The Lover of my life

You’re the lover of my life
my other half
Since you came my way
I have beautiful days
I am so in love with you
I am not ashamed to



I am awoken to the sound
Of the lovely morning birds
Twittering behind the green tree
And the buzzing of the Bumblebee

The sun rises quietly
Her rays shine brightly
The clouds are blue
Painted by a fine hue

All about the bright skyline
The scouting hawks and doves whine
And under a trees shelter
All things are left to glitter

To the outside; the sunny firmaments
We take our washed and wet garments
As numerous birds sing
Flapping their colorful wings

Then this big town wakes
The chimneys that bakes
The tailors, the brewer
The farmer and the tanner



The nights may be dull…
But there are fresh morning airs
That this beautiful morning shares
It grows with the comely light
Letting all feel the suns’ warmth
As she rise from behind the cloud
Painting the land, bright and gold

The airs are for all;
The sun flower with its bright colors
And the steam boat with sailors,
Cruising across the deep blue sea
And the farmers on green rice paddies
Looking up now and then, to stretch
With their dark grey fanciful straw hat

And it comes upon all…
Fridays dawn with sweet smiles
With happiness and hopeful sighs,
Relieves and joyful moments
Saved from the stressful torment
Of work done during the past days
And we all say, “thank God its Friday!”


Musing: Cold Nights

Cold nights come sometimes
It brings to me memories
Which I thought I lost on the way
Nevertheless, I see who I become
From what I was many moments ago

Cold nights remind me of…
A tender boy I was
And when I cried for most things
It reminds me of when I was caring
And lost count of my self-care
When the days I write for love
But never was loved in return

But right now…
Things changed
I am no more a boy
I am no more a child
I think, I act
I dream, I believe
I hold my feelings
I hold my thoughts
I am now carefree
I am a man

But I still love
For if I loved once
I always will do…

For God has made it so
And thus, this part of me
I shall never let go


The Lifes’ Walk

Life is a walk, a journey
Never feel sorry
For your very existence
Is ordained by Divine Providence

The way thru the jungle is grassy
The mists upon the way, tricky
But we must march on
Until the days work is done

The way is full of serpents
Goal destroyers, lifes’ saints
The mists might cover ditches
But nine could be saved by a stitch

The winter comes and goes
With the summer we sow
The hawks are awake to scout
For food, anything- snakes, rats

Tell the famished to wake
We must pass this lifes’ lake
Tell the sluggard to be strong
For lifes’ walk is still long

Be patient with life
Never with her strife
But be even hopeful
Never be one of slothful

Your dreams are Beautiful
Make it happen, it is wonderful
Do your very best
And for God, let the rest

When the sun rise
Lifes’ heat comes to abide
But if you stay without work
You shall have none to feed on

Now arise and strife
Rise with the suns strafe
Be soiled with the morning dew
But never let anything get to you

Things can only get better for those who believe. There is light after the tunnel. Don’t be discouraged by the current state of things, let that be the encouragement you need. The main focus in life must be focus itself. Determination aids, believe in yourself so be more confident. Try a little this and that and at the very end of the day dream on and never ever give up.

From Okechukwu Iroegbu


Folk: The Palm wine tapper

When the palm wine tapper
Goes visiting his palm trees
He is very, very happy
And when he climbs a tree
He leans on his strong ropes
“Kpom Chiki! Kpom chiki!!”
He is very, very happy

The Palm wine is a natural beer derived from the Palm raffia trees. The beer is whitish in color and when mixed with water foams. I remember drinking a cupful. The tapper is normally depicted as a man on a straw hat with pants stretched down to his knees and perhaps on bare clothing such as a singlet.
I learnt the Igbo language when I was growing. I could recall those lyrics describing a palm wine tapper who is happy doing his work. I have penned down those wordings sang during the primary school days, and I find it funny recalling the moments we were asked to demonstrate.

“Kpom chiki…” Onomatopoiea, describes the sound of the tappers cutlass as it lands on the Raffia palm tree branches.

The Igbo folk song:

Mgbe oku ngwo gara n’ude
Obi na ato ya uto
Mgbe origoro na ngwo ya
O dabere na-ekete ya
Kpom chiki! Kpom chiki!!
Obi na ato ya uto


Musing: Four Poems of Oke’ Iroegbu

(i.) The Moon
The Moon is following me
And with her light I see
Wherever I walk she stalks
Behind my shadow she follows
And how she sweeps the land
Looking for me in the quiet clan

(ii.) Village Square
The nights dancing festival
Brings all, big and small
The farmer, the wine tapper
The cobbler and the dancer
A night of skewered meat
And one, were lovers meet

(iii.) The candle
See how her pretty light flickers
Throwing the light on my papers
Like a tongue of fire
She seeks to be admired
For even the wind has come
To rest and get some warm

(iv.) The dancer
The drums beat hard
And she strod forward
Swerving about like a mad maiden
In a big and crowded man-full den
Dancing to the cat-calls, the desires, the drunk men
And for all that cared to come watch her or listen

Oke’ Iroegbu


A son of the hamlet

I was born and bred in a big city
But nought interests me
More than a quiet life
Which the serene hamlets give

I was the king of the jungle
With maidservants and menservants
And a great sand house
Filled with sand-made yams
Commanding the mango fruit
To fall for my noon delight
And the skies turn dark blue
So that it would rain heavily

The moonlit nights are firecrackers
I sent them into the sky on a mission
To excite me with their noise and bangs
The streams flow as I dip my foot to stop her
She mocks my sovereignty, laughing heartily
The green forest full of trees are silent
I thought I did tell them to keep quiet!
I have eaten the Murringas’ seedlings
I have chopped up the Pumpkin skin
I even has slain snakes
Which infiltrated my farmland
I have climbed the Guava
And the mango and Cashew
I slayed a chipmunk
Which ate the fabrics in the house
Oh, I was a warrior!
Yes I was
I Swam the shallow rivers
And caught a big crab

Now here again I happen,
I happen upon these cities again
But the only true place I ever loved
Was this life which I desire when I am
A thousand miles away from township
And her strange faces of hustle bustle

The poet vividly paints a picture of his past times and experiences in the village and rural areas. The piece suggests just one thing: he truly adores a quiet and pastoral countryside lifestyle.


Musing: Stare into my eyes

I love to stare into your eyes
To let you know how special you are

I heave a sigh of relieve
Each time, tears of grieve
Dry from your pretty face

Never let go of sweet memories
Make them stay in your bossom
Enjoy all blossoming Summers
And the ice-cold Winters
But never let it fade away
Our moments, golden and sweet
Like the fast current of the spring
Leaping in joyful bounds;
Bouncing crystals of water
Rejoicing with their flowy brethren
Down to the end, where the waters fall

I see the glitter on your face
When the sun shine upon it
The stars light the dark clouds
You count the brighter ones first;
And the weak ones follow
When it rains and shines
It is a blessing, you are a blessing

You are my addiction
You are my God sent
You are my little song
Which sings in my heart

You play my hearts harps
You drown me in your love
The walls have ears indeed
They listen to our own tale
Your breath falls on me like
The sounds of the waterfalls

Gracefully you stride like the Cheetah
My eyes haven’t beheld anything better
And what more do I desire
But you that I lovely admire?


Folk: Night falls

The night fades slowly
Cloak of darkness fall
As the crickets prepare
For another night song
Bonfires lit the night
To keep the wild dogs off
The children set the stage
For a moon light folktale
And beneath the stars
The small hamlet waits


Folk: The sunny Forest

Once in a quiet sunny forest
The cruel Sun starved the Earth
And her little furry inhabitants
Of drinking water and comfort

The Owls & Wolves yawn in hunger
No one was able to decipher
Why the Sun brought her asunder
As all was thirsty for water

The forests dwellers hatched a plan
One of travelling to the village of men
Across hills & valleys thru strange land
And numerous tribes, peoples and clans

Such was the painful and heavy strife
For the bigger animals couldn’t thrive
The little animals ran for their dear lifes
From both the bigger animals and the Suns strafe


My Love Song

Glittering stars.
The night is alive
Airs of the day
Fireflies of the night
The grey moon;
For all had gathered
And to see this love
They have come

Waters rush in haste
Upon the little tide
Of the Stream
And her waterfalls
Sweet spring!
Pulling the stubborn fern
And the stray crabs

The cymbals clash
As drumsticks beat
The leather of the drum
The trumpets sound
Crickets of the wild
The silence of the heart
And the quietness of peace

Such was me
Such I longed to be,
Such was my love
Such was my passion
Such was a moment
Ever perceived as magic
Which must not last
For a thousand years
And such must be life

But I know…
Even as the beats go slowly
Yet my fine songs still sing
And to the night…
Were my memories clash
A fond goodbye I say


The Snail-cart

We are riding behind the snail cart
And now, we can see the wide world
Truely. As she is and not what it seem
With this speed my nation can see
All we had left behind and forgotten
All that slowed us and our speed bumps

Ah! We seem not to enjoy the ride anymore
Where are the gears and the grease sponges,
Where are the wheels and the extra tires?
The cart might never break though
But we can’t feel our legs
We can’t feel this slow ride


Musing: Song of a Farmer

I just picked a fruit
Beautiful. Reminds me of you
Grey eyes and elegant

There are many fruits
But this one is purely exotic
A fine and pretty sight

You are an amazing fruit
Like the yellow Sunflower
You, my boring days light

You have become my fruit
The sunshine after my dark
My friend; humble and sweet


The Jungle: West African Lion

In the depths of the Savannah
Where Nature prowls
Strays a solitary beast-
The King of the jungle

Deep growls rent the night
From one end of the world
To another it spreads
Striking horror to hearts
And to those who dare
To wander the unsafe night

The crickets quiz
But they are safe
Yet the night is unsafe
The struggle in the bush
Paw marks, hooves
And the blood stains
Happily smearing the grasses
And the brown earth
Tells it all
In the mild morning…


Africa’s poetale

Africa is a budding cocoon
A shy, fragile and cute butterfly
With shaky wings meant to fly
Living, in a desperate world

Africa is the gigantic tree
That grows by the side of the river
Shielding the lengths of the forests
And feeding the lifes around it

Africa is a mountain highly peaked
With white snows melting gracefully
And herds of Wildebeest grazing
Quietly down the grassy green plains

Africa is a mild song
That plays when the sunshine
At the beach down, down the road
With brown and white sand mixed

Africa is a dream
Waiting to happen
Hope of the generation
A scenic beauty of land and nature

Africa is my home
The hills of serene Ovim*
And the wild catfishes
That move about kingly and fearless

Africa is love
Community and family
Desires and joyful times
And the moonlight tales of the town

The Victoria Waterfalls is Africa
…The Veldt, the Savannah
…The Lake Chad and the River Niger
…The Lions and the Cheetah
…The Crocodiles and the Hippo
…The Elephants and the Rhino
…The Baobab and the Iroko
…The Zulu tribe and Igbo
…The Guinea and the Sahara
…The Oil Palm and the Shea
…The Orange and Nile River
…The Ashante and the Boer
…The Yankari reserve and the Serengeti
…The bushmens’ home and the Kalahari
…The amazing wine called mqobothi
…The Zebra and the Ostrich

Africa plays my fancy
And in such sweetness
I love my motherland

Ovim is in Nigeria and the poet hails from there.


Musing: Illusion

“I compare you to this month
Blessed April with blue eyes
Clear as the benevolent Cloud
Full of perfect but right actions
And a loving stormy mouth
Which glow in the quiet night
And with your imaginary wand
You stray thru my mind like an illusion”

I wrote a poem
But I forgot your name
I sang a song
But I can’t recall the tune
I want to draw a Palm tree
But there is none here to see

I want to paint a lady Monalisa
And smell the sweet Lavender
…to run the hills
And strengthen my will
…to see the Masai
And make them my war allies
…to frighten the Lions’ and Hyenas’
And run heartily across the Savannah

I want to dance with you
Somewhere, just me and you
I want to dream of you
And say all I desire anew


Another Tale of a Shepherd

Nothing compares to the sweet sleep
Of all good and hardworking shepherds
He retires with a fine and adorable smile
And to his bed of wool, he lays
Tuning into the local radio station
To listen to some old folk songs
Nodding almost silently to the rhythm
Smiling to the memories of the stressful day
And the little Lavender he found on the way

The night is quiet, warm and cosy
The moon is wearing a cute smiley
But to his lonely blanket he clings
As the duckling will to the Hens wings
And the air about is moist and fresh
This is his own warm and perfect nest
Thanks to the open wooden window
The light in the room is very low
And there is enough breeze to go around
Even the noisy brown crickets are ignored
The screeching of all strange insects-
The nomads of the quiet nights
Rent the air, disturbing companions
But the lonely Shepherd slept on
And soon a beautiful dream
One of fantasy; milk, honey a-swimming
Shall dawn upon his big and weary head
And so, in such times he laughs out aloud!


Heart by Obiajulu Nwodo

A bag of emotion
Trapped with a cord
of many wires

Beating, thuding
Hoarding Wickey the
foe of Goody

Bridge to life and
abode of diss and bliss
Who could eat his?

Okay, this is the second time Im publishing her. I find her work fascinating, the characters leaving and I think she has got messages to pass to the world. She is a good poet and friend and we do share ideas.


Musing: The wandering man

“When I retire after each days work is done
I don’t tell people my experiences though
But I have them, do I look like someone
Who is bothered? You would never know…”

Once I happened upon a man
Bearded. Long. Tall and bendy
At first, methought he lost his mind
But when he called out to my attention
I became curious and went closer
On my approach, he said comically
“You’re juth in time for a little thnack!
Do you care for some tweet, tweet nut”
Well, I was never to lose my cool easily
But now, it seemed I want to kick him
Or swing my fist, a whooping 360 degrees
Around his smiling goofy face… Sigh
He saw my apparition, so indifferent
He smiled and offered some boiled nuts
“No thanks” I refused his generosity
Hmmm, more than enough I bargained
“I have more where that came from”
He was now prodding farther
“And here comes twouble again” I said
To my own very hearing alone
“Would you like to have deenner instead!”
“You bawely know me sir,” I began
“Why do you offer me your food…?”

“Tinterely, I tit down here all day
Watching as people come and go
Like the windt come from the Touth
I travel to a far away country
But upon this road I came to revive
My legt and grab tome thnack!”
I nodded when he kept silent, waiting
“Now, do you know how I became
A tired and tore-footed wanderer?
I am trying to run away from
What people talk about me
But each day I run from town to town
I tee none of my troublers, but
They live quietly in mind, they do!
And to think you can ever get rid
Of what people talk about you is vain
You have to work on your mind
Condition it. Program it. Live it
Now my wandering hat brought me here
But nothing hat changed in my mind
Do not be like me, never run away…”
And so saying he raised his right hand up
So I could help him up. Pity
I thought about myself as I walked away

“And don’t let people influence
Your world with their wordt” he added
I had some understanding now
I knew for sure, knowledge could be found
Somewhere, anywhere; if you can just look



March bears the Winter on her back
And with one more nod to say bye
She takes her leave to the Earths’ borders

With this time of the heated sun
It is even time to introduce some
New flavors and dishes on the table

The sun rise and the rain falls
Brown earth stays everwhere
The greens love this amazing weather

The wild is left to her romance
Mother Nature washes her garments
On the waterfalls and sings aloud

From the window sides
The beauty of the clouds are seen
Hills curve in strange caricatures
Pretty birds sing from hideouts

The gardens bloom with live
Ants scramble about, flies, wasps
The sun shines above the trees
But in the shades Comfort dwells

The mornings burn with sweet desire
Nothing compares to Gods love come to man
Not even, the sweet scent of wheat fields
Or the sweet taste of fresh honeycombs

April is the month of food and fruits
Apples, Cherries, Jackfruits, Guavas, Berries,
Pawpaws, Oranges, Carrots and Soursops!
Fresh, yellow, round, red, blushing, ripened!