Africa culture/tradition folklore Lessons from Experiences lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry Series

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Ever searching for the wor(l)d…

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Amuse: Three Things

Three things still baffles me
A crab, walking like an undecided drunk, a tip to the left
And then like a call back to his senses, a step to his right
A herd of goats and sheep, giving a familiar stare,
One might think they knew him from somewhere
An ant, very wise to store for the winter
But hungry enough to die by melting sugar


Tree Leaves Falling

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


A Dying World

Dear Diary

there is too much pain in the world
I do not believe everyone is evil, no
In the midst of the crowd, there are very good people
but they are very quiet and maybe scared
they let the sick and evil ones destroy the world
the world grows sick with each passing day
but hey! Nobody gives a damn, I am alone in this
seems I see this world radically, but I am not wrong atleast
there are devastating wars in the Arab world
see green patches turn black with pollution
and whole species going extinct in a twinkle
people suffer lack of water and medical care
in an advanced age of science, technology and (war!)
infants and children die of curable diseases
we buy feed automobiles fuel made from biogas
and yet there is no food! Oh God!
rivers that we grew up with turn around to flood our homes
driving us away from were we call home
torture, rape, hate and all that degrades man is common
we watch Teevee while the world spin to disaster
nothing is the same anymore…
Love is slowly filtering away…
To somewhere, maybe another planet
I do not believe everyone is happy or (sad)
Reason being that I am a little bit in between
the strain of the dying world and human carelessness
make me sad, the love of God Almighty give me hope

I am pained and unhappy with all these happenings
I hope one day mankind will find love for one another…



The tears of dying children
Is the lullaby of gunships
The desert is smeared with
Grease, oil and human blood
The days turn to grieving nights
But the world knew no sanity
And those who fight in the fields
Humanity eludes,
Life is a little less than a chickens
And yet we walk free across the border
Where is this United Nations, eh?
Are we waiting for the fire
To torch the globe before we wake?

Aleppo and Damascus is on fire…
Jerusalem is not safe, so is Nice
We lack potable water in Africa
And thugs are fighting in the Sudan!
The blood wasted on the desert
Of Libya and everywhere cries out
No justice, the law has failed us
Give me peace, take your war horse
We cry to God, “Oh Lord help me, save me”
But we look to our neighbor with deceit
Each day men travel underworld
Without their will they forcefully go
Would there be an army waiting,
An army to rise from hate of love
When all human kind is gone finally?
What is the cost of ‘peaceful’ love
If the cost of a gun and oil barrel is dear?

The tentacles of terror spread
Everyday the world goes dark
Why we build war machines,
The glaciers melt somewhere
The deserts take our arable lands
The Earth goes blank with each day
Yet five powers kept watching

Will there be another day
To see another bomb explode?
When shall we be freed men?
Stop this Syrian war right now!


Natures Music

“I hear the strong sound of drums
Come from lands far, far away
Music living up the hills and slums
Down to the seaside by the bay”

The call of the birds flying home
As Darkness unfolds her cloak on the Earth
The choir of frogs across the little pond
Singing and croaking out their hearts
The sweet wind that blows hard
When the clouds thunder and rain
Victoria Lake and her lively waterfalls
With Natures own strings and bows
The wailing of Mangabeys and Partridges
In the African wilderness of the Veldt
Sahara in the sun and her sand storms
The laugh of the Hyena and drunk men
And the whistling of the Pine trees
On romantic and strongly airy nights

Mother Nature plays her strange music
And she plays for those who care to listen


A Poets Tale

Have you seen the sun set over the dark clouds
Behind the lonely traveller marching up the hilly mounds?
The evening sets in, covering all the light living on Earth
It was about time for, moon-lit tales and screeching crickets

The wind surge, we are left to feel it
The birds fly away, as the sun set
The clouds are dark, beckoning to a storm
And the people haste about bringing all the drums

The hopes live on, the days gone past,
I sit musing, letting reason come over wit
Like Ali Baba calling out to his forty men
The love I have for you I feel deep within



for Uwakmfon Ebong

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


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


Poetale: Storm

It was evening
In a little hamlet
The skies were dark
With all frowning grey clouds
Gathering together for a talk
But always when they do gather
It only leads to mayhem
And total disaster
Because they would never agree
To any discussed matter
It all began with the rain
Accompanied by a very strong wind
The rains stayed for a while
Letting the breezes flow through
Pulling trees, wringing the brushes
To and fro, the foot path
Then shouts rang out
From here and there, fleeing rooftops
The clouds darkened the more
And the pines sang out loud
A strange cry from the skies
A crack of the thunder
And his cousin, the lightning
Taking obscure pictures
Of his siblings toil
The wind blew up the sands
Into curious eyes, grinning
As she push all about
Bullying all daring to stand on her way
Kissing the window panes
Playing a drum of rains
On the rooftop of houses
Blowing out smoking chimneys
The dark clouds conceal
All raindrops waiting to jump
To come see the green Earth
The noises behind those homes
As the storm shakes thru the forests
Birds hide in cracks everywhere
Huts, rocks and tree barks
The night was chilled
There was nothing up the skies
But dark clouds and its armoury of rain
Another mother Natures pranks

Oiroegbu Halls


The Dance

The tree shields many things
It shields the squirrels
It shields the birds
And all that loves to see us dance

It shields you
It shields me
It shields the little dance we do
On moonlight nights
With shadows cast on the sands

It shields you
It shields we
When all is seated on the sands
And Granny comes walking to us
With her smiling pouted mouth
To tell us of the origin of the Earth
And how the Giraffe ate the moon half

I love the tree
I love the tales
I love the little dance we do

Oiroegbu Halls


Deceptive pursuits

As we walk the void called life
Wandering for things unknown
Walking on deep darkness,
Seeking much that others sought
Blending into all strange hues
Of hate, intolerance and wrath
Understanding no religion, believing in bloodshed
Fighting for some deity
Maiming, killing, bombing
And asking all questions why
Staying hard from stepping on toes
Getting muddled as the days goes by
Frustrations, blames and technology
Trying to fill the voids
Created by other souls
Taking anothers bull by the horn
Taking anothers bullet, willingly
Risking all ever labored for
All beautiful memories ever known
For pork in the fields
So even the green fields are black and red
With much grease and blood
As more wander for things unknown
Walking on deep darkness
On a very bright morning
With all Natures beauty calling

Dedicated to all inquisitive souls, all innocent people, kids, adults, youths, teens drawn to violence through deceptions and political propagandas caused by corrupt leaders in the world. I wish love could return and all manner of evil vanquished from Earths surface.


The Warmth of Life

To my love
My hearts desire

My heart dances when it rains
But the heat, the warmth I miss
The trees wave all about the land
And the white sea water rush-
All foaming towards the earths frontier
How pretty they are,
How perfectly made

The network of blue clouds
Passing in a solitary march
Across the vast horizon
Pulling the winds with them
Hanging a shadow above us
Giving warmth, hope and love

Look at the sun when mild
Stare at the lake, solemn
Walk through the yellow fields of Wheat
On a valley, built by the rocks
Let the young calves nibble hay from your palms
And feel Natures awesomeness

If the Golden sun stays
And all morning we stand
At the windows side
Wishing and praying for it
All believing that the sun rises quick
Bringing all life back to its feet
And the cold melting away from the earth

The warmth of life
Giving to us by God

Oiroegbu Halls


Maker of Poetry

Now poetry had it all
A way of life, dreams and fancy
When we wake, it sings
At bedtime it comes around
In the fields, in the airs
On the back of the Camels
On automobiles on the streets
It is on the food we eat
Can you hear it pray ‘eat me?’
The fishes knows about it
The ants do too
The Orange color is it
The Sky cut in blue and white bits
A song from the Scottish pipe
A strange lifestyle, though awesome
The Streams running hastily over pebbles
The Ducks sitting quietly over a quiet pond
The dark nights and the fiery growls of Wolves
The green woodlands of the Earth
The blue Whales horn
A crickets screech of cold
A dancing happy child
Oh, even a sad moan
But poetry tells it all
The roar of the Lionesses
Prowling the Veldt
Touregs, culture and humanity
A strong rendition, a choirs
A thought, a drawing, a painted one
The Zulu chant of victory
Over brewed mqobothi
Oh poetry was made for all!
The seeds of the Oil Bean
Dance about during the sky-fall
An Iroko on her prime length
Lets her branches romance the Cloud
The infants clog about the clay soil
The winds that traverses the Earth
The minute lifes in the Forests
The talkative green feathered parrot
Lakes serene tales and songs
Trees, of ancient poets
Waterfalls obscure voices
The Saharas whistling wind
Poetry knows it all
It is in everyone
Instrumentals play in my head
A poem thankful to God
Maker of man, Nature and poetry


A Night with a Cricket

I laid my bones to rest
A quiet night, dark and solemn
A wild thought swept thru me
But I was to be awake
Cos I heard it
I heard the screech
A cold one, not far from me
I listened
Nothing else
A neighbors cough at the next flat bothered it
It stayed for a while…

Another screech
I lay quietly to hear it

‘Ihttttcchh, what a panful world
A disturbed place, a shattered life
They are taking all, yeah they are
No more trees, no more shrubs
No more little inhabitants of those vegetations
Just dark places
Hotter days and nights
And they all sit
Clapping for themselves!’

I could feel the pain
I could touch it
Living in a treeless society
Got me shrugging
But then, dear me
Forget not our dear dying Earth.

Dedicated to those who genuinely fight to keep the Earth from dying and to all trees and shrubs in the forests, everywhere, anywhere.

Oiroegbu Halls


Some Tales of The WildWoods

Once upon a Time
It was winter
And a night of bitter cold
The snow lay thick upon the ground
And upon the branches of the trees
Two Woodcutters made their way home
And when they came to the Mountain
She was hanging motionless in the air
For the Ice King had kissed her
So cold was it that evening
That the animals and birds
Knew not what to make of it
‘Ugh!’ snarled the Wolf
As he limped through the brushwood
With his tail between his legs
‘This is perfectly monstrous weather!
Why doesn’t the Government look to it?’
‘Weet, weet, weet! Twittered the crickets
‘The old Earth is dead
And she is laid out in her white shroud’
‘The Earth is going to be married
And this is her bridal dress’
The Turtle doves whispered
Their little pink feet were quite frost bitten
But they felt it was their duty
To say something romantic about the
‘Nonsense’ the Wolf growled
‘I tell you it is all the fault
Of the Government
And if you don’t believe me
I shall eat you’
The wolf had a thoroughly practical mind
‘Well for my own part’
Said the philosophical Woodpecker
I don’t care an atomic theory for explanations
If a thing is so, it is so
And at present it is terribly cold’

Notes: The poem is self explanatory. Some weather conditions can be extreme.

Study Questions:
1. Comment on the Figures of Speech used here.

2. Do you think that the Wolfs comments were made out of ignorance and selfishness?