Short Bread {Poem}

By Odimegwu Onwumere

Her heart was bought with short bread some years back
when love was administered under the shades of moonlight
the dark was the toast and witness of a burning passion.

Pear and fruits were the best of gifts to woe her tendril heart
with few words laced with inconsequential statements
each understood what the other verb-oozed
and passion was as holy as the sacrament of cathedral attendees.

Many bodies pulled down the bush paths and farms
in a quest to taste the woven honey comb
when seeing a lad and lass together was characterised by sin.

Parents frowned at such company, lads and lasses
were separated in the classrooms but not their hearts.

The dignity of a lady was held in highest esteem
men climbed mountains against their dignity for her
and love was later crushed on the altar of civilisation
and now, short bread cannot win her heart but short cut.

*Odimegwu Onwumere*

May 16 2019

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Hijacked Morality {poem}

Hijacked Morality

We had Igbo values, ethics, norms…

Our people behaved very well.

Morality and good consciousness

Were at their expedient.

We were not Abrahamic religionists

To be hyper-moral people.

Today, Alas!!!

One Arthur C. Clarke says:

“One of the greatest tragedies

in mankind’s entire history may be that

morality was hijacked by religion.”

These religions hijacked the original,

gave us broken China.

And a Chinua Achebe says:

“Things Fall Apart”.

(c) Odimegwu Onwumere; Jan. 27 2019.

#IgboSpirituality

{POEM} Eyes Inside Of Her

This pix was culled online to demonstrate the poem and the poem doesn’t in any way mean the pix

By Odimegwu Onwumere

His eyes are inside of her
as his heart is half-full
as she wriggles her waist.

The moon turned to sun
and his heart choruses different tunes.

She disappeared from his sight
but his eyes have undressed her
without a touch of her beauty self.

(c) Dec. 22 2018; Odimegwu Onwumere

{poem} They Spoke Our Mind

By Odimegwu Onwumere

They spoke our mind,
Them that cross carpeted
From a lost hope
Hoping to rebuild their new hope.
They moved in anger
Leaving the angrymaker alone
Who now justifies his shame
In a shenanigan’s speech
Sewing and drawing self pity
But we knew his garb is hypocrisy.
They cross carpeted within
Looking for respite
When many of us are drowning
In Mediterranean Sea
For want of new lease of life
From shenaniganism he calls leadership.
A town isn’t finished
When their king is finished
But when the people are finished.
Their genuflection shows a finished one
Who now does hurried and senseless speech
Thinking he would heal our wounds
He inflicted but we know better – we
They spoke their mind.

(c) Odimegwu Onwumere
July 25 2018.

Their Fight Yet To Start

By Odimegwu Onwumere

Adam had shame before Eve,
Not Adams with autocratic voice,
Clattering like the one from Daura
That learned undemocratic tenets
Now leading a democratic country
With scorpions and arrows
Humiliating institutions ought
To checkmate him.
Their fight is yet to start
With thunder rehearsing its sound
To unleash to a country
Being led by vultures and jackals
Throwing Aso Rock at us.
Their fight is yet to start.
We are just hearing their voice
Yet to see blood and wounds
Then would our tears dry.
We, they have hypnotised
With failed promises
And undemocratic principles.

(c) Odimegwu Onwumere
July 25 2018.

[poem} Oyigbo On September 12

By Odimegwu Onwumere

{Scene of IPOB protests}

The orgy of messages has been received in Oyigbo:

Some vehicles cremated, human grievance still mountaining.

The streets are littered with baked chaos,

Stern-looking agents from Aso-Ruse watch in apprehension.

Biafra protesters clamour for freedom

Adjacent-to the craving of the man from Daura;

Who fancies their blood sponged-down the ocean

In lure of freedom he sees as a taboo.

Men are drinking coffee to expunge sleep

Yet, sleep befalls them like a possessed by malaria.

There is nowhere to lay the sleeping head

In a land where soul and body are shoddily severed.

Certainly, everyone is un-free

Except for supernatural empathy.

©Odimegwu Onwumere; September 13 2017.

Email: apoet_25@yahoo.com

{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