January 11, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION


Ogana D. Okpah






Belt to wrist,

Is mocking bird catapulting

For a nuptial flight

Bat improvising, through night

Windows. Doors shut.

The dung, wall the goather

music stops- eulogy

Kicking sounds away days

Veiled to the chest like egyptian mummies.

We are lost, Scattered in flght

Like the edge of two river banks

That do not meet, but hear the

Bubbling waters roar still.

Blue birds, we are flying the dried air


With a grandfather clock,

Lock to time. Dumb sound improvise

The aorta of a colourless sky.

This takes back happy memories

Into a wild fauna habitat

It stakes into my trousers

Veined with the open hand.










As helminth, at tapering end,

We are use to a mulched earth.

The land lord, nail saw accross trees.

This might not yet be his work,

The roof is keen to tree barks

Each trunk cut, heaves to a dead rock.


Eating salmons in a marsh

From an empty pot, we dip

our hands in clay dreams

Down the city walk, we are

grapeseeded in a country drowsiness

Cut in stiffle shells


We had clap at the river birds

all night, with the raffia of the heart

Angling at a straight line. Indeed,

Teeth bites tongue

Flesh pricks bones

yet, death seeks our own?







Ogana D. Okpah

Ogana D. Okpah is a Nigerian, an undergraduate of Plant Science and Biotechnology. His works have appeared in Asvamegh journal, Africanwriter.com, The Rising Phoenix Review and a few others.


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