Author: Oke Iroegbu

August says hi to you all
It says keep your ears close
Closer to his warm chest
And you shall know
How happy he is to meet you!

Have a swell Month and August 8th is my birth day!

There was a little bee
It always wore black and yellow
And was always happy
The bee love the row,

And the heat of the sun
The red petals of the Rose
The bobcats and the moon
And the dark haired moose

The bee would always smile
She was blessed, she had honey
She was lovely and mild
And all about her, she was funny

For the consciousness come thither to my weary
soul
The light shining upon the shades of my life
The hope and love burning above all, in my heart
I say Thanks Lord!

The Kiss

The touch of your warmth Standing besides your whole length The wealth I desire dwells in you You become the antidote to my cold The reason I stay all nights, awake I have become a poetic witch You’re the reason I could burn at the stake The people mustn’t know am an elf And let… Continue reading The Kiss

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And each night I come to this bed
To lay my weak and frail bones
Your thoughts flood my stray mind
With strength come from Heavens atone

1
The cool night turned a storm
The grey linings of the clouds
Wore out with the passing firmaments
The trees swirled in a wild dance
The fallen leaves lept up in joy
The imminent wind has come to play
To the tune of Natures fury
The wind, the rain and the lightning
2
The previous night it was calm
The hamlet was relaxed, alive
The winds wooed all, but was friendly
The men drank their dark ale
Slapping their thighs in laughter
As the village clown pops in to smile
The women sat in the small huts
Discussing, waiting for the men to come
To the warmth of the firelight
The children all huddled together
Telling tales of the days toil
It was just a moment of rest
And beautiful tranquility…
As the hamlet lay in the midst
Of heavy vegetation of trees and shrubs
3
The next night became strange
The wind had come with a new face
A fiery one, and he had come
With his friends, the rain and the lightning

After the long day
The storm has its way
But come what may
we lived to say

I shall look upon Thee
In the face of the rising sun
And on the evenings airy breeze

Your beauty inspires me
I sit staring into the air
I see you walk to me
Entangling me in your embrace
Doing this little laugh
I always grew fond of

My joy knows no limit
The fragrance of your Love
Smears my soft heart
And in the nights I drove
To come see you
And to your smiles anew

Though the day took its toil
On my weary face and body
Your warmth suits me to the soul
I lay wondering how it be, how lucky
The evenings we shall watch the Sun take its fare
And the nights I shall pull your hair

One day a black beetle
Sat amused at the sight
Of her neighbour from her tree shed
“Oh how awful you look”
She would say, grinning
“You werent like this
Some few months ago!”
“How do I look?”
The Corn asked blushing
“You look stalky, long and hairy
I dont like hairy guys!”
“Well we dont make
Ourselves do we fair lady?”
The Hairy Corn asked
She had decided to ignore him

But when the harvest had come
And the men move about picking
The Corn heads on the fields
And the tree was cut to let
The tractors move in
The little beetle saw how much
She had missed the hairy Corn

What is more beautiful than to build bridges
To bring two different worlds together
To bring in two nations to one embrace
To bring land over a wide spread of water?

When poetry came upon the Earth
There was but a very little
A clan full of self-hate
The lengths of the Earth grew brittle

And many foundations could”nt hold
The forests were full of heart wrenching thorns
The deserts with man hungry cactus, so bold
That the dreams of men lay forlorn

The Whistling pines stood ahead quiet
The nights are cold left with no music
The Owls sit with dreary eyes and wings so light
The sounds of the Earth are poisonous and toxic

Then poetry came crashing down to the Earth
Rolling past an Ice man who stood wondering
Crashing into the little Fir forests and came forth
It bloomed about, as sweet tunes kept coming

The twilights bring forth the joys of many
The memories of the floras and faunas, bees and nectar
The Owls, hedgehogs, the Pines and the pony
The water falls and the blue clouds wonder

Now poetry dwells with men
It becomes Gods gift to us all

One look of things here, now
The world would seem so absurd
The love I hid in my heart years back
Comes to play on my wild fancies

This is not my normal poetry per se, I wouldnt classify it as thus. i have had a clash somewhat with someone I really find fascinating and I have been able to learn.

The days work is done
The farmer return with smiles
The mother hold the little one
And welcome him who labor
The infant grips the fathers arm
Afraid not to let go
A lullaby from this voice he waits for

“All is well”
A tale of farmlore
The strength of the farmer
Gone beyond the hills
With might and courage
To the great virgin forests
And when the setting sun
Come sinking to her slumber
The farmers hat appears far off
Waving to the onlookers
As he march home with smiles
Love, hope and food

On the day that breaks forth
On the blue clouds up the skies
On the surprised stare of an infant
There is God everywhere

The call of the hills…
On a night dark as pitch

We stay listening to the swooshing trees

And the strange call up the hills…

A tornado of wind come surfing down

Pushing the brushes and woods apart

Sending both man, child and pets scrambling

Tall and strong wild palms bend double

Threatening to crush who dare stare

The dark clouds growl like a young lion

Shaking the breadths of the firmaments

The firmaments rumblings shook everyone

Wide eyed infants, the whistling pine and the Owl

The dogs bark and hide behind their kennels

Tethered farm animals shriek with fear

The cold came, and with such a surge!

It wooed the candle light

Which danced with such excitement

But the Rain never came

The Rain was locked out

Today was not his own day

A night as such as this

A windy tale to be told
An inspiration hewn down the hill
From up the dark firmaments of the night

From the hills of an African hamlet…

It becomes heavily cloudy
The Lord lets it rain
On the bosom of the rich and poor
The suns ray beat us all this while
Scorching she is, but our vegetables grow
In the heat of sleepless nights
The Nights calm airs come upon us
They give the warmth we desire
Sometimes the cripple on the road
Waves to the passing crowd, crying
“Please feed me sire, feed me ma-am”
Faces reddened on the Suns ire
The drops of tears and sweat, costless
The child barefooted, left alone,
Lost to the race ran by the world
Desiring a little comfort someday
Caught up in pain; raped, maimed
The old woman without her sight
Sitting under a huge baobab
Waiting for direction or hope?
Leaving her fate to the worlds vanity
The tears of infants brought to this world
Without a glimpse of what it shall be
To live on this world full of abandon
The end of love here proven always
Oh blessed Father Abraham!

Sometimes angels thread our pathways
And we do not know of it

The season has come
The mild sun has gone
The day is mild across the fields
The Corn is beheld

I found love in the air I breath
Love in the waving trees
Love in life, wild and close
Love in a friendly dogs stare
In the dark blue skies
I found love in your eyes
I found love loving
Love in giving
And love in being with Nature

Now I found love today! Guess what I had a swell time with Turbo, a little neighbors dog and a goat tethered by a tree side. I never met these two guys before, but I played all the time with them. I fed the goat with ripe guava fruits and Turbo was up, yanking his tail from side to side waiting to taste the fruit- he did lick it! Turbo would lay on the floor raise legs up and allow me scratch his fluffy hairs, I almost cried for this little impact. I wish these animals could read poetry! The other emotional time was when I was about to move out, Turbo followed and led the way, I had to plead for this little fellow to return home. I guess it”s time I spend more time with more of these creatures. It was just a beautiful experience.

15.10.08

If men were to create themselves
Then mirrors shall become gladiatory arenas
And the Earth, an epitome of cruelty

If ants could build skyscrapers
Though centuries it must take
Yet it would portray Natures wisdom

If crocodiles were to be executioners
In moments crooks become stories
But for criminals there would be none

If love and peace would reign on Earth
And together we conquer the deserts
What a place that shall be!

If poetry could make you smile
And when you read you find peace
And hope that someday all will be good

If love is all we seek
Then we must look to God Almighty
Him who made the world and the Universe

If I finally fall in love
I wouldnt always know what to do
I would just stare and smile all the time

Written in 2008 with some editing done before publishing. The reader can see how my voice has changed since then. I didnt even know if the Title was proper, but let”s do some justice to an old poem.

The Sunflower rests on the bark of the tree
Blushing on the fate of the lover bee
The strange buzzing love rant
As she wonders what he really wants

The fog lay blinding the way
The cloud, blue with lovely apparitions
Letting her bridegroom show the way
As the winds sang the adoration

The fragrance of your undying love
The sweet perfume on bossom
I sit, I admire you from the fireside
And I know how lucky I am to have you

The nights cloud is ripe
Full of Heavens dew to give
Rain drops on our faces to wipe
And to our beds warmth we cleave

Once out in the sunshine
We happen to see wonderful things
Things strange and old
Things new and rare

We feel the warmth
The scorch of the Sun
And the Heavens shower
On our light and fair skin

Dawn approaches and I will miss you
Your warmth, the heat and your embrace
Though the high skies had gone home
I shall wait to see your face again

Dreams are plans come true in the mind
… Set to manifest in the future
… Bond by strings of faith
Perseverance, courage and Determination

Then comes a taste from within
… Boiling up a bowlful of Ideas
… A spirit for clear values
A culture of modern Innovations

Inspirations are high and higher
… Sweeping through the souls depth
… Pushing the sweet cloaked records
And ending in good Aspirations

Come a day and days
… When ones intellect ability sours
… Rolling past a sunny and cloudy way
Bulging out a complete sense of Mentorship

And there in lifetimes struggle
… A glint of hope sprouts up
… As realities bump about
Paving a way for an Opportunity

A bold stare into the future
… Reveals all happy moments
… Of unrivalled progress and power
And a grip on keeping such Nurtured

Just like on your celebration date
… When rocketeers ply the sky route
… We can look at the smiling stars together
We lived to our dreams and Destiny

Now that is a Diamond.

When there was love
I saw the white clouds
Clear like the sweet spring
Leaping in joyful haste

Thoughts of you stay in me
The plays in my heart
The love I see in your eyes

The mornings are beautiful
We wake beside each other
The Golden sun shines on the curtains

And all shall be well

The King of Athens killed the son of Minos, King of Crete. In revenge, Minos conquered Athens and forced its King to send him seven youth and seven maidens every year as a tribute. These victims were then sent into a huge maze, or labyrinth on an island where they were devoured by a monster, half bull and half human, known as the Minotaur. A year came, and Theseus, son of the Athenian King bravely offered to form part of the doomed company. When he arrived in Crete, the daughter of Minos fell in love with him and gave him a sword and a piece of thread before he entered the maze. With the sword Theseus killed the Minotaur and with the thread he found his way back. The company was saved and the brave prince set sail to Greece.
Now Theseus had told his father, whose name was Aegeus that if he killed the Minotaur and found his way back he would hoist white sails as he came into port. But Theseus was so eager to arrive home that he forgot to do so. When Aegeus saw the black sails of the returning ships he thought his son was dead. In his grief the old King threw himself into the sea, which has ever since been called the Aegean Sea in memory of him.

When summers come around
The flowers bloom, red, pink
The clouds are proud with mild sun
Joy gives hope, the bridges a link
The green fields grow
We see the farmers sow

The summer leaves, taking the hue
Blowing all a hearty kiss
As her cold monstrous nephew
Comes taking the once a bliss
The nights turn cruel
As we eat from a bowl

The white clouds wear a scorn
The trees still lay a friend
As the Earths whiteness is done
And hearts are torn and broken
The moon stays all night
But the morrow it was a blight

The hills covered with snow
The cold eats the flesh
Man and beast lay low
And strange concoctions meshed
A bird flies over the blue cloud
And a smile grows; proud

The Earth gets colder
Lost on her way home
She stays a stranger
Fearing all mans shouts and booms
Praying that a bird flew up the heights
To live solemnly up, up the skies

So the sun rise quietly
Behind the hill in the hamlet
A smile spreads across the clan
Children, pets: dogs and cats
Boys with catapults and traps
Girls with baskets for water
Men gather, ready for a hunt
And the women make soup
So the day wakes the clan
And the clan makes the day

Say Hoolarliboe
And with words
We could make
Somethings beautiful

Cold morning
Monster weather
Heaven filters in
Her dew and airy lather
We stare, we shake
The cold kept us awake

Love flowed in this heart
Pure as in the waters
That flow on smooth rocks
And of a baby”s tears
Growing her first tooth
We watched it sprout
This is a lovely one, we thought
But then the suns scorch
Came to it, with fiery passion
The heat was on, unbearable
The love melted off, we cried
But then it went, gradually
Never to come back to us

I belong not to this enclave
Called the world

The rain falls softly
It falls light on me
And it minds not why
Amazed of such
One of uncertainty
Of the rain drops falling
On I who was a bloodline

Break the kola
Wave the palm frond
Call the wind, and …
And listen carefully
For the mother of the rain

Muster some courage
Stand with the dark clouds
The Storm comes
But the Storm must falter!

Now the rain falls on me
Soaking the dusts below
Clogging my footwear
On a carefree evening

The first breath I take
On such a day
Is one of freedom!

Now I will be your cook tonight
Tell me what you desire most
Anything, rice, pies or Turkish delight?

Now I will be a carpenter, why not?
To mend the boards and all things
Do good, get me my hammer and mallet

Now I will be a stone, nay a rock
You can call me the rock if you dont mind
And the heads of foes we would break

Now I desire to say a lullaby
Ba ba bo, ba ba bo, ba ba bo bo bo
Oh the rhymes I seem to forget dear lady…

Now a funny tale is told, thank God!
A tale teller I do dream to become
Tho I, a wild, fun, food-loving dude

I met an old man
Walking down the lane
Passing thru the barn
With a face, bold and stern
He dropped his stick
And I watched him stoop
His body rattled, weak
And down the steps, I took a hop
“Hello sire, lemme help you”
He looked up, a bright smile
“Oh, goodness, my son, bless you
i had been on the road for miles!”
The evening was cold
A storm was on its way
“Please do come inside
And I shall bake you some cake”
The face brightened the more
And thru the steps I led him
Taking our time as we head to the door
The sun sets, the clouds dim
And then the winds blew
Snow balls fall in drunk circles
And the road was full of white hue
I set the little brown kettle
And soon it was whistling
“Sire, you can stay the night”
I saw the hope in his eyes, dwindling
“Thanks for your hospitality”
He smiled again with some pain
The bulb up the ceiling kept shining
And I see glares of the old man
Take a side look, once and again
After tea and very hot shower
He lay on the bed, with his eyes on the ceiler
I sensed the unease, and made for the bed
“Sire, is anything the matter?”
He grunted and calmly shook his head
“Nah son, but I kept watching
This little light shining up there
I prefer to sleep on something
Afar off this little Sun up there!
I dont know what holds that”
He pointed to the bulb, carefully
Trying to let me see
Why the bed should be moved
Fearing should the hand
Holding the bulb decides to let go
What might become of him

I wonder how you sniff out my sugar
The trails to my little cupboard stands
The taste beckons to you,

And when I return from my issues, weary
I see you and your brethren
Mocking my ever precious sugar!

Now I dont know why
Why I am so fond of you
How my nights go by
And all I do, I think of you

When nights come
We run around
We play about
We sing to the Moon
And she blushes all the while

When the nights come
The crickets call out
From hidden “shriekadels”
A fortress of hope
Portraying the beauty of the night

When nights come
We see the bats fly
In haste to somewhere
We watch in awe
As they fly away

When nights come
It brings joy
And much laughter
And what a relieve
It is from the hot sun?

Flowers are natures gifts
They bloom, they are fine
And bees find nectar on them
The airs delight on their fragrance
Flowers reminds me of you
A tender but strong woman
One of Natures goddesses
One of Natures sweet flowers
One of Natures gifts to man

for UE
1.6.2015

The breadth of the Earth lay wet
But the Sun rises from the East
From vague sights and the mist

The dark jungles, cool and serene
But the Lions stride through the green
Fearing neither man or faun

A shriek of strength is heard up the skies
The Eagle soars high up, many many miles
Hopes are high, seething thru the times

The wind surfs the wild oceans
The Whales trumpet blows far beyond
And all tremble, sea-dwellers and stray crustaceans

Now if the Skies were conquered by a hopeful bird
And to the jungles a strong King is crowned
And to the waters, courage abound

Then this piece made for you
Brings to you a joint of these brothers: strength, hope and courage

Now take a very long deep breath
Cos something new is about to unfold
The pressure is about to start, you feel it
But you gat it all takes, believe it
The stars stand still this Mayful night
Expectations are high, the rains soft
Listen to your heart playing guitar strings
This is your moment, your day
And the Trinity bear witness
Today your Heaven sent blessings
Let Heaven make you a better person
And we all sitting about you, a greater clan!

Happy birthday honorable sire
May Gods blessings adorn you always

And a fine gift of May stays waiting
Find it when you visit home!

Now you are standing like a King
Like a Hermit crab with her pincers
Waving strange curvy branches above my head
Just in a slight, your leaves pat my hair
The hot sun searches for who to scorch
But under you all little fauna find solace
A citadel of cool breezes and life!

Now I recall this little sickly seed
Blown about in the light air
And frail, cast out to the open
And this seed became a tree
A king of the open air
A fortitude for the ants and bees
Dwelling up and down the branches
A solace for the birds
Singing heartily with all joy
A colony of mushrooms growing on the roots
Loving the trees hospitality and care
And for we hopeful humans
Taking warmth under the trees shed

#Savethetrees #treesarelife #greenerworld #alltreesaregoodguys #treesalltheway

The strange rains fall
Leaves fall in circles
With a back on the wall
I watch the Wrestlers debacle

Now the quietness falls on me
Solemn, it seems today
Chatting, what a boring day it be
For my home beckons far away

As it all came with the Word
A message, all bles-sed
Judas betrayed the Lord
And silver was cur-sed

God our tryst maker
Our lover and He who knows all
Chineke m, ke bi nigwe!
Maker of the Universe
He whom fetches water with a basket
To disgrace the bucket
He who whips us with one hand
And consoles us with the other
He who stills a raging sea
He who made the Kola nut
The King of all foods!
We come to You, our maker
We break the Kola nut
Before You, maker of the Kola
The food that never fills the stomach
But it is the King of all food!
We have the Cassava and the Yam
But the Kola is the King of all food
It is not eaten with Palm oil
It is not pounded on mortar
Nor stewed in a dish of porridge
It is not meshed in meat or fish
It stands alone, all alone
Like the Iroko in the forest!
It is not food for children
But this food is for men!
Our farms shall be fruitful
Our children more fruitful
Our streams shall have fish
And our forests shall have vegetables
The heat of the sun won’t scorch us to death
The pain of pregnant women
Shall become a joy in the morning
The clouds shall water our gardens
We shall eat of our sweat
Make us contented with what we have
You have given us the yam
You have also given us the knife to cut it

Learn the Igbo language here.

Let the moon shine when she must
Let the Sunshine when she must
Let the wind bring us good tidings
And let us see many smiles
On the faces of all in the hamlet
Let the Eagle perch
Let also the Kite perch
Any that forbids the other from perching
Let his wings break!
If one seeks downfall for us
Let such befall those people
Let not our enemies hostile light burn us
We shall have our children as the Hebrew women
Our children shall have their own
And our children’s children
We break the Kola!
Iri di nwata na okenye nma!

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Commentary.
I wrote this poem some time ago. I had found it necessary to revise and edit some lines of the piece, seeing that tradition is something dynamic. I seek to share a bit of my African culture. The Igbo is a South Eastern Nigerian tribe, an enterprising nation situated on the Niger Delta of Nigeria. As a growing kid some
decades ago, I have witnessed Igbo Kola breaking
traditions- a series of cultural rituals performed more like prayers. It’s typically used to welcome visitors, especially at festivities.

Notes.
Line 3: Chineke m, ke bi nigwe: Igbo language for My God who lives in Heaven.
Line 55: iri di nwata na okenye nma! Igbo for food good for both the young and elderly
Study Questions.
1. What are the figures of speech present in the poem?
2. Discuss the imagery.
3. Would you classify this as a traditional poem? Why?

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What beautiful things a farmer can be
The late night he dreams of his cattle
The other days dream was for the pigs
And always the sweet music of the farm
Comes to him as an embrace

What beautiful things a shepherd can do
At the call of the Rooster, early morning
He, off his bed jumps scantily cladded
Rushing towards the browned farmstead
To his bleating sheep and chicken

Then to the doors, he gladly leans to open
Praying silently to the welfare of the flock
Denying his own comfort and warmth
Greeting the flock one after the other
While they all watch on excitedly

His hands are smeared with dust and soot
He minds not the awful smell
The day will be fast gone, spent unwisely
If the Cows are not fast milked
And the Chickens eggs taken to safety

The moonlights are like childrens firecrackers
The nights are filled with sweet memories
For I once a small poultry tender
Will always return to my beds warmth
A very good dream to gather

What shall we say
Now at this fine moment of May
That we stand on this wet clay
Watching the Sun leave the day?

Now the leaves fall and fade
In the streams, we quietly wade
And to our past we solemnly bade
Welcoming the future which the Creator made

The dark clouds grow and gather
The wind starts her grim asunder
Along her path, she flings everything, people and
paper
For the owners to come find them later

How my heart jumps with joy “cos of you
Hued with the chimney best looks of soot
I dream, I work and in all I do
Hoping to become someone good and new!

Now after the rain, comes the happy Sun
The men throw the tent doors open
As a new day, free and healthy is born
And can anyone decipher what the good Lord has
done?

Poetry is like we humans, existing on earth. Each
poem is like one different man out of the billions. You
do not expect it to look exactly like the other. It has its
own uniqueness different from others. Poetry need
not be lengthy or very short, it must not be like
Shakespeares work, it must not be like Okigbos piece. A poem can come in subtle words, it can also come in
simple word texts. A poem can come in any form or
format; sonnet, lyrics, ballad, ode, poessay, poetale,
anything at all, which your style must make powerful,
consistent and unique. A word can be a poem, a
phrase, a sentence, two lines, three lines, anything! So don’t worry about how your poetry will look or trying
to “standardize” your poetry, create or invent your
style of writing poems and give it life as it deserves!