olofofo

it was a small thing…
no direct words…no obvious look…
it was... the small things…flicker of his right eye-lid…
minuscule flaring of his nostrils…
quickened pulse in left temple…and I knew
it was time to make for the door…
leaving behind ...foul fragrance of my falsehood…
I watched my soul-man disintegrate before my eyes…
...he knew…
How?…I don’t know…
was it fresh smell of fresh foreign saliva…lingering on my…
freshly kissed lower lip…
Was it…
new crease on my…delicately woven scarf…Hermes bond of truth…
come ever so slightly undone…
Or was it…residue of flesh under my...tapered fingernails…
remnants of rawness shut-off behind closed door of…
...the linen closet he had watched me steal through…
mere minutes before…
It was the small things….
Heightened sensation on finger pulse-points from all sides…sought to point me out…
Find me out…
Flushed out by deep flush on my cheeks…
I welcomed the cold night….beneath my skirt…
Still warm from passion incomplete…
Frozen dis-satisfaction…
I sat frozen on leather seat of desire misfired…
Final engine rev of resolve carried me away into night colored with ink smoke…
And I resolved to put an end to it…tomorrow.

chatter

Words railing against railings of strictured silence

It is still a struggle to

Put through this pen-ultimate vehicle

These things that talk inside of these fore-corners

So I strip my mind of it’s lethargy and

Wear the conspiracy of thought and action

As talisman about my neck

Nestled within that hollowed movement

Throbbing gong of warning…

Telling all bearers of false news to

Stay away

For I want, this day, to speak only the truth.

Once upon a time in the city of Jos.

Water clot in my neck…is…/thick knot of tears for Danladi’s mother…

….whose dust filled screams echo in blue black night…long after they both died …ten seconds apart…/ “who will milk the goats tomorrow morning Danladi if you die today…/who will bring Baba’s kunu Danladi…if you die today…/who will wash pebbles at the well with Sundiata… Danladi if you die today.../who will….”

…he could smell her fear…Danladi could…the putrid scent of her shit…her very bowels sending up supplication to the marauders from hell… as she begged for the fire to fall on him first…so…her son would not see her burn…/he could still hear crunch of his father’s skull unfamiliar with the heel of an intruder’s boot…/proud silent death without a word of complaint…

he could still hear…./ “who will take Hajja-mama to the mosque Danladi…if you die today…/how will you go to school Danladi…if you die today…./who will carry Baba’s name Danladi…if you die today…/all life will change Danladi…nothing will be the same Danladi…if you die today….”

I release tears that join the rush of the Benue....let us meet the Niger at Lokoja…and pray at this eternal binding knot of earth and water…for the souls …of all the sons of this our Plateau. 

call to kill a king

Look at us…caught in our own nets.../powerless marionettes…slaves to the rot we bore that now…feeds the sores in our own souls…/how can we exclaim at the salacious words we spoke into our own existence…how can we…deceive our own children…/we beneficiaries of our father’s victories…we have turned from our inheritance…/gifted it to our pallbearers…who now carry righteous spirit of our ancestors as charred refrain of their death songs…. /we rail at the nonchalance of our leaders…/leaking gourd of our fountain head…/oozing suppuration of a false…rotten imagery…close to his death…./what is this we are crying for!!!...../natural order of things is handing us deliverance from…misguided selection…/corroded semblance of a structure once proud….now run aground.../let us realize the possibility within grasp of all who have the slightest will and reach.../and catch a new dream…/leave behind the wastrel heirs of these past years…/find a way to kill this imposter…/and crown a king that this generation can adore.

shutter release: part une

each day gives..greater gift of time

i have called key to my release away from your hands
and by God... i do declare that i feel free
i am ...emptied of image of my face next to yours
this aimless chase
has ended in what it would only
ever have brought...
death to whatever truth is in my soul
death to brave expression of limitless sensation
death to the call of seemless possibility
life of wonder is in my power to safekeep
and i have locked it away in a place
your darkness can never reach

each day you grow even more unnecessary.

Funsho

it is in these quiet pockets of sweetness/when you...draw me inside circle under your chin that i...remember why i keep you close...you.../lover of my soul...you... peace keeper.../you garnish my...darkest thoughts with...slivers of your.../sweet affection...you/bring to resurrection.../image of how your brown ribbed palm covers...nape of my neck...and them some.../whiskers caress my ear as whispers fill the air...and you/tell me how you adore me.../and through haze of morbid wondering.../through phase of sharp rebirth...you remind me again...to remember to love.../as hard as you love me.../to breathe life to my own breast....to...marshal senses that bring me to place of my senseless passion.../call my pleasure to attention.../to remember you....and how your love is better than life.

...i remember you.

when i grow up

and i speak with... resolute profoundness that belies my years.../what is this sound that has made me glad.../
i am inside waterfall hidden cavern../thundering pillar of power thrusts me into womb carved by the finger of God.../hound dogs are dead.../pursued only by my desire to hear laughter at my funeral.../fireworks at my passing.../charitable memories of me.../the child i touched...the daughter i delivered.../the laughter i wrought.../oh to be bringer of love to a hut full of hurt and bad knowledge.../i want to murder the marauders of childhood virtue.../mad longing for saving grace for the world...drives me on.../like the waves from this here cave..../strong.../i embrace my desire to be great.