of your soul
like a plant
Let me cohabit
with the chlorophyll
of your passion,
till our amity
of forever after.
We dwell in a world of austerities,
recession’s bipartite tandem,
where diseases wage war
against the leukocytes of our economy.
Here, ills of corruption
inflicts the core of our growth.
are being adulterated with propagandas.
Lo! No infirmary is solace.
We are now a hamlet- sick
yet searching for a panacea to its malady;
a conurbation crying for aids from foreign governments.
For the he(art) of our nation
has been plagued by an anonymous virus
and policies can no longer serve as suppressants.
This will pass.
MESSAGE AT GIZA
Yesternight, at the tunnel beside the pyramid of Giza,
I met a boy whose only source of nutrition
is the mucus from his leaking nose & tears from his raining
He broke my chain of ignorance & told me tales —
Tales of how the noun called people is modified by
adjectives of sufferance;
Tales of how the land has been barren and now seeks
fertilizers called policies;
Tales of how the Nile of our shamed-past drowns any cargo
He told me tales of how devils now cast
When men who spoke through their noses
perforated the glory of your mother tongue
with spears of mispronunciations,
did you maunder? Like your father …
Rather like a garrulous clown
who derives utility from eulogizing oddities,
you applauded the ignorance of these men
and got your pocket filled with peanuts. Pauperism.
Now that your lad
desecrates the sacredness of your lingo
and the nucleus of your culture dances to the alarums of
death, you cry foul.
Please, be calm, think,
remember that boomerangs of karma do not move in a
They favour neither the progeny nor his ancestry.
Fire of turmoil flows in my broken heart.
Beneath my arteries cocoon does it slat
Resplendent is it in the odious path.
For you left me in a dilemma to solve the math.
In perilious odysseys I held you tight.
With vigorous poise I zipped your plight.
Lo! With the dart of lust,you struck my might
Till it ruffled in the mud that bite.
oh wirra! Fiery is your love cresset.
With the smoldered Knife of death
You jagged my heart into facet
Till in the hue of red it became wet
Albeit your bellicose stance.
My soul will ne’er slump on your jabber-lance,
For in the amorous waters of love it will dance
Till the saviour is here for a glance.
Ajise Vincent is a Nigerian Poet. His poem “Song of a Progeny” was a shortlisted poem at the Korea- Nigeria Poetry feast, 2015. His works have been published in London grip magazine, Kalahari Review, Sakonfa literary magazine, AfricanWriter, Indian periodical, Social Justice Poetry, I Am Not a Silent Poet, Afrikana ng, Poetry Pacific, Jalada Africa,The Poet Community, Whispers, Commonline Journal, Poetry Life & Times, NovelAfrique, Madswirl, Black Boy Review, Tuck Magazine and various literary outlets. He is currently finishing up a major in Economics at the University.