The TimeWalker

I was the boy
Hairy, impatient, hopeful
A grandson of a great farmer
A veteran and a warrior
Hewn out of strong wills
Killing one eyed bugs
Fearing not man or beast
Eating the grains of the field
And the sweet Bees honey

I was the boy
Living ten thousand years ago
That walked the empty streets
Infested by dusts and droughts
Cladding a ragged cloth
Baking in the hot sun
Minding not stray barking dogs
I was the boy
Aware of the dying Earth
Of cannibal islands, and kings
Of all dangerous places
The depths of the Ocean blue
The lifeless deserts
The Triangle at Bermuda
And the cold Antarctica

I was the boy
Standing under the Baobab
Waving goodbye to the setting Sun
On his journey back to Slumber
Smiling with all my might
Watching the Egrets march
With the Wildebeest
Wondering, thinking, believing

I was the boy
Fighting in the Great War
Blackened out now and then
By the wild boom
Of the French metal canons
Fearing neither blood nor gun
Traversing the fields with the face
Smeared of grease and blood

I was the man
Living in modern cities
Picking exotic flowers
Walzing all over the town
Eating the ripe Plums
A hopeful, a grateful man
Loving both God and Nature

And now you just met me


Goodnight Tale

When I say goodnight

I meant I love you

And sad I am, to let my eyes

Close before you

Though my consciousness gone

My heart beats warmly

In ecstatic joy of you

And all you stand

To be for me



Ma H. Iroegbu

Mr and Mrs  John Iroegbu

Mr and Mrs Chuky Okorie


Miss Amen Christopher and Master Obongofon Peter



Shooting Star

Have you sat on a desk

Outside the cloudy dark

Waiting for some shooting star

On a journey to the east?


The dark solemn nights

Quiet, shy and calm

Whistles to the ears

Soft tunes of Mother Nature

Calling all beasts, and flora

Gathering a long tale

Like a stalk of leaves

Packed on a corner

The trees stand like

Halloween ghosts with daggers

And strange grasping fingers


Then a ray of light

Shoots by, fast like a lightning

Disappearing into the thin air

Chuckling as it flies about

Leaving the world wondering


Natures cruelty by Emeka Ogbonnaya

In a forgotten land
there was a forgotten bird
who spanned the length of River Kyle
longer than Nile.

In a forgotten land
there was a forgotten fish
who swam the nooks of River Kyle
longer than Nile

The forgotten fish fell in love with the forgotten bird
For several full moons
Through fatal storms
And lethal waves
and their love?
was longer than Nile.

Such height of love
But they couldn’t build a home
They never would

And their tears?
Were heavier than mine.

This is a second poem am borrowing from outside my work. Written by a good friend Chukwuemeka Ogbonnaya

Oiroegbu Halls


Musing: Lesson

This evening, watching the ants
A good lesson came by
Keep love in your heart
And every challenge is conquered

Oiroegbu Halls



She lay in my arms
Quiet, whispering and thinking
Listening to the tune
Of the Pines outside
I saw the pain, the grief
The despair maybe from disappointment
Not sure of the future
I wonder, I search her
I look all about for a clue
Beautiful she is, just lonely
Wallowing in an unseen pain
How strange my attraction
Seeing her bossom rise and fall
Feeling the beat of her heart
And the unseen tears of the soul

She looked up then
Smiled, perhaps aware of my gaze
With no words she rose
Walking warily, painstakingly
Confused I followed her smile
And my gaze fell on her side again
Watching her leave, kicking
The door slowly with a moan

Then a crack of thoughts came
What manner of woman loves
Seeing the world torn apart
And peoples limbs blown up
Blood had become the color
Known to the world, death
War takes her children
And she can’t bear it again
The trees die, paper is made
Then the life we have slowly
Walks away from us…

Oiroegbu Halls




Let the rains fall heavily
Wash our green fields free of blood
Let snow cakes clog boots and machines
Let air blow off deadly jets
Let all darkness turn to life – green and abundance
And let Divinity bless us humanity
Let the world know some peace
Let Mother Nature declare war on War!
Oiroegbu Halls


Remember me

Remember me, when old and frail I become
When the tales I tell, leave my lips
All emboldened in my cold heart
And all I could is mutter

Remember me when my white face
Darkened and old become
And my skin dry from my age
And all I can is to wimp

Remember me when my bones light becomes
When the nights I sit all alone
Waiting for your companionship
And all I can is to limp

Will you remember my love for you,
When in our youth, the skies glitter
And all sweet memories by the fireside
Of many tales, you and I?

Oiroegbu Halls


A friend and family

I offer you my hand
Take it, make it one of yours
It is a piece of my heart,
That I give you
Keep it safely with you
For yours is safe with me

Friends are roses
Their aroma smells
From afar off
Their light, like the sun
Throwing warmth to us
Following our paths
And casting a shadow
Of companion besides us

Thoughts of friends
Brings smiles to us
The joy they bring
Better than a Kings banquet
Memories lifelong locked
Brothers, sisters, lovers
A very big family we are

Friends are family
Not by blood, but by love
With love we build a family
Around the globe and yonder
And though things change
We must begin and end
With the family of friends

Oiroegbu Halls


An Elfy ear


Talk about my ears
All the while I was an alien
An item of friendly mockery
Yes, the ears are special
Made to hear not this earth
Divine, a gift of nature
Giving to this innocent child
A burden bestowed
A blessing to see
To hear the faintest
Of voices, of the trees calling
Of the crickets, the bees humming
And the Snakes rattling
The streams silent whispering
And the echoes of the hills
The ears are cute,
Maybe I was actually an elf

A lot to it, mock it though
But do not touch the ears

Oiroegbu Halls




Listen to the voices of your conscience
To the voices hewn to the strings of your heart
The drum player from across the forested hills
Beats the rhythm, that searches the mind
And asks many questions,
On a cloudy evening
During the time of the Harmattan
Comes a drummer, followed by a flute
And when the little village hears
All strives to listen
From the farms tucked away in dangerous forests
To the little children playing on the sands of the hamlet
The wine tapper on the tree top
And the young women weeding the hamlets garden
All listens to the unworded call

Remember your debt as agreed
Do not steal the Kings cattle
Don’t sell any man to another
And don’t keep your heart full of grudges

To your hearts plea for righteousness
Never to be biased, but to seek justice
Do you hear the drums playing?
Listen and pay heed

I wrote a colonial African drama- Am Listening. Staged in the time colonists came to Africa, and the tale of two royal clowns who ended up selling off the Kings son to a White man.  I hope to publish the drama soon.

Oiroegbu Halls


To Love

How beautiful it is to love
Two hearts to become one
To see from the same reason
To dance under the tree
On nights the moon shone
How lovely it is to love
Even when the earth
Full of pain and tears
Cloud about the atmosphere
But the love we have
Shields us from all thrusts
Of the worlds grieve

Oiroegbu Halls


Though it came a Lil late


I wish I could chat you all one at a time. Thanks for coming by to read me. The joy of a writer is the audience he has. You guys gave me the nod to go ahead, thanks. Can’t mention all your names for space- followers, readers, commenters and those who had liked my pieces right from the first day, I see you and am always glad seeing you around. I love you guys and you are the reason I write. Let’s continue our work, to write and to paint. And may thanks be to God maker of man, nature and poetry. Happy new 2015 to you all.

And please do not mind the goofing picture of mine greeting you… I am at best being funny.

Oiroegbu Halls


The Spider lair


Oh see the spider web
Fine, gay and lonely
Clean it is and well kept
How clean mother spider seem!
Quiet, harmless and welcoming
A fortress she clones
But an abattoir
For any visitor

The spiders web
Lies empty in wait
Expectant of a kill
A stray fly or bug
Oiroegbu Halls


The Poet-Painter

The painter is a poet
The poet is a painter

There comes a time
When we shall paint the world
With all beautiful hue
Beautiful, light and colorful,
Make her look like a butterfly
Broken out from a cocoon
Adding a fresh lively color
To the worlds darkness
The oceans blue is a painting
The long Spruces on immaculate icy lands
The green forests on hilly scapes and wildlife
A rushing white river, drifting down the waterfall
The red rose and the paper heart crimson
The light feathered Swallow flying above the mountain
In your heart there’s a painting
Shy and hidden from the world
Try seeing the sweetness
Of coloring the thought
That grows in the heart
Try seeing the strength
In painting the world
In a goodly color
And never again
Will the world be the same

Oiroegbu Halls


Despair not

Cry not pretty child
There is no greater slavery
Than self rejection and pity
If the world had repainted
The landscape unfavorably
Do not yield, life is more
To this, the living soul
Perseveres, in knowing
Of the short time of life
Nothing on this earth,
Your golden tears worth
When all falls off the way
Kneel, meditate and pray
Think not painful thoughts
Do not take your precious soul
For earthly vanity
Be happy always,
The breath in you
Which many have not
Life is an unfair umpire
She denies men their desire
But then the breath in you
Surpasses all goldmine
It’s worth more than oilfields
And riches ever seen on earth
So, brother do not despair
For the breath in you
Is the greatest wealth you have!

Oiroegbu Halls


::Little Woobly Weebly Froggie Dance::


Oh little wiggly woobly weebly Froggie
Dancey on a longey quiet bluey lake
‘Wob wob’ it shrieked on a mild evenings air
calling the Natures big and small
To a short lively weebly woobly dance…

Pic provided by Mary Grace M. Salomes

I decided to write a short piece for children. My friend, Mary from the Philippines had long taught her neighborhood children the rhyme.

Oiroegbu Halls


A Tale of Fantasia


There’s a land far far away
Somewhere any good traveller can reach
A strong march thru fields of green and yellow wheat
Which on it hides, flesh eating Ostriches
And undisturbed monitors fighting to get a bite of flesh
A sky that changes apparitions when stirred
Across the long deep oceans
With sea monsters, cucumbers huge as a baby whale
And fishes with huge eyes and teeth
Hunting and scaring, even the bravest of men
And thru the vast lonely desert
And dangerous dunes of the East
Lays the gigantic sand scorpions
With poisonous and alluring cactus
Along its way lay tracks of seductive women
Who tie hijabs, like the Arabian ladies
Mocking the travellers with black painted eyes
Luring them into the lairs of great slave owners
All march and seek, Fantasia
As an old drunk sitting on an inn
Sings all day, telling the tales he had seen
Of great deeds of merry men
Who had crossed all odds
To see this enchanted land
To behold the land where ladies dance
Laughing as the men call out their desires
Allowing the rhythm of the song move their hand bracelets
And enjoying the attraction they get from all
This man sang of a very proud cloud
Which is benevolent, and caring
Rains when there is a heartbreak on lovers
Shines brightly when the cold hands of the Wind comes
And allows the green to shed the lands and fields
Fountains of waters lie here and there
The sweet smelling fragrances of Lilies
The crawling Vine showing off her yellow fruits
White cattle with udders heavy with milk
Stray about looking for a handy help
And all across the land stand all kinds of trees
Life given shrubs, well groomed and grown
The bees make honey, and cares not who steals it
The sun is mild, at least till the Windy villain comes
The land is naturally terraced, built with a touch of magic
And beauty that beats human doings by fringes
The black clouds rain strong ale,
And the snow are soft raisins
The streams are flowing wine
Which invites the drunks to sit by and dine
The banks are lined with strange bread cakes

And if a traveller happens to come by
With his company, horses, men; wary and weak
Then all their journey miseries they forget
For a taste of Fantasia, relieves the mind

Oiroegbu Halls


Look into my eyes


Look into my eyes
See how special you are
Feel my heart jump with joy
And that is cos you are here
With me, and the setting sun
See the sun set
She laughs, and throws a kiss
Waving a goodbye, saying
Say your mind little fella
But here I stand, speechless
Shy, afraid and uncertain
You are here with me
But I am scared cos I love
But can you feel my heart
Do you know how I feel?
The Wind takes my mind away
She mocks my timidity
Asking the pouting clouds
To join the jeer
All the time you stand before me
Thinking why, I believe
Just want my love
To come, with the right feelings
Go ahead stare into my grey eyes
See the pleadings that it sends
You will see how much I missed
All this time
Oiroegbu Halls,


The Stream, Kpere

Then I heard your drift,
Flowing through the forest
Washing men’s nakedness…

When there was love
When on the stream side I sit
Trying to peer thru the tall shrubs
I saw the white clouds
Clear as the sweet spring water
Leaping in joyful haste,
In boundless ecstasy
Washing the little rocks
Pulling pebbles along
Giving a taste to the hungry soil
Pushing the brown crab about
Carrying all, even a stray serpent
The clannish green ferns
Nodding towards one another
Wave always with the streams tide
Enjoying the serene acre
Of all green abundance
Further ahead, the swift current
Pours off the rocky waterfalls
A tamed forest of some sort
The birds call from the treetops
Partridges, passing pigeons and Hawks
Howling from the vast bush
All admiring the sight, perhaps
Which can not be accustomed to
Each day the stream side
Look renewed and the greens fresher
The tendrils of the bamboo soft
And the heap of huge rocks
Standing, a giant monument
The fishes in the stream
Swim about like mock kings,
Sometimes turtles come around
Sluggish, looking tired, even
When nothing they must have done
But the waters flow on
In joyful haste and ecstasy

The Kpere stream is in Umudinja, Ovim in Nigeria. Umudinja itself is a growing town and has several communities. The stream area harbors big rocks and exotic species of flora and reptiles. It is a fine distance from human dwelling.
Childhood memories include seeing dangerous reptiles of different sizes on the stream side, mostly snakes. The fishes are not eaten, and some are as big as a mans two hands combined! The stream serves many communities as water source, but with the coming of the pipe borne water it has been abandoned and wild animals like hyena, wild dogs and pythons are said to have been sighted in the vicinity and the near forests.

Oiroegbu Halls



Here I stand at the corridor
Of my Granny’s fine hut
Staring at the white cloud
Which sits across the horizon
The silver linings give the skies
A touch of painted gold
A grip of the Earths blossom
Posted across to the world
Green, black, and gold

I had seen all this
It lives in my heart
I feel it all
I feel so alive

Another day reminds me
Of the night an aunt
Called me a reincarnated
I wonder how truthful that is
The fact that most friends of mine are elders
And they all find pleasure being in my company
I tell myself, ‘you must be an old man!’
Then they say, if you wash hands
You eat with the elders,
See my arms, full of hairs
But my age is less than that
A growing beard sprawls across my face
A gift from my strong grand father
A hunter, a warrior and a farmer
They say also, what a sitting elder
Sees from his seat, a youngster
Will not see from his tall ladder
Now they say it often
A reincarnate, living soul
The paintings in my mind are numerous
How could I paint them all?
I reveal what I see
I talk to friendly insects
And all life giving trees
Plants, hills and rivers

The grey eyes of mine
Sees the faintest hue
My eyes are not the best
They are just borrowed
Perhaps my fathers, and the
Hairy body from the grannies
I am made up of many people
They had taught me ethics of free men
Understanding that the Hawk must live
The Eagle must also live too
None must forbid the other
From living or doing his own thing
Maybe that is the reincarnation
They so much spoke of
With such grim believe
That I shudder with thought

Oiroegbu Halls