Author: Oke Iroegbu

Remind me of the Rain

Remind me of the Rain When it came crashing down Upon the peaceful and mild Earth Remind of the run… The dances we do in the storm The fun we had when we could Remind me of this natural shower The taste of water straight from Heaven Of the feeling of oneness with mother Nature

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Nature’s Ride

Crisscross, up and down Gross side, rise and fall The greens shine in the sun Blur skies when it will Sweet breezes, morning fragrances Upon the fine Clement weather, Daring birds plunge to catch the fishes In all, Nature is left in her wonder

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Dear June,

The sounds of time revealed me to your music
The touch of your soothing skin, strong but mild
I stand love lost, wandering in the forests wild
For you; my acquiantance, my love, my all

Your pretty grey eyes sing
Your beauty, sweetly divine
When all ends, when we win
With our backs to the setting sun

Tasty sops
Golden sunshine
Pretty flowers
Buzzing bees

All rent the words in me
They define your love I see

Times change but in your fine eyes I see
A million reasons proving you are true,
You, your sweet love has changed me
And in all I like to be I am given to you

When the humble evening quarreled with the travelling day
It turned out not to be wise, for the aftermath brought grim dismay

The aftermath, a heavy storm came riding on her way
She pulled stuff along, anything that went astray

Tearing, pushing against the curtained doors and windows
Flirting with the wind, so that the candlelights danced without care
First it seemed all will go upside down, like a swirling tornado
But as the storm came the streets got littered like the Lions lair

Windy airs ghost around, bound to the East or is it West?
Daring to tumble, to take on all that lay on her fiery path
The mildness of each burst of air, a reminder that the night is set
And that airs like the ones of the sea brought tidings as sooth

Now sweet breezes and mild whistling from the Pines nearby
Class out a host of unseen voices which sang a melodious lullaby

The sun set behind me
I see my shadows in front of me
It was just evening fast approaching
I was a traveler known to myself
Running from the world, living in my own

I walk the hard way, to come back for more another day
Though trying to cut of every dismay felt, I must say

No one cares, no one wants to share
Painting the dying world, yet no one says a word

So I hide myself in my confidence, one on Gods providence
Hoping to see the light, never to give up the fight

But I sat in the dark thinking I would become the Batman
When myself will humbly say, ”it is not possible good brother
You can’t make a difference sitting in one quiet spot”

So I stopped running…

1. Your Smile

Your smiles are wonderful, they tickle my soul
It takes me to heights of love, brings me to joy
When you smile, you remind me of the Rose
The parting of your red lips a memory to behold

In your beautiful warm smile I find an embrace
It spoke of speeches untold, reverred and blessed
And tells me more of you that I never have known
But in all, your smiles are exotic, pretty to the eyes

2. African nights

In the morning the mild golden sun rise above the huts and hills
Painting the corn fields yellow and making the streams shimmer
Upon the flowing rivers it glitters, till the dead end below a tree root
Big fishes stay ready to strafe up to pick insects off the tree barks

In the hamlets, dogs chased dogs, children played here and there
Men and boys went towards the great forests beyond the hills
To check hidden traps tucked away or tend to their farms needs
Girls pounded yams, making dishes with bush meat from the hunters

In the evenings, the children and elderly gather to tell night tales
When the moon light shine and the airs are soothingly mild
Everyone who wished to hear the tale of the night sit for it
And when it is told, even before the tales end many went snoring…
Now Africa

Your Love is like the sweet grape wine
The taste, a mixture of black liquid in steel
A banquet as one made when the Kings dine
And to explain it naturally, it is unreal

Midnights are caricatures of dreams
Like the quick mist upon the morning
Licking the forest tree lines and city skylines
Sometimes it stands like a smoke phantom with a dagger
And mouth wide agape as like a dying strangled cockerel

Sometimes they come airy, with mild words, softer
Maybe with some rain, which makes all even milder
The lullabies play on the roof top, the rain drums

It celebrate the nights quietness, the rain and her wind
And mostly, to the fatigued and snoring worker,
Who in the rains benevolence, a solace find

” Poetry haunts my soul
Poetry flies thru the thickets,
On a hot desert drive
Daring the mamba to come dance
With the cunny hawks hovering the sky”

1.
Masked tribesmen bother the Lions sleep, huuthuut- hututu
Down the thickets of the bushland strange music of the birds play

They sing, they say…

Wai-oo, wai-oo take me home, fly away

2.
Songs of happy children, rendition of a thousand bullfrogs
The choir of Natures solemnity, grace the quiet darkness

Meanwhile the shepherds sleep, the nights waste

Man, flora, fauna and spirits, all try to rest

3.
To lands tucked away in far places, where the cultures differ
Stay ladies who dance with hands on their slim waists

They swirl, they turn, all in fine haste

To make fun, they laugh at the mens restlessness…

Reach my hands
Help me stand firm
Draw me close to Your embrace
Let me see the beauty of Yout Love

Teach my heart
To do the needful
To slay not time in any way
But to master the seasons of wealth

Touch my words
That I may speak only wisdom
Let my lips heal, paint love, draw warmth to all
Let my speech dry the tears of the broken

Take my feet to places,
Where the sands are gold
That I may behold beautiful lands
And savor the strength of the young Cheetah

Give me strength, give me…
Trust me with Your power
That I may soar above the skies
Let me be what Your Love is

Now the tree leaves fall before us, dancing with the wind they somersault
Time flies, memories fade, goodness lives and the day goes spent

The tree leaves fall beside us, with the wind she danced, possessed, carefree
While her brethren watched her swirl about, with the flirty wind on the tree

The tree house the grey squirrels whose work is to chew the tree fruits
Up the branches so high, they made their citadel, their home, a fort

The tarred pathway is full of tree leaves, close movement throw them dancing up and down
And when there is peace, they lay quiet and once more there is tranquility on the lawn

The flirty wind blows about, the fallen leaves she mildly hunt
Meanwhile the sun shine brightly while the tree leaves fall quietly

My heart dances…

Why it rejoices, I knew little
Love, so heart warming,
Love, so unconditional,
Precise, Concrete
Concise, Complete

Meanwhile thoughts of it
Listened to the heart
As it played out a beat
Music so strange, so sweet

My heart rent drums, ke-di-ke
And letting my music fade away

Quietly the night simmer away
like the puff on a smokers cigarette
Darkness envelop the dying day
for the golden sun was long set

Hot are the airs that blow this evening
and quietly from my little closet
My ears lay low, humbly listening
to the barking dogs on the city outskirt

Night birds, insects patrol the candle light
Upon the candle stand they make a fort
Dancing heartily, happily before my sight
Behind the wall, a shadow lay bent

Most times quiet times reveal a lot
Beautiful dreams and hopeful thoughts
Love in silence of words and acts, but
in these all, the mind searches and is taught

Night falls
Sleep calls

My candle light dance, hovering madly before me
Careless of its nakedness, careless of her waywardness
Yet there was very little wind here, rather a swift breeze
Coming now and then, but the candle light danced

The corner of the room stood, darkened behind me
My silhouette forming a union with the dark
And the night one of quiet loneliness, resourcefulness

Now the pen dance with the wind and candle light
The papers are bleeding with ink, fine and some obscure
Underwhelmed with the burden of a switching breeze
And the candle light which knew little but dance…

And so on… So the night is quiet but the pen aint!

Another evening, another night
The day is gone fast asleep
All about is darkness, moonless
Safe from stars, up and white
Which shone upon the sheep
And upon the Shepherds stress

Always, it is airy in the country
The folklore is the peoples joy
Now and then, the bard came
For boys and girls, it was night of stories
To the children, a night with playful toys
And in the mornings, all will never be the same

The shepherd lay quietly on a soft bed of feathers
Counting the stars that glitter before his eyes
Listening to the sound of the dancing wind
And to the snore of his neighnor, the oat farmer
He lets the queer lullaby play, finding a smile
For soon, a touch of sleep came descending

1 Poetry

Records; minutes of past and fun memories flood in, sad and happy
Creating; nothing but me again and again, I rather be me still
Poetry: one beautiful happy thing that gladdens me
It dances in my soul, it is much my own, my freewill

2 Walk in my Dreams
Yes, you told me you would be fast asleep, thinking of me;
‘Keep your minds free, I might be found pacing your dreams’
In my empty thoughts we walked the beaches of ecstacy
And when the tides rise and fall,
I was awake in your arms

3 My Tree House Library
Yet from my lonely tree house library, came a song and a poem
Much books all night and when I wake, I find the books my pillow
The songs of bright colored birds a welcome from a nights storm
And the blessed morning a gift each time I stare thru the window

Sweet breezes, heavens ride
to and fro, home and wild
By the town and countryside
surge of fresh air, quick, mild

Sweet breezes, soaring scentless
like the fair English countess
Immaculately dressed, spotless
dancing, joyful- happily remorseless

Yells, cries of children disturb the nights silence
In the moonlight they dance, they play in the distance

Casting shadows upon the lonely tree’d pathway
Tumbling on sands, caring not for neither man nor scorpion
They make figures, people and tall castles of clay
Happily they yell, desiring nothing under the queer moon

Meanwhile the wind blow, the mosquitoes flee
Wild trees swerve like a mad reggae dancer
Children noises mix with the dancing windy trees
As the young night went black and darker

**
A slope of rounded hills
Black against the horizon
Threatening the sun with its fierce thrust
With thin clouds streaking across the sky
**

The clouds underbellies glow reddish hue
The morning warmth fighting the heady moon
Wide plains stretched, savannah grass paradise
Sometimes lonely trees stand with the yellow grass

Ancient, raw, the scattered lights slowly gather together
The city below, and the hills standing guard like a soldier
Listen now, the Tsetse may disturb mornings peace
But the heat will come soon with her perfect grease
The road are shaded by thick groves of Eucalyptus and Vines
And the human settlement; houses, huts are all intertwined

Smell of ripe fruit romance the market ways
Tomatoes gutted, grapes squashed on the clay
And when the hills let the sun quietly rise above them
It was gold- unexplainable, like the lifecycle of a worm

Again, like the humble Queen risen from a sleep
Came the sun from the lands of the unknown deep
Smiling at the ones she had left to her solitary slumber
She leaves all, fauna, flora to a graceful wonder

Now there is light, the brown Earth bright
And on all things old, the sun shines her gold

Come closer, come hear the song I must sing this night
Come let us sit under the mango, let us enjoy the moon light,
The sweet breeze that seem like that of the quiet riversides
Which flows freely, running in peaceful haste thru the wild

The cold day took her toil on our strength
But the night fire hands us some warmth
Lean back, let me pull your hairs again
Close your eyes now and just listen

Listen to my croaky voice sing of the cute little Nightingale,
And of the Rose flower which blushed for the Blue whale
Nothing paints more pictures but a pretty imagination
Now close your eyes, imagine me singing an old song

”Once upon a time…!” that must be the sound of sleep
Alas, do not retire yet, my stories are a generous heap
The tales which you fancy most when the moon is half
And the song where the moon got eaten by the tall giraffe

It is a Good Night Africa!
You have a wonderful night rest too!

Colors are exotic, beautiful when they are seen and ‘felt’
Shadows- shades, the blue skies and the sun when she set
Wandering bees, yellow and black buzzing about
The black wasp making holes by the wood post

Camels stand like mad men who either forgot themselves or their ways
On the sands, come views of mixed soft silt and reddish clay
The dungs of stray animals, the boar which found solace in waters lay
All constituting strange hues, so also are the beautiful or hateful words we say

The light, solemn sweet aura of the oceans blue
As the white waves rise and fall into the bluish hue
See the wheat fields, the sun flowers happy gold
When cut and in dark evenings of the market be sold

Trains horn and cockcroach thru hidden grey tunnels and hills
The farmers gather the browned seeds into the huge farm mill
And all these while the memories of colors pass on a sweet feel
Never to be forgotten, but for moments which stand not to be seen

Harbinger of Sahara news, king of the queer dust I hail you
Your entourage of heavy sand storms and dunes
Display her works of art on our glass windows and faces
You give us wonderful attire, a ghostly look

We wonder, we make guesses of why you love the dust
She paints everything; flowers, careless food, the pond
And worst of all, the innocent faces we carry about
But when your strength goes, we have air void of your asunder

The feet crack, the lips go extremely dry
No one knows your origin, even the nomads
The camels, the horses smell you and grunts hard
And when your dust meets our water, it gives another scent

Where the rivers flow, you carry your dust to
So if we escaped from your the city’s airy dust
We run into the embrace of the river mudded clay
Trees stand aghast, confused of what is becoming

But alas, you come and go
You and your cruel crew
So where next are you going to,
And why must you paint us so?

Bent, folded I returned to my own self
Baking in the euphoria of failed love itself
Shivers accompany thoughts, rented worries
Revived just to welcome the sad, old self
Moments are lost when smiles were love,
When winks, faces said how much I cared

Transform me back, if I have no soul at all
Let the toils of failed love refresh my hopes
Let me live to love without remorse

Shadows
Fall behind the mud huts
They paint soulful images,
Like the web tent of a black widow
Hanging like a carefree skeleton
And the brown stains from hands
Old or fresh which design the walls

Silhouettes
Fall behind the palm trees
They draw strange figures,
One like the village masquerade
which dance heartily on happy festivals
The other like the mad man
who travelled all about the hamlet

The sun travel home after the days work
And all we have become is an airy evening

Sold to the warm white clouds and suns heat,
To the golden hue, shared across the firmaments
Across the fields where grows the yellow wheat
Came a new born, a new beginning, a new month
To the East and West, to the North and the South
It came, striving, growing, standing, blest

February retells stories of Apple trees stuck in Pine forests
And the tales of the strange night when it is all cold and dark
While the golden sun shine upon all, the greens find it exciting
The stray sugar ants and millipedes find it irritating

But here bespeak to a lovely month of flowers
and purple and of lands which live under the sun

A Muse: When morning comes

When morning came Fresh was the flowers smell Through the window it came And over the little well That sit lonely each day To where my body lay When the morning came The clouds woke from sleep And the sun doing the same Dew dance off, early birds sip Fine pockets of white Heavens own… Continue reading A Muse: When morning comes

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The song on my lips are ones of rejoicing and dancing
Come don’t mind the sand storm that bother our gathering

My voice is not enough to sing, come join me make merry
See the green fields and fine birds have no sorrow, no worries

Smile the whole world waits to hear your tale
Do not withhold it, let it out it is surely well

The wind of stress play with us in the mornings
But, kei! We have the sunless, heatless evenings!

We can stay on the field or under the Cashew tree
Wait now, listen; you mean everything to me

Sanjuma*

Commentary.
Initially I was trying to add more Hausa to the lyrics, but I am still learning the language and so far so good though. Perhaps some day I will be able to write an all out Hausa poem as I did for the Igbo. Another boost to the pen I humbly say! Have fun…

Ina murna: ‘I am happy’ in Hausa language. The Hausa is tribe of Northern Nigeria with several unique tradition and customs.

Sanjuma*: ‘Good bye’

My Muse: The Sun

Why the sun travels with me I do not know, Trying to hide from her prove futile each time Yet I miss the warmth when it is dark and evening The gold upon the clouds are her handiwork The dust smeared greens are her art piece The tree leaves fall gayly, quietly on the winds… Continue reading My Muse: The Sun

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the tryst

“Come my tryst, come my lover…” I made you my love, and it come in form of a rare bead Which you wear in the heart of your hearts Where memories fall and rise, play and replay in ecstacy My own joy is not built upon your beautiful face, I am graced to have a… Continue reading the tryst

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Lafia

Dusts, sand, white clouds and falcons Hawkers, sellers, buyers and people I see the grin on your face, One print of queer grace When you say ‘Sanu*…’ ‘And how do you do?’ The days are hot here So we try to walk bare Chilled water feel our gullet And to some balance we set The… Continue reading Lafia

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I am Nigeria

You have smiles on your face Reminds me of my beloved siblings No need to see you thru your race You are you; one, unique and winning Igbo kwenu! Kedu, olee, how do you do? Come in, have a sit, taste this dish You come in peace, we surely know To you, all good things… Continue reading I am Nigeria

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sunset, evening

Clouds gather above Casting shadowy troves Red skies like the wine An evening, a pretty sign The lonely tree stand at ease Like a fiery dog free of her leash She swerves with the clouds songs She enjoys the love, the attention The hills grow up to meet the sun Shades grow behind huts and… Continue reading sunset, evening

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muse: act now

See the leaves fall before our eyes While the chimneys puff our smoke Should they all fall before we see? The wind blow hotter airs And the sharks sail closer to us Are they scared or want food? The snail shells are broken They sleep longer, they die earlier Soon the butterflies and bees vanish… Continue reading muse: act now

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Merry Christmas

This is the season of love Let the season bring you a load of Heavens goodness Let happiness and smiles accompany your blessedness I wish you all a merry christmas and a prosperous new year

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Muse: Under the Guava

The Guava sheds our little playground from the scorching sun The flowers fall on our heads and gave the look of a fine bride There is a family of brown green mantis on the leaves of the Guava Savoring the sweet fragrance of the flower and the open air The Guava is our citadel, it… Continue reading Muse: Under the Guava

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Spare Poem

I fall back to my bed, each night with hope on my breast Twinkle became the blinking of stars up the skies When the cold that burn all peoples chunk of fat And the sight of the solemn clouds are manna to the eyes The grim colors of the falling darkness gather Moths, ants, earwigs,… Continue reading Spare Poem

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Sweet and wonderful are smell of dry air in the breezy and solitary open
LIke that of bread soaked in margarine, quasi burned in the oven

The taste is remindful of romantic acquiantances hewn to fields of Roses
Stretched afar, to where the lands open to other lands of colors and scents

The fineness of delicious scents, nose-alluring grow with the passing wind
The signal it passes undiluted, without mix of any kind, unpurified

Sometimes these scents come from the forsaken wild,
From dusts, pushed about by the browned roadside

Lonely nights come with these memories of pretty smells
Designed, packaged and yet revealed by Nature to all

It’s the month of icing cold
The freezing of whole rivers
and circular fall of tree leaves

When the sun rise higher in the clouds
The lands glow with her amazing heat

The cold and heat; Decembers hallmark

Star light
But thousand miles away from home
They glitter still with their amazing innocence

Come on, dear glittering stars…
You wouldn’t know I am not at home, would you?

There are many glittering stars out tonight
Out they come, like a parade of great might
Come behold this exotic and pretty sight
Made from friendly stars which give fine light!

Paint a land where crisscrossing figures
fall before hungry happy eyes
Tell of place where the skies see seizures
without which there are no sighs

Cut the soil, cut some mud
Mold the mud into some hill
Place the hill on the cut soil
And watch a quiet town
Grow beneath the hills shelter

Cut some paper, mold a bird
Cut some thread of seeds
Give the bird life and let her
Sow the seeds upon the hills mud
And watch it all grow to a forest

Paint some white cones, cut some streams
Cut the ever falling balls of snow
Give it life, let the snow flakes plague the hill
Let the town feel the icy grip of the cold
And prepare to undo and redo this all again

Fireflies

Twinkle… There are wings on the air On a dark, very dark night Twinkle… But the wings move from their lairs Glowing colors hued black and white Twinkle… The appearance seldom come so rare Twinkling into the gravely dark night Twinkle… The night is cold and dark, the night is bare But if you watch,… Continue reading Fireflies

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The Wind

You walk against the fast wind, your hair fall beside your haste Down it rolls, flowing with the strong wind down your waist All these while the swift wind and your fine hair go about their romance

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Musing: Setting sun

1. The setting sun reminds me of many things Some nice, some exciting, some make me laugh And others leave me sobbing at the thought But making me to laugh or leaving me to sob I find times defined in those memories, not me   2. Twilight comes with even finer airs, playing On fantasies that… Continue reading Musing: Setting sun

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When we play with the wor(l)ds

Let us say there are some mystery in the Earths misery Fake hysteria overshadow Natures artless history Yet with the blazing sun come our sober pun Savaging the dying Earth: stay or run, but we cant run And when we look to the South, there is strive To the helpless North, there is a hungry drought;… Continue reading When we play with the wor(l)ds

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