Poetry

March 23, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Logan Abassi/UN photo

 

By

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

 

 

 

Punctured Nature

 

 

I am mother nature

You widen my exposure,

Listen now dear earth

Listen, hear my breath,

I have been punctured

And even captured.

I am fake pregnancy

Courtesy of chemicals,

Protruding tommy-balloon

Total womb-vacancy

Wild human radicals

Finally breeding baboon.

I am the breast

I cannot suckle again,

My milk is sour

I am no longer for feast,

Because I am in pain

So they turn to flour.

That is not the least

I am the sacred breast,

For breakthrough

They puncture my walls

Cut me through

And plant their balls.

I am the foetus

They flush me with drugs

For them to focus

And maintain their hugs

With a deceitful kiss

Yet they dare not hiss.

I am the buttocks

They Pierce me from top

Insert heavy blocks

There, they never stop

They put me a wedge

And build round a hedge.

I am the eye

Normally, I am black

Now, me they dye

Send me to the back,

As though I am useless

Yet, it is not their success.

I am the skin

Natural, I am beautiful

But they wash me thin

So sometimes I look fearful,

Black, white, green, blue

I even gum like glue.

I am the ozone layer

They pump gas into me

Wail for climate change

Chant it is strange,

Turn a soothsayer

And say I sting like bee.

I am the land

They bind my hand,

Mine coal and drill oil;

So they foil, soil and boil

Because they torment me

And I cannot flee.

I am the ocean

My own musician,

I make each piece

And it gives me peace,

Wave, storm, tempest

I revenge against my rest.

I am the wild animal

They claim to tame

Even when they are canal

Just for their fame,

When nature gets me angry

I devour because I am hungry.

 

 

 

 

Aura Of My Pen

 

 

With words really weighty

And rhymes too touchy

In lines very hearty

I pour them to be happy.

 

It goes viral

In a wrinkle spiral

Starting very casual

And becoming cordial.

 

Aura of my ink

Scent of my palm

Ornament of my finger

Perfume in my hand

Estrangement of my letter

Elasticity of my pen,

Charisma of my note

Enchantment of my piece

Charm of my words,

Freshness of my thought

Power of my spirit

Cooking pot of my anger

Rage of my libation

Wrath of my weapon

Fire of my desire

Steam of my wish

Seed of my prayers

Flame of my passion,

Hammer of my strength

Trigger of my mission.

 

East, west, north and south

Drawn from Africa

Blown across Mediterranean

Within America and Europe

Beyond Asia and Australia

Sahel savanna, rain forest

The hills and valleys

Mars, mercury, earth

Saturn, Uremus, Pluto, Jupiter

Neptune, Universe

Wonder, If I had no pen

 

 

 

 

Many A Time

 

 

Many a time, a guru is neither made from a zombie nor cookie, either junkie or rookie.

 

Many a time, a beginner is neither willing nor fulfilling, either forced or reinforced.

 

Many a time, a nation is neither united nor excited, either agitating or retreating.

 

Many a time, a people is neither progressing nor advancing, either retrogressing or regretting.

 

Many a time, politics is neither service-oriented nor divinely motivated, either selfishly instigated or greedily incited.

 

 

 

 

We Appreciate

 

(The Fallen Heroes #Nigerian Army)

 

 

We salute your bravery

As you fought ‘slavery’

We admire your courage

For rising against bondage,

We appreciate!

 

You were always gallant

Ever ready and combatant,

Alert, obedient and vigilant

Neither lazy nor reluctant,

We appreciate!!

 

Golden heart you had

Never were you sad,

Fatherly mind exhibited

Your borders you protected,

We appreciate!!!

 

Families lonely; beds cold

Children ‘scattered’ spouses on hold,

Homes bored; relatives troubled

There you were, jungle doubled,

We appreciate!!!!

 

You slept in the forest

Had nothing like rest,

Vowed to keep the peace

Only death made you cease,

We appreciate!!!!!

 

Some devoured by beast

Some, no time to feast,

Yet you were not conquered

You were only murdered,

We appreciate!!!!!!

 

Some blown into ashes

Some given numerous lashes,

Captured, made prisoners of war

Given death undilutedly raw,

We appreciate!!!!!!!

 

Very far and dry

Thirsty and hungry,

Hands in cuff

Heads blown off,

We appreciate!!!!!!!!

 

Some given medals of honour

But families live in horror,

Some buried with national flags

But bodies torn like rags,

We appreciate!!!!!!!!!

 

Some actually got drowned

Yet they were not crowned,

You were really fantastic

In fact, outstandingly patriotic,

We appreciate!!!!!!!!!!

 

Never cared about the swamp

There you built your camp,

Slept without any lamp

‘No surrender’ was your stamp,

We appreciate!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Thank God for history

It is a form of victory,

Forgotten or immortalized

Comforted or traumatized,

We appreciate!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

The Irony

 

 

The criminal; the prosecutor

The wolf; the shepherd.

 

The angel; the lucifer

The saint; the satan.

 

The lover; the hater

The friend; the enemy.

 

The leader; the beheader

The preacher; the butcher

 

The helper; the killer

The colleague; the saboteur.

 

 

 

 

 

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha Is a Nigerian graduate of Estate Management with experience in Banking and Broadcasting. She has published over one hundred poems in over ten countries. Her two longest poems of 355 and 560 verses are available on amazon, THE TRANSFORMATION TRAIN and LETTER TO MY UNBORN respectively. She is a passionate African ink.

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