Categories
Africa Africa, Poetry and Love

Musical Africa: Talking Drum

The Talking Drum is peculiar to the Yoruba people of West Africa.

Musical Africa
You will agree with me that Africa is a musical continent. It’s full of sounds and songs. Every tribe and nation has a peculiar musical identity. As dressing and languages differ so do musical instruments. I will like to share a musical instrument common to the Yoruba people of West Africa.

The talking drum
The pitch of the talking drum is varied to mimic the tone patterns of speech. This is done by varying the tension placed on the drumhead: the opposing drum heads are connected by a common tension chord. The waist of the drum is held between the player’s arm and ribs, so that when squeezed the drumhead is tightened, producing a higher note than when it’s in its relaxed state; the pitch can be changed during a single beat, producing a warbling note. The drum can thus capture the pitch, volume, and rhythm of human speech, though not the qualities of vowels or consonants.

Categories
love poems lullaby Poetry

Lullaby: Sing for me a Lullaby

Sing for me dear nightingale
Gather your host of voices
Rant through the early night
Tweet away joyfully from heart
Let my ears quiver from your song
Let frogs and crickets listen to it
To respond with their baritone
Sing for the sweet nectar
For red roses and hibiscus
And the traveling sunlight
Tell the stars your stories
And the wind the days you saw
Let me hear your voice sing for me,
To ring through quiet nights a lullaby

Categories
Africa culture/tradition lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry

Starry Night

Stars sing your herald
Cold night, crickets quiz
In quietness I lay alone

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Categories
Africa culture/tradition education folklore Lessons from Experiences lifestyle Love and Christianity Nature Pastoral Poetry

Let’s take a walk

Let us take a walk through the pine forest,
Under the cool shade which she provides,
Through the path where tree leaves form a cushion
And a place where squirrels make their abode
Let us walk pass the dark shrubs in the hot noon,
To feed our eyes on mother Nature’s wonders,
Through lands where green forests grow,
Through gardens of roses and the Jacaranda
And where streams flow fast towards the estuary
Let us take a walk through lands where men grow flowers
And when they blossom, they pick them for the ladies
And happy ladies dance for the love of men

Come let us take a walk through my mind’s eyes
Let us write a story of our own imaginations
And walk the path which no other human ever walked
Come let us give life to stories of lands far away
And lands where the sun rise with her golden might
To stroll through the fields called love
And drink of elixir which heals all pains
Let us take a walk through God’s word and humanity
Through sincerity and purpose, care and selflessness
To hope that jets drop cucumbers and not bombs!
Come let us take a walk through fields of wheat,
Let us gather the slow snails and slugs with a rake
To make fun of the things which stay around
And when the night come, to make our moments
Gladly warming ourselves on a fire out the fields

Categories
Nature Pastoral Poetry

Muse: My Prize

My songs are for you,
Darling you’re my prize
And I’ll run to the finish line

Categories
Love and Christianity Nature Pastoral Poetry Uncategorized

Sound of Water

My poems are like sounds of flowing water,
It tells of no serious things in particular;
But little of people that wash others’ feet
And the wild that call green forests home
It talks of fauns that hide in crevices
And dreamy waterfalls, happy to fall with currents,
Rushing, flowing in streams and rivers,
Out of sight, far away from our hamlet
Planting green seeds on all dry earth
And sometimes playing sounds
Under tree logs, behind boulders
Mimicking a bird’s singing
So that birds stop to listen
Your love is a balm to my heart
A healing elixir, refreshing my soul
For each time I lay beside humble waters,
I see streaks of sun rays escape through tree leaves
As beautiful sounds of water play a melodious tune

Categories
Uncategorized

Twist and Turns

Twist and turns, that’s the song of life and the road
But crawl, walk, run towards those brown hills,
Dust shall become a dress or a travelling companion

Categories
Poetry

A muse: God’s Love

Songs of the night, sweet lullabies for the days toil

Messages from Heaven, refined touch of God’s goodness

Whistling from the neighboring pines and wide eyed owls

All call out to the quiet night, strange, quietly hopeful
Dreams are cut out on plates of wet marble

Left to dry out in the open sun, like some fairytale

Hopes of happy ever after, thoughts of great deeds

One bonded from Nature and love of God

Categories
Uncategorized

Muse: Midnights

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

Categories
Uncategorized

Four Musings: My Music, The Train, August and WordPress

1. My Music
The sweet tingling of the guitar strings
On my soft palms reminds me of a song
Which plays quietly in my heart
Without drums and strings they play
The songs call out to love
To memories which I adore
I will let this music play through the valleys
And the peak of highest mountains
Through the fields where yellow corn grow
And through the empty hallway
Believing you hear me someday

2. The Train
Nothing excites a countryside boy better
Than a steady long stream of the iron snake!
When it comes with its powerful grace,
The roadways shake and tremble greatly
With the tongues of various green grasses scrubbing
The sides of the iron snake, without drawing his attention
The goats bleat, the kids yell, men came to see
Though unperturbed with the movements about
The iron snake hoots out loud and clear warnings
Minding his business, he went on jogging by

3. August
Some holidays, some month!
Some dancing and some fun
The days are mild, so are the nights
The food warm and the fruits ripe
When it rains, the wet clay rejoice
And women gather to pick the ‘udala’*
Sweet fruit atimes but sour other times
The sun shine is beautiful,
It creates a bright atmosphere
One unrivaled just for August

4. WordPress
My days are joyful and hopeful
Full of sweet dreams and journeys
I discovered a pathway down the jungle
And threaded carefully thru the thorn
Wandering in the great unknown of the pen,
Wondering what might become of my pain
But nothing forth coming without a try
Now I answer why not, when they ask why?
And this dream won’t be complete without you
Yes I can fly high, I can soar higher with you

Commentary.
Udala fruit is a tropical fruit and well eaten in the southern parts of West Africa. The name udala perhaps is a native Igbo name. Thank you WordPress for this wonderful opportunity!

Categories
Uncategorized

Musing: Song of a Farmer

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

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

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

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