Little seed

Small seed, a poor prize
Which I carried along all this while
In my forgotten pocket and in my heart
I am going to plant it someday though
And watch it grow from my window
And everytime I wake in the morning
I shall look to it as the sun rises
From my old rusty window
And I shall remember everything
That ever happened to me
The good, the bad and a memory
That must tell me how lucky
I am to make it home



When the creepy hands of darkness departs
Then comes a flush of renewed energy

Do you feel the sweet and virgin morning airs, fresh?
Do you love the warmth that comes with the rising sun?

The mornings signify a new life
Never tie yesterday to this new life
But stay awake to the worlds vanity
Be conscious of the worlds dying love
Of deception, lies and gross pretence

After the ice-cold winter
With dead tree silhouttes
Comes the blessed summer
With sweet ripened raspberries

The world may seem dark and hopeless
Plants die and cripple to live again
In its wake, she becomes so pretty
And nothing takes her innocent green

Let your heart remain beautiful
Let all sweet memories of goodness
Be alive in you, aye!
Make it a garden of vegetables
Drive the poisonous thorns off
Live a life, help deserving people
Read my poetry, stay beautiful!

Do not despair, nothing stays forever
Many a lessons are learnt in mistakes
The beautiful faces sag and lose it pride
The wise and foolish all one day dies
The good soul is beautiful
The face withers, it is a deception
Noth, deserves a golden burial
In the wake of something new
Let your thoughts come swiftly back
You can be you, without the departed

See the world newly
Pray and talk to God
Write your own stories
Read with smileful infants
Run after pretty butterflies
Pick fruits from the mango
Watch an ant colony
Sit under branchy trees
Stare at the moon alone
Tell a tale to the world
Paint the colors in your mind
Count the night stars
Believe in you, be cuter!
Be yourself, be better
Dream bigger, be stronger
Never be scared of loving again
Rather be a human being!

For when a tree looses a leaf
Another one grows to replace it


Beautiful Dreams from Heaven

When Dreams come to one
Grip them with all you have got
The dews of Heaven bring them
The smiles of infants in the morning
A very cold winter blowing in might
And twittering of birds by your window
The falling red tree leaves in a park
And the blossoming of the golden wheat
The rising sun upon the white horizon
The softness and tenderness of mushrooms

God, the Father bring these to us
To all, to you, to me and these Dreams
Make all things about life beautiful


Silhouettes and Fear

What lurks in the darkness and nights
Waiting to jump on ones neck
When no light come from the stars?

What bears a fur and Sabre tooth
And follow the silhoutte of preys
Even as one walk in the lonely park?

What stands in a dark tree plantation
Running its ferocious claws on tree barks
And howling to the new moon rising?

What strikes grave horror and terror
Running after mens heels
Trying to stand before ones face?

What wears a sinister painted mask
With forbears of evil and coldness
Trying to feed on gullible peoples minds?

Nothing fearful is actually real
But when the night and shadows are gone
Fear only, He who kills the soul and body


The days toil

Now my eyes close before Thee
Grant me sweet night airs and peace
Let my slumber be quiet and undisturbed
For the long days toil made had me tired

Let Thy eyes move before me each day
To guide and show me the right way
When the moon and stars leave the night
Always let Thy presence stay before my sight


Beautiful days stay unseen

When the dark clouds come upon the clan
All grow dim, sobre and quiet
The stars are hidden from sight
But the dark cloak holds all down
The stars, the hopes and good dreams
The fireflies cast a minute light
On the stormy and windy night
The clouds bear a weird apparition
Confused at his very own face

When the days light come
The strange feelings of loneliness
Evaporates like dews upon the tree leaves
Birds wake to sing, gladly even with sweet voices
Multitudes of fluffy nightingales weigh down
The strong branches of the Teak and Gmelina
The sun rays are bright
Upon the clans stream waters
It glitters with pretty light
Hues of green, yellow and purple
Swaying dregs of falling dusts
Fall from long farm rakes
As they pull up the dried hay
The tree leaves are ever green
For the previous nights darkness
Took this beauty from mens vision
There is abundant joy and bewildment;
Astonishment come on the clans glare
The wheat fields are golden and pretty
The ears of grains waiting to be picked
Dancing happily to the beautiful day
The sun shines
The clouds blue
The birds play
On happy trees

Beautiful days are not come yet


The Desert city

The church bell chimes quietly in the city
But this little town is left to Pity’s mercy
The only noise heard was the airs whine
Upon the obscure paintings as the only signs
Old dirty newspapers fly about
Passing telegrams to misty ghosts
Swerving from one side of the road to another
Times decaying touch plays the asunder
The hot sun bake the half-fallen houses
Overlooking abandoned shirts and blouses
Strange smell of burnt gas filter about
Drawing no attention, for everything care not
The airs here owes it all to the dusty wind
The broken glasses are strongly dust-tinted
Then from a lonely house by the roadside
The scenery and futility of the marvellous wild
Can be seen, structures, nature and hue
Even when the beautiful skies are dark blue
There are no birds to be seen around
Fine thorny cactus grow on the sandy road
Whereas trees are long dead from the Suns heat
No water, no moisture, no liquid of any sort
The drainage pipes of households are broken
Picturing a thousand years of abandon
And the undecent airs from there sucked away
For this city though lost to the world still stay till today

When the Sun rises, she paints a warm golden color
Upon this lonely, quiet and deserted city
For the only lovely sight here is the waking Sun


Wake me up

Wake me up
With your tears
Of love and care
Let my consciousness comfort you

Wake me up
To plough the fields
To gather wheats
And see your smiles

Wake me up
Even when I’m strengthless
To feel the airs
Come from the mountain

Wake me up
Draw back the curtains
Let the Golden Sun
Come shining into the room

Wake me up
To tell the world
About your love
And how it changed me

Wake me up
To the falling rains
To Heavenly desires
To Gods sweet grace


Musing: Crickets

Crickets are my best insects
But why? I know not
They stay under my bed
And cry out till I have an ache up my head
But what they say also I know not
Though I think they talk about broth
Wonder why little insects
Grow even beer intent
They growl, some bark
And all these come to my back
‘Stop’ I would shout
‘No way, you are talking to yourself’
I wonder if they cared if I was asleep
‘Who does he even think he is?’
They squeak behind my hearing
Not knowing my elfy ears pick all
‘Yaaay! Let’s shriek more!!!’
They stubbornly seem to say
When they seem to hear me snore
Come what happens or may
The shrieks and strange crickety talks
Come to me as disturbing lullaby


A New Day

The morning sun brings joy
Now that the dark has gone
And the clan is wide awake
To begin the days routine

The clouds are bright
For the new day has come
Birds fly away over the hills
The forest trees drift about

The mists are sucked off
As the heat of the Sun shine forth
The airs are dry
The winds are flirty

The infants wanting milk wail
Dogs, cats, pigeons; pets play about
The clan is ready to work
For the day waits for no man

The morning has come
Hopes are high
The traders offload their goods
And the town is fully woken



See how you dance by the river banks
Throwing your green hands up
And swerving to and fro to the airs rhythm
With the suns warmth you waltz
Nodding to the chattering of your pals
When a strong wind comes you wave
Faltering and bowing to the winds grace
Enjoying yet the rough caressing of the airs
So firm your stem look but tender they are
The better half of the day you sit by the riverside
Listening to the talk of the wayside toad;
And his merry kinsmen
As they tell the tales of men and women
Who come to the river by the day
To wash their bodies and their clothes
The little fishes listen too to the tales
Wandering about when all is serene
Scuttling off when a shadow appears before them
But all this while, you stay nodding about
In a fix of dance and amusement


Come this thunder, 1967

Come this thunder
When the nights glitter with explosions
The resemblance of fire-cracker carnivals
And as the rattling for supremacy
Is heard from heartless machine guns
Spewing the seeds of destruction
Upon unfortunate children and men
‘Kwaa-pu kwaa-pu kwaa-pu, unu dum!’
‘Leave here,’ the emissaries of death say
Flying limbs, headless bodies and chaos
Destruction to humanity and justice
But the world stood watching
As children turn pale, clutching
Hungrily to their protuding intestines
No salt, no salt, no salt!
Meanwhile the jets throw their bombs
Murdering defenceless people and clans
The infantry is filled with anger
Bloodthirst, frustration and revenge
And the world watched it all
It was an action packed movie

But let the fowl allow the worm be
No matter how they chose to live
For freedom is deserving to all people
Who desire it wholeheartedly

Line 8: Kwaa-pu kwaa-pu kwaa-pu, unu dum! An Onomatopoiea for the sound of heavy artillery and in Igbo meaning ‘Leave here, leave there, leave here, all of you!’

For the Biafran babies and Christopher Okigbo

Learn Igbo language here.


Two Poems of Oke’ Iroegbu, The Apple and The Summer

The Apple blossom and turn red
Before now the Pines tell her
‘You are not what we think you are’
For then she was green and young
And when the wind blew around
The forest side, she swerved about
Like a tree leave upon a branch
‘I will blossom some day, you know’
She would say and always chuckle
Blushing in grave but absolute innocency
And in deep shyness she would look away
But these Pines would always look to her
Trying to see a fault, two or more
But the Summer will ripen all
And the grapes would never be the same again

When Summer arrives with her smiles
And the wheat fields glitter gold
As the clouds turn blue and white
And the Suns heat wake from her slumber
Painting the Earth with awesome hues
And all about the farm, joy and gladness
Awaken warm apparitions of love
Sweet memories of nice wine tasting
And the horse rides across the beach
The camp at the bush of hares
And the gathering of sour-sops
Summer comes taking the coldness
Upon the Earth and off peoples hearts


The Waterside

…by the Waterside

See the waters queer like a green tea
Flowing quietly in the dry season
The haste of waters upon the rocks
As the tides airs treat the trees
And all lively nature around it
Even in the quietness of the stream
A sort of hush and joyful sigh is heard
A soft romance of mother Nature
Between the bold rocks and the waters
And the mild air and the nearby trees
Near a steep the waters fall happily
Throwing up crystals, very white
And to the setting Suns warm heat
The falling crystals throw kisses
As the birds fly away-
Heading home to their nests
When the blue clouds grow dim
And all hue leave the Earth


A beautiful morning

It is a beautiful morning
With the Golden sun rising
And my slumberness, waking
This Light comes new to me
A perfect start for a day to be
Your Love Jehovah comes to me
For You are this pretty Light I see

From behind the light curtains
The sweet blessed airs flow in
They come and my eyes has seen
The beauty of Your love and where it could be found
Glory to God, my Sovereign!


The Crow and The Rabbit

A Crow was sitting on a tree
Doing nothing all day.
A small Rabbit saw the crow,
And askd him, ‘Can I also sit like you
And do nothing all day long?’
The Crow answered: ‘Sure, why not.’
So, the Rabbit sat on the ground
Below the Crow, and rested.
All of a sudden a Fox appeared,
Jumped on the rabbit and ate it.

Moral of the poetale is: To be sitting and doing
nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up…


Crystals of Water

I hear your swift surge
Like the snaky locomotive
Cockcroaching thro tunnels
And sighing along the way

See the waters clear as the sweet spring;
Leaping crystals surge forward in haste
The waters run in joy to other lands
Feeding the shorelines all this while
Pulling along the stray crab and the torn ferns
And letting the wooing breezes of the forest befall


The Lone Wolf

Slowly tis moon surge-by
Two shades join in harmony
As the door sides creak
Allowin’ the cold airs
To filter in calmly
Blind winds blow boldly Dogs bark and whine
And the pines call
Fear knows not himself
Yet a dark cloak
Sweeps fast across the lane
Creepy and with leaps Takes cover behind the shrubs
Blood-shot eyes of fury
Lips of dried amber drops
Teeth filed straight like the Sabre
Ears dropped to navigate
And the fur; painted half dark Gross nose and a hot fume
When the dogs bark;
There is somethin’ out there
Somethin’ is walkin’
Takin’ a lonely stroll
Castin’ a scary shadow Across those empty roads


To Love…

I am writing to you
Cos of the pain in my heart
The distance we created
For nothing sake

But I am pained
Though you see it not
Love hurts a lot
But it has its worth

But remember…
I will be pleased
Only when I see you smile
Only when I see your grin
And the little chuckle you do
All that brings pleasure to you
I desire to give
That’s all about loving



The dusts wane
Clouds are free of them
Birds ski up the sky
And people return home
A fresh start to begin
And that is just lifes swing


A Lovers Tale

I remember when you left for the city, walking lean and tall
When at the hilltop you turned to wave me the last goodbye
I remember the tears of the little ones as they try to hold you back
When as you walk away, facing the suns light as she grew dimmer
I remember your lovely heart warming letters written to me
When I thought I saw your face on the passing blue clouds
I remember when you sold your cloths to buy me food
When even in your traversing you sent me weekly flowers
I remember the queer nights we danced under the baobab
While the airs were soft and sweet and the moon shining brightly
I remember your tenderness, your care, your trust in me
Even when you travelled the world to find my daily bread
I remember your promise to love me forever
To hold me even as I become old, weak and frail

I return my promise to love you with all my being,
With all that God Almighty has given me
And that my love for you shall never die


Quiet nights

Quiet nights can be romantic
And when one- a poet is alone
Words of reason come to him
But stray night flies sing about
And the crickets quiz themselves
Proposing numerous theories
Asking questions and reminding
One another of the quiet day
To them the nights should be noisy
It should be one of merriment
Noise making and enjoyment
Well, quiet nights come
When the body is at rest
And no humanly noise is felt
But for stray flies and crickets


The Rising Sun

The sun rise up the clouds
Quietly she wakes from her slumber
She sucks up the mists on rooftops
And on the branches of trees
And she paints our land gold
Bringing warmth as she ascend
Revealing the wild places of the forest
And throwing her light upon the rivulet
So the waters shimmer brightly
And the leaves on trees glitter

Hail, the sun rises from the East


The Rat and the Bat

A rat made friends with a bat
And they always fed together
But then the bat was jealous of the rat
When the bat cooked the food
It was always very good
And the bush rat will always ask
“How is it that when you make soup
It is so tasty?”
The bat will always hide in one excuse
Finding a way to do harm to his friend
But one day the bat decided to trick the rat
So when the rat asked after the soup
The bat replied, “I always boil
Myself in the water, and my flesh
Is so sweet, that the soup is good.”
He then told the bush rat that he
Would show him how it was done;
So he got a pot of warm water,
Which he told the bush rat was
Boiling water, and jumped into it,
And shortly afterwards came out again
When the soup was brought
It was as sweet and good as usual
As the bat had prepared it beforehand
The bush rat then went home and
Told his wife that he was going to
Make good soup like the bat’s
He therefore told her to boil some water
Which she did hurriedly
Then, when his wife was not looking
He jumped into the pot, and was very soon dead. When his wife looked into the pot
And saw the dead body of her
Husband boiling she was very
Angry and reported the matter to the king
Who gave orders that the bat should be caught
And made a prisoner for misleading the rat
Every one turned out to catch the bat
But as he expected trouble
He flew away into the bush and hid himself
All day long the people tried to catch him
So he had to change his habits,
And only came out to feed when it was dark
Perhaps that is why you
Never see a bat in the daytime.



Strings of flax fall from your stress
Hides carved from animal skin
And strange cloth embellish you

You swerve around like a drunk
Scaring children and younger folk
Caring for nothing but for asunder
The masks on you remind of the hyena
Your whip dragging behind you as you walk
As you seek peoples’ doors to knock
The dogs are scared of your appearance
For they cant stop your uninvited attendance
At homes, mothers yell for their kids
But you only care for your needs

Learn the Igbo language here.

Now palm beer is brought before you
And some lobes of finest of kola nut
For appeasing of the spirits which are come
Unto men from the ancient hills and caves
Let the kettle see the pot as a friend
And not as a foe for they two are black
Let the Eagle perch and the Kite as well
None should forbid the other from perching
Now have the fill of your beer
For your next bus stop
The wine might not be as good as this


Musing: Chinyere Duroha

I heard you fought near Libya
And other parts of North Africa
The stories told of your bravery
And as I watch your old pictures
As you pose with a rifle in the front
I wonder, I ponder
Will I ever grow your courage?
I was told about your exploits
About how you beat up a racist
The promotion that followed afterward
And the stories of bunker fights

I heard that you hunt in the forests
When men stay asleep and the day is gone
And the moon is gone far away from home
That you killed pythons and wild cattle
And that you hold many titles in the clan
I wonder, I ponder
When such strength I shall grow?
Heard about your ways with the wild
How you study the fish and the bird
Your traps that caught antelopes
And the wild and crafty porcupines

I heard that you farm virgin lands
That you love your people and life
And you also love your tradition
That you plant the king of foods
And you give to the needy and poor
I wonder, I ponder
If I could be this, I appreciate
I heard of your large yam barns
Of the gardens of fresh vegetables
I heard of your discipline and love
For your family and for my mother

Now they call me a reincarnate
But how true are these they say of me,
Am I such or should I wait to see?

For Chinyere Duroha
World War 2 Veteran and my grandfather


Start new, 2016

Seeing this fresh new year
Reminds of how dear
We are to God, Almighty
From the jungles of East Africa
To the snowy lands of Canada
Arise, be blessed, be lifted!
From the sands of Arabia
To the icy terrains of Russia
Let joy be-filled in your dealings
And from the cold nights to come
Even as the suns scorch come
Do not falter, for all is new
Let hope arise as the sun wakes
Carry on, be glad for life’s sake
You saw the start of something great
And at the end
We all acknowledge the Lords deed
For His power alone kept us
Let your voices sing, “we made it” thank God!
For all this while, He has made all new and blessed”

Now this piece I dedicate to you all my readers and followers, without you writing would make little sense to me. I can’t mention all the names but I want you all to know I appreciate. Let us share information; help each other with writing opportunities and contest notifications and fly higher this year.

It is New Year! And as they say New Year, New Life and New Resolution. I strongly encourage everyone to be diligent, to be good, to live in peace with fellow men and in all to work harder. It never late to start something new. Never fear to fall, for in falling you discover a new way of doing something. Have the courage to dare, to try and to dream. The future belongs to us all. Happy new and blessed 2016 to you all.

Oke- Iroegbu