Poetry

February 28, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

AFP photo

 

By

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

 

 

Oil And Gas; Mama’s Twisted Fate

 

 

Oil, the treasure that invited Jude

And made Mama crude,

The fortune that turned him rude

And tied Mama, nude

Oil, the wrath of blessing.

 

He is still around

And Mama bound

He gallivants sound

And Mama in wound,

Whatever he does pound

Mama the mortar on ground

Gas, the thick smoke she breathes.

 

Oil the scars on her body

The disease in her bone marrow

The thorn in her heart

Oil, her commotion and confusion

Gas, the thick smoke she breathes.

 

The blessings she did pray

The pain they always flare

The breakthrough she did hope

The barrier they do rope,

Oil, the prayer God answered

The skull they splintered

Gas, the supplication she made

The poison in her bread

Oil and Gas; MAMA’S TWISTED FATE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Marathon Of War

 

 

It is a deep mystery

In the face of reality

An intermediate thriller

And overwhelming horror

Too existential,

With little or no suspense

Burning the atoms of freedom

Boiling the particles of peace

Folding the mat of romance

As we run the marathon of war.

 

The fear from leadership

And the doubts in the citizenry

The farness of justice

And the hardness of fairness,

The deadness of equity

And the newness of terrorism

The depth of racism

And the pride of hate

All, not just a limerick

For the pain underneath religion

And the trauma behind politics

All, a dagger of arrogance

With the spear of ignorance

Supporting the marathon of war.

 

The titbits of deceit

Under the carpet of rulership

The cankerworm and caterpillar

The swarm of locusts

Eating up the freedom of peace

Thrusting a romance of horror,

Tilling a thrilling mystery

A marathon of war

A race of agony

A world of destruction

Winning, losing and losing, winning

A war on humanity

And humanity at war

All, a marathon of war.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unemployment, A Trigger Of Crime

 

 

Shattered heart with a sorrowful song

Unheard voice writing a faint note

Broken wings, much uncaptured

Spiral like a whirlwind

Viral like an ill wind,

Longer than the train

Complex with coaches

Multiple in phases and stages,

Unemployment, a trigger of crime.

 

Boring, belittling and burdensome

Lonesome, worrisome and cumbersome

Tempting, traumatizing and terminating

Misguiding, misleading and mistreating

Debasing, degrading and devastating

Disgusting, disturbing and discouraging

Undignifying, ungilding and unyielding

Bewitching, besieging and bewildering

Unemployment, a trigger of crime.

 

Beast of hate, brother of ignorance

Son of wickedness, father of backwardness

Pain of parents, ache of guardians

Bill of family, anger of relatives

Burden of friends, rage of mates

Blindly enslaving the mind

Excruciatingly burning the future

Frustratingly, crumbling strengths

Unemployment, a trigger of crime.

 

A bulldozing cankerworm

Dwindling our growths,

Dimming our lights

Fertilizing our weaknesses

Killing our green hope,

The harlot raping our youths

The thief stealing our dreams

The ring of prejudices:

Unemployment, the trigger, the crime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wonderment Of Religion

 

 

As numerous as legion

Engulfing every region,

Winning like a battalion

Earning more than a million.

 

Overwhelmed by your wave

Gathered all for conclave,

Made all your own slave

Inside a sacred cave.

 

Fascinating like charm

Done and doing harm,

Set ablaze our farm

Yet we are not warm.

 

You poisoned our food

Did little or no good,

Decayed the neighbourhood

And spoilt our mood.

 

You bought us a rose

And made us to lose,

You cleaned up our nose

And gave us a war prose.

 

You pulled us from God

Whipped us with a rod,

Broke in pieces our cord

And scattered our pod.

 

We need no Dictionary

To understand ‘Missionary’

We need to be ordinary

For God to do extraordinary.

 

You made us crazy

Forced us to be lazy,

Pretending to be busy

Yet staggering and dizzy.

 

Religion, dwell on sense

Stop all the violence,

Undress the pretence

And restore our confidence.

 

Think of our children

A palace; better than den,

Let them write with pen

Never kill them like a hen.

 

Religion, we want unity

We thirst for purity,

We hate all of enmity

Religion, practice integrity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha is a young writer from Nigeria. From a family of eight, including both parents she is the second daughter but fourth child. She read Estate Management and has some experience in Banking and Broadcasting.

She has published some works in a Liberian magazine, Ghanian news platform and an Indian poetry publication.

Many of her works have gone abroad for evaluation and publication. She wrote the longest poems/rhymes in the world, yet to be published. Writing is life.

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