By
Ikirigo Sokari Jeremiah
STORY OF THE PENGICIAN
I used to know of a Pengician,
Some long long time ago.
Who plays with words, like a magician,
And sweeps girls off their toes.
He was the best, in his area,
And gloried in his prime.
Men and women, from far and near,
All came to grace his rhymes.
His fame spread wide, from coast to coast,
Across the continents.
He puffed and bragged, in gleeful boasts,
In joyful merriments.
He fed his flesh, with yummy meals;
At every now and then.
And left his quill, to rot in chills,
Just like his brother ken.
Some few years passed, as time passed by,
A duel was organised.
To honour the “Bard” with flows so fly,
With a reward, so highly prized.
The Pengician, on hearing this,
Started to sing and dance.
The trophy’s mine, he sang with bliss,
Saying, no one can take my chance.
He only bragged, with wondrous words,
But forgot to muse his pen.
While others were busy, sharpening their swords,
He allowed pride to win his mien.
The day of the duel, finally came,
And the stage was set in place.
The bards all came, with pens on flames,
With the Pengician’s pen in maze.
Yet he said, within himself,
As pride so inspired him.
I am the man, I know myself,
Today, for help, my pen shall make them scream.
START! the moderator cried!
And the duel so kicked off.
All dropped the flows they did compiled,
Some good, some bad, some tough.
The time now came to announce the bard,
That won the prized trophy.
The Pengician’s heart, started beating hard,
For fear of uncertainties.
Still, he said within himself,
I just can’t lose like that.
I know I’m good, I trust myself,
I just can’t lose like that.
Alas! A strange name sounded out,
Through the MC’s microphone.
And in shame, he so sneaked out,
And made sorrow his man to clone.
He quickly ran home, and packed his things,
And went for a life exile.
He cursed his pen, with words so mean,
And died in his exile.
This is for you, my beloved dudes,
Overconfidence kills.
It makes you feel, you’re the smartest dude,
While bringing you down in bits.
A NEW NIGERIA
I dream of a new Nigeria,
A country I can proudly call my own.
On its shores, and abroad,
A place where my hopes are kept alive.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
Where the youths, will be gainfully employed.
Where corruption will be a thing of the past,
Where I can go to bed, with my two eyes closed.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
Where love, peace and harmony will reign.
In its nooks and crannies, everywhere,
Where electricity will be constant.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
One who’s worth the tag – Giant of Africa.
Whose leaders will be truly humane,
Truthful, responsible, trustworthy, not moths and weevils.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
Where its roads will be well constructed,
Everywhere you go, connected,
By sincere companies, not Co-looters of our wealth.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
Where our educational system will be one of the best in the world.
Where jobs will be given to applicants, based on merits,
Where pensioners will be paid their gratuities with ease.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
Where true justice will be attained in our judicial systems.
Where lawyers will no more be known as manipulators and liars,
Where our policemen will no longer be Road side beggers.
I dream of a new Nigeria,
A place where dreams are conceived,
A place where worries are relieved,
A place where success is truly achieved.
…. I dream of a new Nigeria
NNEKA’S FOLLY
I used to know of a Damsel,
Who’s beauty shines, like the sun,
A young maiden, we all call angel,
Her beauty simply equals none.
She was a pretty lady, with a glowing skin,
Fair like the sun, appealing to the eyes,
Who joyed in her prime, like garden-flies,
Making millions throng, her heart to win.
Men of timbers and calipers,
Came from oh! So far and near,
Men of renown, from earth and mars,
Visited my hood, just to see, this sisi rare.
Some came with cars, others aeros,
Many with fine; soft resting pillows,
Some with golds, others diamonds,
Just to gain, her loving bond.
But none of these, did she choose,
To concur to, but rather refused.
All their gifts, all their wealth,
And all their soothing, glorious woos.
She flustered all, at her corner,
Why she says no, to all these men.
Bemused also; was her mother,
And her elder brother Ken.
When asked why, she acts so?
She said her love can’t be bought nor sold-
With money and material things,
And all the fanciful blink-blinks.
Promising never, to let them down,
But soon to birth, her family’s new dawn.
Not long a time, aye! from then,
When all her wonderful suitors left,
She went and met; a boy called Ben,
Who hardly knows, his right from the left.
A drug dealer, smoker and robber,
A dreaded thief, we call black Tiger,
A boy who has, no pan for life,
But lived it, completely with strife.
Few months passed, as time passed by,
Nneka’s belly began to protrude,
Some goodly men, came and asked why,
But Nkeka won’t stop acting rude.
So people stopped, giving a damn,
Due to her harsh insulting slams.
But as time passed by, it was certain,
Her pregnancy’s sure, despite her rantings.
Two months ahead, to her EDD,
Seven thief’s were shot and killed,
And Nneka, on hearing the news,
Started acting strange, cold and blue.
Not long from then, the bad news came,
Nneka’s Ben, was amongst the slain.
Her strength left her, like someone lame,
In regret and agonizing pain.
She cried and cried and cried and cried..
And cried and cried and bled and died…
THE POOR BOY’S TALE (A story poem)
There once lived a lad, in my hood
Life has deprived, from all that’s good
Who spends all his day, in the woods
Lacking mother, father and dudes..
A disadvantaged lad, be who he was
Who never had the company of parenthood
Disfavoured he was, by nature’s cause
But hoped someday, things’ll turn out good
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
Determined he was, to face life’s obstacles
Till he reaches, life’s lofty pinnacles
He’s not like others, who seek the incredible
And fold hands, expecting miracles
He does menial jobs, to pay his fees
Sulks intimidations, by his colleagues
To their jests and hate led words
He replies none, but cries to God
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
But sadly now, to one’s good note
He has an uncle, flaunting with wealth
Go help yourself, he always quotes
I suffered too, to have this wealth!
Your fees, not my responsibility
Your upkeep, not my job
People like you, are juiceless liabilities
What can an Orphan, offer me, Mr Bob?
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
These are the words, he keeps hearing
From his uncle, in his times of need
With swatting spanks, so he stopped visiting
But prayed to God, in his times of need
Few years passed, as time passed by
Jimi clinched to his final year
I’ll do my best, Jimi said, yes I’ll try
In this exams, I must have my cheer
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
The final exams came and went
And guess; Jimi came out first class
On hearing the news, his clothes he rent
Frolicked with complete joy and ease
Right from then, Jimi’s life changed
From lack and want, to abundance
His mansion was great, well arranged
To suit his man, and countenance
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
Not long from then, Bob heard the news
That Jimi’s now, a millionaire
But disdained the news, with his reviews
Asking how, when and where
So at Christmas time, Jimi went home
To see where he stayed, once more
When Bob saw him, his heart raced to Rome
With sore bemusement, to the core
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
Before Jimi could yell, oh, dear uncle
Bob’s already on the ground, lying lifeless
So Jimi ran out, with his wife, Joyful
But found out he’s gone, in his distress
So my dear brothers and lovely sisters
I have a message, for all of you
Do not look down on people, even beggars
For you know not, what the future holds for them and you
He had a strong focus and a dream.
Flowing within, like Fundi’s stream.
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