Poetry

Excerpts from MY MOTHER’S EYES SPEAK VOLUMES

Page 31 By The Riverside

I sit by the riverside
Where the rocks
Divorce from pure waters
Thinking:

The journey of true minds
Begins from the fountain
And flows with the seeds of time

Against the ever flowing river
Your radiance steals my heart
Fresh as innocence…
And even as your smile
Begins to fuel the fire
On your lips,
Watching me so closely,

My heart has spread out its wings
In a wide yearning
And, from your embrace
Love takes her seat by the waters.

 

Page 186 Saint Of The Gutter

IF I have a little love
To traverse the whole of Nigeria like you did Calcutta
And tend every gaping wound

If my arms are as tender
To embrace every joint split with pains
And soothe shrieking nerves with the balm of my smile

If my eyes are moist with passion
To shine like the stars that lit the night
And glaze over bug-infected bodies

If love fills me up and flows out of me
To water scorched tongues and calm burning sores
And stop the hailstorm and gun-smokes of suckers
If the sight of me breeds warmth that shields beggars
From lonely sobs, feverish memories and drowning silences
To restore stolen suns and gentle breeze

If I have a bit of your heart
Dear Mother Theresa,
To die to self and seek my people
Before dawn, we shall hold hands and dance
The dance my mother taught me.

 

Page 237 I sing

I SING of communal living
Hard working men, drilling joy into stony seasons
Women feeding their households
With baskets of melon, crypts of hope
Talents struggling to the fore
Songs erupting from tired lips
Patience, living at the petrol stations
Hope refusing to die, crippled, itching to rise
I sing of children giggling at heaven
Running about naked in the rain…

I sing of their laughter embracing sunshine
Their laughter breaking shackles of misery
I sing of their tender fingers
Soft like love, like healing dreams
I sing of the shoulders of our men, large, cushioned for comfort
I sing of their voice, reassuring and their translucent hearts
I sing of our women, rippled in the sun
I sing of the titillating hips of Africa, intoxicating
I sing of milk, sweeter than the early morning dregs
And the arrogant nipples that rock the gods
I sing of our running waters crystal from the rock
I sing of our tradition that knits sanity in our ribs
I sing of our madness and love, the cure

I sing of lovers, making their love in the heat
I sing of babies rushing out still
Because they know-, they know
The rainbow will be out
And they too will ride in open cars.