided to avoid all of you on the bases that you are running from me. She felt betrayed. And when I’d returned into that ford again I was accepted unconditionally, but you are venerably gone and out of reach.

Well, I am not writing to appease you, or to bring back to mind the moment already gone. This dilemma does not make me feel safe alone having decided to write you this way. Of course I am safe even without this, but all the great aspect of meeting you which was left unduly make me sick – not for myself but for the sense and sake of meeting you. For this I realize, in all, I shall continue to hate the idea of letting go. I certainly do not believe is a bad idea, it only means I can only make myself what I desire to be. I do not have power over another. So I should never dream of changing them to sweet my purpose.

Certainly I am not a kind of person who easily gives up on things. Neither do I disagree with the notion that when one door is shut another open. I strongly believe in dreams. Though, most make miserable of the presence, I think, perhaps, it only gives one the room to find out the true power of constancy about oneself in line with a vision of the mind at all time. More important, it gives s room to allow other things to take shape in our life. So – to this end, I leave the floor open for others.

Fortunately, everyone will have one thing to say. Not all will ever say the right things about you. Yet, this is the age of reason, often tag “civilization”. You see – everything is civilized. I mean everything about us, of which in a shared opinion would hardly not see the derail-ness of this society. That is why the rate of broken relationship and broken marriages is alarming. Everyone wants to be heard or reckon with. This truth is – nothing is wrong with that, but on the part of it application

True love as beauty as it is seldom happened between two perfect people. It’s either one is more influential, or vast in the field of life. Or that one is a teacher while the other is a pupil even in that grown up. To be a teacher and a pupil is to be speaker and a listener respectively in respect of status in life without considering the pain of subjecting oneself to such things that may look as demeaning one. By so doing – the two people involve will at the end grow together to become what is call perfect match, and the journey is done –

What is more? Long has the object of true love turned an illusion? What we often see today is only a business as usual. Average men and women believe love does not exit anymore. It is fashionable nowadays to tell someone you love them and in the next minute you frown at same. It is allowed – that is the stuff the society is made of. Yet – not in anyway has people discontinued this adventure that often left trait on them. Does this confirm our being afraid to be alone? Or that they just needed somebody to be with – share what is worth sharing or certainly, it would bring the fulfillment of creative purpose. Whether this is true or not, I cannot in all respect share this view. Reason, a view need not put aside the side of human dignity which were seldom consider whenever a case of calling off a relationship, or that of marriage is.

When you love someone – it is meant to be that way. Whether in thick, or in best of time, it is meant to remain the object of a part of life shared together in all sincerity regardless of what time bring. Reason! Life is not a bed of rose! So – whatever comes the way of lovers, ought to be a point showing each strength. All mankind must therefore show forth this altitude. Love is best seen in people who made up their mind to be a part of each other regardless of anything once they are convince that they are meant to be. To this end, we should never believe that everything about love is a fiction. If by a mere visualization, we concluded this way, we should understand that every fiction make uses of human character. As a matter of fact, what we call fiction is nothing but a replica of who we are in the object of our imagination.

The truth is that love exists, and it’s within the reach of every one of us. Whether young or old, man or woman, once you discover your place in God, the essence of living will be made manifested within in you. This is true about our individual – self in likeness of another.

Unfortunately, you and I never had a time of life. Only a form of defining of oneself – reason! Meeting you gave me opportunity of a journey of self discovery in a new way. And that’s all I’d live with – finding myself a place in the historical movement of this world. Indeed, you are part of my life! Only that you chose to go away.

More like I always wanted to reach you even when you never create such space again, I considered the possibility of not meeting you where we had both parted. The brief debate lasted for months. I decided then that since you are only a year away from college, it would not be advisable to come all the way from Lagos to Benin to profess love to you. Or to renew a commitment with you; to that end, I told myself a year is like a day and that would only reveal the full strength of my love for you considering the power behind returning to you after that interlude. This is only two years and eight months! I understand a lot has changed, we had changed too – you told me so. It took you minutes before you could recollect my name – less my face during the first telephone conversation. It is disappointing! I couldn’t trust that memory considering your mother quick recollection. What has gone wrong with your memory? After to all, memories don’t die – only people do. If to this time I shall no longer belong to you, my dear – it would hardly mean you belong to me. But then, you are still to me the perfect ordinary woman, and such that I can see going about life, you are unimaginable beauty of an incredible world. The world which is so dear to me

My love, I want you to know that love is being happy with someone who knows the truth about you, yet, decided to stay with you. Love will want to walk side by side with someone you love in the same direction in spite of the castrating eyes on street forming opinion – love soars on the wings of sharing experiences that are inspirational, humorous, exciting, or hopeful. Love could never be anything else if it can never be that when you look into the other person’s to find where your heart is beaten.

Chidinma, I don’t know if you really know that this is long tale about you and I. but I know you know, only that you were afraid your parents will scold you because I am a stranger, and a sojourner, – then, you were young. Did you ever discus me with your closest friend. Did you ever try to examine what I’m up to coming closer to you day by day by a way of drawing away from your elder sister whom is equally a friend? You are just more than friend to me. You are all I wanted. I fell in love with you even before meeting you and when I saw you, the real world was unveiled.

Meeting you had been momentary things, but it becoming clearer everyday that I did just meet you, I met you because I needed to and ever after, you reflect in everything that’s just to me. Everything that’s my dream – you really are rare; and I found joy always walking on the side of memory that’s you.

Do not think I had become so crazy about loving you. No! Love is not being crazy about someone or something; love is being temperament. Love inspires and excites. It uncovers the beauty part of our life in line with our dreams. A very sense of discovery! And that’s exactly what you’re to even at miles apart.

I remember you told you love poetry but don’t know how to write one. I remember it as if it were only yesterday. Well, I had written same to commemorate the brief moment we had together. Only to find out later you had been immortalized. To that end, you are far away while I can no longer behold your face. You never faraway because I see you every now and then; I don’t know why, but it might remain so!
One thing you should know is that once you establish an intimacy with someone, you will have an intimate relationship with that person for the rest of your life. This is the truth whether you are together, or apart, or certainly you are far away form one another, a part of that person will still be with you. Once two people fall in love, the love is always there to stay. You can’t push it away even if you want to. The excitement and the thrilling may fade but not the love; the love is just being buried by all the pain and the agony of human nature.

Looking at you now only in the tall mirror that lies in the eyes of the people always on the walkway, your reflection and this longing to talk and make merry with you again and again – if only we could just meet again, or probably afresh, and unfamiliar, or maybe familiar; then just forget about the running; if only time could return; or perhaps we could meet again – well, maybe that’s part of it all. We meet, and then part – but the most important thing is that we had met; and I will never forget you. Reason! Part of you had grown in me

Oh Chidinma, my love, my only dream! I don’t think I can ever be anything more to you than that I had never been. Though hope to – because hope believes that we can still meet if only there’s another place where we would. And altogether, I had left my heart in you -

In anyway you might look at things now, do not ever forget to remember that I am the poor boy who once fell in love with you. It is true, when I came your way; you never expect any gift from me. Neither do I – in that of the country. But these were the inevitable things about live! Anyway, I gave you one with all respect, and of which had exchanged for yours. Keep it is you so desire; and if otherwise, give it away. I shall find it again – though somewhere in age; that pieces of my heart-

Love unknown
Felix O. S.