{POEM} Nnamdi Kanu’s Biafra

By Odimegwu Onwumere

Chike is my very good friend and Ofili is his father;

He is weeping against the disgust being shown by some persons
Against the struggle to actualise Biafra by Nnamdi whose father is Kanu.

Chike tells me, we should not blow up this opportunity

And I remember that in adventure, there is the danger and opportunity.

We have to look at the opportunity if we gain Biafra,
Not the danger we have to face while we pursue Biafra.

{Nnamdi Kanu}

Nnamdi has opened the once closed door of Biafra
After Odumegwu whose father is Ojukwu opened it.

We need not relegate our brother and the struggle
As Biafra is on the centre of the world beamed by stars.

Nnamdi wants to make us smile with Biafra as kindness
To our everyday life to light our hearts.

We accomplish different things at different age
Just as Chike my very good friend whose father is Ofili tells me:
We should not blow up this opportunity for Biafra.

(c) *Odimegwu Onwumere*; June 27 2017.
Email: apoet_25@yahoo.com

 

Tradition Illiterates {POEM}

By Odimegwu Onwumere

As a people,

we no longer understand ourselves better.

Our cultures that made those before us

understood each other better

have been pummeled.

{ Ofo na Ogu: The Epicenter of The Igbo Cosmos}

We have lost our memories,

since we lost our cultures.

Now,

we have no future,

no cultures and traditions

to shape a better society

of our future.

Mahatma Gandhi tells me:

A nation’s culture resides in the hearts

and in the soul of its people.

In our case,

we were directly and indirectly

being indoctrinated to have contempt for

and disrespect our cultures and traditions.

As a good teacher knows

the importance of connecting with the students

Ndigbo would’ve been better

with our aboriginal cultures and traditions.

We no longer have them in our hearts and souls;

we have turned cultures and traditions illiterates.

{© Odimegwu Onwumere; May 23 2017.}

 

Apparition {POEM}

By Odimegwu Onwumere

We heard he sent a letter to the Senate

On January Nineteen Two Thousand and Seventeen.

The Senate didn’t see him but saw his letter;

He then left for London for a Ten-day leave,

To treat himself.

He stayed for over Fifty days,

Showing care to us in attitude,

Not in action, through his messengers,

Whereas the country is bereft of action.

Some who visited him in London

Said he spoke to us.

We only heard his message

But did not hear his voice.

They told us that he was back,

And we waited to see him

On TV address us, to no reward.

To continue to reddish-purple us

They showed us pictures of him

Attending a Mosque,

When no one else

Confirmed seeing him live.

They continue to tell us that

He’s fit and healthy to rule us

But he took another leave

On May Eight Two Thousand and Seventeen,

For London.  Another leave? Now indefinite.

The dismaying aspect is that

He speaks to a few persons

Who see him – {he doesn’t see?}

Not everyone has entrée to him

Since the painted shell began to rule us.

Now our country has gone down

The same way of his failed health.

The apparition has become vanishing dew

And a great mystery of our time.

© Odimegwu Onwumere; May 8 2017.

Email: apoet_25@yahoo.com

 

Suicide Doctor {POEM}

By Odimegwu Onwumere

Such a decision is rare to make –

Only to those who use their brevity in the negative.

There is always a time in life

When the enemies cease fighting.

There is always a time in life

When times suppress and surpass every situation.

If the Medical Doctor had known,

He wouldn’t have made himself a prey for the lagoon.

There is always a period of convalescence.

It’s on March Nineteen, Two Thousand and Seventeen;

After this day, the tribute he is getting is blame, blame and blame.

Whatever that bothered him to feed the fish of the lagoon with his body

Many of us had committed suicide many times in our hearts

But didn’t take our lives.

No man is a Sequoia; life is serendipitous!

He was a brave man in the negative energy

Who didn’t think twice and explore

His future positive potentialities.

For him to take his own life

Meant he could have explored

And moved away from all challenges

If little patience was applied.

Regrettably, he has taken his own life

But didn’t take with him

The difficulties and challenges

That led to him taking his life.

It’s high time man thought twice, at least, for a moment!

©Odimegwu Onwumere; March 21 2017.

Email: apoet_25@yahoo.com

Capital Oil {POEM}

By Odimegwu Onwumere

They have shifted their incessant blame

For their failure to perform to Capital Oil

When their capital offense is ruling with lies.

They started their journey with lies,

Promised us of Change

And we hoped for a better future than we had

But were thrown into decades of woes

Just in one year…

They blamed the man,

Not the government, they succeeded

As the architect of their problem.

We shouted of recession,

But they told the glebe that we were lying,

That we were feeding better than ever.

When they later agreed on what we said,

They said different things at the same time:

“The citizens would soon get out of recession!”

“The recession is out of President’s control!”

We do not know what to believe as truth

As this journey against Capital Oil

May be another gimmick they are known for.

©Odimegwu Onwumere; March 18 2017.

Email: apoet_25@yahoo.com

When You See Violet {POEM}

By Odimegwu Onwumere
When you see Violet

Do not violet her beauty,

Just greet her for me.
She is a village sister

Married to a distant village brother.
Hope he sees her charming teeth,

Gapped at the top?
Hope he sees her smile,

Glimmering like a clattering gun?
Hope he sees her heart

Habouring kindness and happiness?
Hope he sees her comely and homely self,

She disposes without bounds?
Her kindness is immeasurable

With receptive disposition,

Outlook,

temperament,

personality…

As she sits at her 24Hours Boutique

Disposing these features 24 hours.
Will you greet Violet for me when you see her?
©Odimegwu Onwumere; March 18 2017.

Email: apoet_25@yahoo.com

Corruption {POEM}

By Odimegwu Onwumere

We have become the haunted

In their elusive fight against corruption;

The corruption we did not elect them for,

Or they rigged themselves in to indulge?

Our wailing is deafening

And no parameter can measure our tears

Caused by their self-inflicted peril on us

As every commodity skyrockets in the mall

Just as money to have them saunters.

We watch them fight corruption

With our physique compressing in hunger

And they deafen our ears with white-lies

That we would soon get out of the self-inflicted peril

Whereas the hope they raise is nowhere in sight.

©Odimegwu Onwumere; March 18 2017.