Poetry

January 29, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

By

Okeke Okechi

 

 

The Message

 

 

In the land fraught

with mediocrity,

Embellished with itching

Palms and knotted

With ferocity,

My head breaks with sickness

My hands freeze like ice.

The waves of penury

In its plenitude

Carried me like a kite

Billowing in the breeze,

I staggered.

 

Tell me chum:

Am I lost?

Or am I drunk?

Nay, tell my mother,

Away I fly to a farther

land where my head

will be well,

My hands will beat machines.

Tell her doom awaits her

Like the city of Nineveh

Until she awakens

Whence she lay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wind

 

 

The wind of obscurity

blew and gathered

infinitesimal pebbles

on frail eyebrows,

blinding them to pass.

 

Now it smacks its leftwing

relentlessly, to see it pass out,

lashing out and

passing the buck to its former

for its impotence.

 

That wind we heard

rustling over there,

here it is,

chasing after shadow,

clad in kaftan of change,

dining with bunch

of ten Percenter

to fight ten percent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okeke Okechi

Okeke Okechi hails from Umuoma in Ihitte Uboma Local Government Area, Imo state, Nigeria. He was born in 1995 and attended University of Nigeria, Nsukka (Alvan Campus) where he studied History and International Studies.

He is a budding playwright, short story writer, novelist and poet. He is working on a collection of short story and his debut novel.

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