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The Poem of a Shepherd

I will tell you about my Jehovah,
My beautiful encounters with Him
His creations that made me wonder
With each passing day and dream

The tall Red Pine blossom
When there is such a wild-wind
It shakes down leaves for the ‘groom’
Twisting, circling as they fall down

Stand at the zenith of the hills
See the green lowlands and plains
Without pillars, as they rise and fall
And this, no physician can explain

The sun light paints the land
With her rising awesomeness
She colors all life, gold
A hue bringing great happiness

I am amazed in the morning
For it brings abundant joy
To people that are mourning
And to all, He makes rejoice

He sends the heavy night rains
To calm the laborers daily toil
And fills pots with abundance,
The waters make moist the soil

I see Him in the waking of the sun
And when the mist rise up the cloud,
On dew waking early in the morning
And the streams that run Eastward

His Love is like the surging wind
None can stand on its way
The waterfalls tell of these words
Which the psalmists sing and say

He had made storm in the desert
And water has come from dunes
He had consoled the souls, hurt
And made Kings from common men

The strange clouds pass by
But the Love of God stays;
Tarry a little more, for His light
Must surely come some day

I am left to wonder alone
The awesome power of my Creator
He who made the rain and the snow
And the earth a living sculpture

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The Clouds gather

The clouds gather
And in her wake
The evening turned black
Clouds gather above the sky
As light showers try to descend,
The showers fall on the clay
As beautiful humid smell arise

The clouds gather
Above the little town
She wakes the lightning
And all evening
The lightning took shots
Of the warm wetlands
Sending a cold surge of air
Flinging stray papers and silt
And making dresses dance
But all men must retire
For fear of the coming storm
And the asunder it brings

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Oke Iroegbu’s Shepherds Tale

(1)
Is it not a great night to write?
What beats our lovely imagination
When stars fall with colors bright
Or as a ninja-faced Soy bean sprout?

(2)
The nights are like firecrackers
Blossoming into beautiful stars
When they hit the soft sky
Shedding light shots of hues
They remind a tired shepherd
Of the days walk with the sheep
And when the cold night comes
Before he sets his head upon a pillow
He shoves some words on paper
Making poetry of his wandering
Counting green trees he passed by
The mistletoes, the Teak and the Sycamore
The little mysteries of the woods and her lores
And when he does lay to a quiet sleep
Letting his mouth be on a Coconut sip
Smiling to the dreams which he held back
As all grow dim and the night become dark

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The noise called Love

Wait a minute
Why does my heart beat sound that way,
Like a hundred samba drums of Brazil
Thrilling a thousand voices of excitement
On a sandy pitch were soccer is played?

Jungles have got their noise
The Lions, the Elephants, the wild Oaks
Cities have got their noise
The automobiles, the bikes, the ice cream man
Schools have got their noise
Aee Bee Cee, One Two Three, Doh Rah Meh!
But true love has got its noise
A joyful and steady, silent heart beat
Which no human ear can decipher

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Haiku: Hope

There shines a chain of stars, lined up the
night sky
Glittering to the quiet and queer custom; a perfect night style
Lighting up the hill top; a spectacular view of these forested lands
Let’s hope on Divine providence; it will never forsake our hands

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May 2016

In the morning
After the rains,
The lands are wet
With dew and mist
The rivers overflow
The sun is slow
To wake
For the towns’ sake,
In instalments
On the roofs first
On the trees and nests
On the fields and streets
Through the lands, wild
And upon all mankind

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Friday

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!”

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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

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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
Www.oiroegbu.wordpress.com

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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

Commentary:
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

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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

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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

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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

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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
Nevertheless.

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

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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

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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…

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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

Commentary:
Ovim is in Nigeria and the poet hails from there.

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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

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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!

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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?

Commentary
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.

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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

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April

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!

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Musing: For a special friend

Can I call you my engine or engineer
You steer my desires like the wheel
You play the strings of my heart like the guitar
You sink my sorrows like the submarine
And make my heart skip beats always
I race forward like the locomotive
Up the hills, with force and might
You train my courage,
“Hope is a waking dream”

You fan my face with graceful limbs
And with your sweet perfumed papers
My dreams are your utmost desires
You pray for my own good
You call me a special friend
Nothing compares to your memories
Nothing can come in between us
Smack my hands when you act the turkey
I’m glad your even someone funny

My smiles come from thoughts of you
There is no peace in me, if your face I can’t see
And now I recall your adorable words
“Just be good and do what you should”

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Musing: A Lovers Tale

“I will love you even when the tree leaves fall
In the winters cold and summers heat
I will love you even when the days are gone
And when the nights grow even darkest”

I submit to you
All I have and own
I am your servant
But I am your lover

The nights must come
But we have each other
And we shall make the fire burn
The flowers we tend together

You tell me tales
I tell you mine too
But my tales are longer
You fall asleep before my last

Now what do you see in my eyes
When you stare in them?
You sweetly called it love right?
But you see yourself in my eyes

The morning is airy
We stand at the curtainside
But my arms are hairy
And it does tickle you

What if I told you something
That I care about your happiness
And that each time you smile
My heart rejoices in a joyful bliss

Look upon me now am young
Remember this grey-colored eyes
Remember also my elfy ears
Do not forget for I shall ask much later

And when my poetry muse
You shall always be my theme
What more happiness can I thank God for
But for you, my amazing friend and lover?

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Musing: Easter

Greater love has no one than this, that
someone lay down his life for his friends…
John 15.13
WorldEnglishBible

Easter signifies love and care
The festivities rent the airs
And now we all love and share
For Christ came and died for man
Bringing mercies unknown to men
From Divine stores, made in Heaven
To blessed Earthly Providence
Soft airs and vegetable forests
To exotic wildlife and rivulets

Happy Easter celebrations everyone… Show some love and care. God bless you

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Wanderer by Obiajulu Nwodo

Wander-man, Tiger-man moves; sipping from different fountains overflowing with milk of life and death

He hops;
From Jagua Nana to
Annan Wanger
Never satisfied with his own wife and life
Hannah
Who
Kisses empty sheets
Droops and sags in
Jeans
Eating Bullshit

Wander-man, Bat-man
Fly!
While Hannah cries
High five!
Wine!
While Hannah dies
You tell her lies to cover up your crimes

Why?

Away with it wander-heart!
Retire so your palm won’t catch fire.

Obiajulu Nwodo is a versifier and a short story writer. Some of her works has been published in different platforms. She has some unpublished works to her credit and she is a good friend of mine.

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Rhetorics: The bridge, friends, rain, family and love

What is better than bringing two worlds together,
Bringing life and earth over a body of water?

What is better than true friendship
When it’s all about companionship?

What is better than the scent of the rain
When it brings the reign of droughts to end?

What is better than the smiles of loved ones
When in all, good or bad, gives special fun?

What is better than the love in your eyes
When it brings me to Divine speed and might?

The bridge serves the community
It shares in every dream we believe in;
Involving friends, and their aspirations
We are connected to a circle that never ends
Love nurtures this circle and sense of family
Built on unconditional care and concern for others
Alas, the rains must fall; must fall on us all
And it tells of how common we must be
To one another; male or female, white or black
And the need for a long lasting linking bridge
For all dreams, mankind dreams of sharing

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Sun rising

Hail the sun rises from the East
From the back of the houses and hills
Up the skies, just above the green forests
On the faces of the glittering waters
And the rugged patches of the dusty earth

The sun rises upon all little hamlets
And on all busy streets of the towns,
On the faces glad to see another day
And on the farms which it paints gold
The land marvels at her power and strength
The trees besides the rushing river,
Swoosh happily to the airy romance
That has come with the sweet smell
Of a beautiful and brand new day

The sun rises with its warmth
The rooftops receive her’ heat
Pigeons call from their nests
The shimmer fall on the rivulets
And quiet ponds in the hamet,
A blessed and calm setting it paints
Across the hamlet and the forests
On the striding Lions and Elephants
And even on little lives as the busy ants

Hail the sun rises with all hopes
On the faces working on the rice farms
Upon the Ostriches that walk the Veldt
And the shiny waters of Niger River
And the gold city of Johannesburg
The sun rises, waking us all

Commentary
Good morning readers and poets. If you have been to Africa, then you can truly see what I see each morning I wake. Try a safari, watch the Lions, Cheetahs, Leopards, Rhinos, Hyenas, Antelopes, Wildebeest, Buffaloes, Eagles, Vultures, Civets, Boars, Hippos, Alligators, Elephants, Pythons, Co’diles etc feed and feel the wonders of mother Nature in a land of the sun. Africa is blessed with abundant sunshine.

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Peace & War

“…Once we knew peace
And then a brother raised
His hand upon the other
The world was never the same again”

We wake to the sound
Of the buzzing bee
And the fine sight
Of green and clean fields
Loved ones smile and roll
On the sweet smelling turf
The airs blow freely
And all is sunny and happy
The clouds are blue
The birds sing for all
From the tall flowery trees

Now the streets go empty
The war machines are coming
Where will fall next?

Now we wake to the sound
Of heavy machines and bots
Trampling bulldozers and vans
And rockets waiting to explode
The fields are full of grease and oil
And even with patches of blood
Now loved ones cling to our hands
Tears for the dying world
Come to cloud peoples’ eyes
The last leaf fall from the tree
The world is no more free

What is the cost of peace
If we don’t understand the beauty
Of love and live, which we need?

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The Painter

Once I met a painter
A fine and petit young man
At the corner of the street he lived
Working away, minding his business
And living so solitary, that I wondered

“Hallo sir! What do you really paint?”
I must have sounded sheepish
For who won’t call a pen, a writer
When you know the pen writes?
“I paint ALL things! I paint you
I paint all you feel and care for”
He answered, hiding his resentment
Or yet, perhaps he didn’t get my jeer
I shuddered, strange it sounded
“My feelings and cares, hmm” I grunted
“But now I am carefree, how can you paint that?”
He looked at me, abandoned my talk
And turned the board he was working on
A magnificient picture stood before me
Some hues of blue, suggesting the skies
A tint of greens surrounding the lower board
And a yellow ball which I called the sun
Then on the middle, was a lonely Elephant
Raising his trunk high into the sky
More like, he was saluting someone up there
And I asked why he painted a lonely Elephant
“Shouldn’t he be having a family, sort of?”
He shrugged, smile and brought the image down
“He is lonely, only to his thoughts
He owes no one, he fears no one
He cares and loves himself, as he is” he replied
Perhaps the world had been crude to him I felt
Like he understood my mind, he smiled
“Now sit right there, Im gona paint you”
He said excitedly, pointing to a seat
His head will stuck out
Now and then to peer at me
I put up my best smile
Something inbetween a tear and innocency
He was’nt bothered at my look
My sister would have blurted out
“Ugh! Please change that face, Oke!”
Well, I tried to enjoy it, while it lasted
When the boredom tried to come upon me
He then was finally done; with a sigh
“Okay, and here we go; your portrait”
He carefully, turned the image to my view
I saw the image stare at me in confusion
Or was I the one confused; anyhow
Someone, somebody was truly muddled
Havent noticed my jaws were dropped
Till when I had need for talking
“Uhm, okay. I can’t explain the connection
Of I and, and eh… Him” I pointed at the image
“But deep down me, that guy, that painting
Feels like a part of me, feels like me!”
The painter laughed, enjoying my confusion
“Well, painting is like the revolving Earth
Each time you try to look at it,
Each gaze seem to be the very best
At certain point, at the age of the youth
Things, reasoning come to you different
But for your confusion and the Elephant
Do you now understand why I paint?”

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Musing: Made for you

“Come, come closer…
Keep your palms on mine
Look into my eyes
See how much you mean to me”

1
Come and feel my steel shine
Call me your gladiator
Your defender, your shield, your man
I am your shepherd

2
Have you seen my birds cackle?
Call me your farmer
I will press the Olives into your palms.
I shail help your dreams grow

3
Come and see my musings
I am your mouthpiece, your pencil
I will sing with my croaky voice
All night a lullaby will be, by the fireside

4
Come be by my side
I am your lover, and your my lover
We will make this companionship work
I am your friend, made just for you

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Lullaby: Moonlight

The grey moon smiles always
And to know that he sleeps all day
Looks absurd, but that is his little way
He is not strange, not unkind and not gay
But his manners leaves us with nought to say

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In you I see Gods beauty

Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight
How your pretty curly hair fall before my sight?
You look like the fine immaculate white snow
Massaging the breadths of the grey mountain,
Just that now you stand not before a mirror
But before my very gaze, my very own!
Your mocking eyes twinkle like the jewels on your neck
And it’s good to know you have been there for my sake

The cold nights mean nothing to us
You are my own dearest nurse
Wonders drive my wild fancy
I’m hopeful and not crazy
When it rains, you blush
And when the fruits bloom
We run together to the bush
Minding the earthly worms

Now stars glitter above my eyes
As the cool and lonely wind sigh
Methinks you summon the airs,
And the wolves from their lairs
You send the moon on vacation
You are an enchantress,
For in you, I see Gods adoration
Now I say a farewell, my dearest

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Psalm: The Stream flows…

” The Lord made the Heavens and Earth
And all the creatures that walk on it
He sends the airs and her comfort
To my weary self, each dark night ”

The hills above the ground
The grasses grow upon it
The Eagles whine up the sky
And the blues paint the clouds
Where the greens and blues meet
There is a fine tint, very mild

You made the butterflies colorful
And the squirrels to sit upon the trees
The Porcupines with fine spines
You made all men beautiful
Waters rush in haste upon the streams
And the winds in relieve, sigh

The whiteness of waterfalls fall solemnly
Voices in the caves reply to my song in echos
And the bats hover about in confusion
The world, fauna and flora, and all ethos
All migratory birds fly happily in echelon

The streams flow…
Waters in haste
To other lands
Quenching the thirsts
Of the clay, fauns, flora and man

I love all You have made
I am in love with You, Jehovah

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I am: Three poems of Okechukwu Iroegbu

(1.)
Hail the sun rises!
Down from the hidden hills
And up to the white clouds
The rains has come upon us
And Mother Natures romance has begun

(2.)
I am a rainmaker
For the days are stuffy and hot
And to the cold rains we must go
I am a painter
For each morning my mind is awoken
To the wonderful hues before me
I am a farmer
For my passion for the Wild
Can’t be imagined or measured
I am a singer
For I sing songs in my heart
And when the Wind sings, I with her
I am a tale teller
For these stories are mild
And in the night, a lullaby it is
I am a poet
For each day turn to nights
And I realise that the pen has got a might
I am a lover
For nothing else spoils the world
But uncontrolled love…
I am Okechukwu Iroegbu
A common man of many deeds
But to Jehovah I owe it all

(3.)
The sun sets before my eyes,
Night throws her veil on earth
The breezes travel south
And on their pathways
They play lyrics of sooth
And within, without
I see how lucky I am
To have your unfailing love

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The Lords doing

Who understands the Lords doings?
Who can decipher all He can do?

Man made money
God made bees that made honey

Man made electricity
But Jehovah gave the light of the day

Man made fans
God made the winds and the storm

Man made the torchlight
Jehovah made the moon for the night

Man solve algebra
Who understands the working of the orbit?

Who can decipher what the Lord can do?

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Imaginations

Imaginations…

…Soars the skies
With the fine Eagles

…Paints the winds
Red and sky blue

…Watches the rising sun
As she wakes fron the East

…Tastes the grapes
Along the green orchard

…Dream a dream
And believes in that dream

…Rides the Wildebeest
Across the Savannah

…Fly kites
Which turn out to be air planes

…It is in you and me
And it can make us the best we can be

Imagination…
Is the discovery of oneself,
Of the true meaning of existence
Imagination, rules the world

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My Momi’s day

“I stand under the guava tree
And dance my funny dance
With one leg I hop like a mantis…”

It is a beautiful morning, mother
And today is a special one for you
I remember the waters and lather
When you washed me as a child

The nights are always cold
Even now I outgrown my babyness
I wake to see myself covered
In a warm and fine blanket

The salty baby tears of mine
Form part of your diet
I struggle with you when you dine
But you are patient and loving

Nothing compares to your love
I am a man, come to see
What you have been all this while
And today I have many kisses for you

I love you momi
And I love you again,
Always…

Happy Mothers Day to all beautiful, sweet, caring, loving and Godly mothers. I love you all

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Musing: I wonder

I wonder if it was a crime to love
Or yet a sin to even try at all;
But then memories sift into time
Amazed to the worlds littleness,
The world seeks after lust
A shrug I must to this vanity
To love oneself is true happiness
But as the nights turn to days
And the days into past memories
It comes to me that love ain’t for everybody
I will continue to try to love others, genuinely
As God has loved me…

I feel absolutely nothing right now…

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The African mist

1.
The mists still settle upon the hamlet
The hills, the vales and the green forests
All is treacherously hidden in it
One must tread very carefully, lest
You step on a stray scorpion or serpent
Or fall into a ditch or a fast flowing rivulet
The morning took the place of the night
And there, goes the beautiful African mist

2.
And when the African warriors chant
Singing the songs which frights the Wilds
I run up, to the hills to take a view
Hoping to catch a glimpse of the company
Up the solemn blue skies, the Hawks circle
Boys beat the bush with huge sticks
And men walk around with pepper stoves*
The women and girls stay behind,
Pounding, grinding, cooking and brewing

3.
As my eyes wake, I see the light
And now it rains again after the night
I stay humbly quiet
Listening to this blessedness
A roof pettering; so mild, so soft
Drums played by unseen hands
Up and down; the tempo went
With much silent innocence
For my young wings are not hurt…
I lay to observe this sweetness

Note:
Pepper Stoves: A collection of dried grass with pepperic condiments stucked into a metallic structure constructed to have small holes that can enable the passage of smoke; meant to be used as a trap for the rodents of the wild. When a rabbit hole is sighted these stoves are shoved into it, and lighted. The smoke is strong and can choke the inmates of the hole, forcing them out…