Poetry

Musing: Countryside 

                         

                              

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I am hidden in the thickly wooded forest land

Tucked away in a pocket of land in the countryside



Green paradise, constantly drenched in the Rain; 

The august visitor, which comes when she wills;

And desires to make the clouds dark, the day solemn

To keep the warmth from all the hamlet, farm and hill


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The sun is hidden above the tree leaves and branches 

Underneath the woods; life goes on, life continues


The airs are sweet, amazing, a healing surge

Fires are made to keep the treacherous cold away

In clear contrast of it all, heat or cold, not to dodge

Admonitions, words, messages are never to go astray



For the countryside can be a darling or a demon 

A companion or a disaster, with or without

Tucked away in a pocket of land in the countryside

Just underneath the woods; life goes on, life continues 

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Poetry

Rain on the Window 

I love the sound of the rain when it hits the windows
When the multitude descend down from the Heavens

Splattering, hitting the Earths crust, smashing the clay 

Throwing up sweet scents, one unaccustomed to man

The sounds create a regular rhythm which sings a lullaby

Soothing are the rains words, mild are her amazing airs

The waters fall on the glasses, merging into balls which sigh, 

Silently, they rush off the glass in ecstatic and joyful haste

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Muse: Midnights

Midnights are caricatures of dreams
Like the quick mist upon the morning
Licking the forest tree lines and city skylines
Sometimes it stands like a smoke phantom with a dagger
And mouth wide agape as like a dying strangled cockerel

Sometimes they come airy, with mild words, softer
Maybe with some rain, which makes all even milder
The lullabies play on the roof top, the rain drums

It celebrate the nights quietness, the rain and her wind
And mostly, to the fatigued and snoring worker,
Who in the rains benevolence, a solace find

Nature

Darkness falls

Darkness falls…

The cries of night wolves and wild dogs
Rent the airs far away deep in the forest
The wind grew milder, the moon light brighter
And the sweet lullabies ring out from homes
A tradition, one which the little ones adore
The evening simmer into a deep darkness
As the African tales went on, on bedsides

So went the day, in this quiet hamlet

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Okechukwu’s Haiku

The night came and went, but we are awake to Gods call
Though the night brought darkness and bricks of wall
To everyone, men and women, great or small
Yet the love of God wakes with us to perfect us all

Good morning from Africa!

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The Shepherds Tale

The day ends with a big stress for David
But to him, this was not any challenge
As he walked thru the hamlet, near an inn,
‘Hello David! Come have a drink with men,
Come and have some fun , will ya?’
A soldier yelled as David passed by
‘Oh no sire, I will be late for dinner.
My brothers just came back
From the ranks for some family time
I better be going for night falls…’
The soldier grunted a good bye,
‘Alright, anyone seen this huge Philistine?
They say he has got two heads…!’
The soldier was talking with his colleagues
And Davids ears picked that up… two heads!
What manner of man will he be?
David shrugged, he wasnt meant to fear
David called out to his sheep, whistling softly
As they gather together, running towards home
Bleating joyfully over a full stomach of rye
On the door of the caravan…
David could hear his brothers voices talk
Happy memories flood fast back to him
And he quickly locked the barn doors
Patting his favorite sheep, as they nod
‘Halo there! Look at you, all grown!
Aww, is that a moustache, is that?’ Elihu said
‘Come here, little brother… Come have a sit’
The taciturn Abinadai said happily
David bowed before his brothers
And walked in, leaning his shepherd stick
Upon the wall by the window side
‘Tell me about your sheep and eh everything’
Elihu said, looking mockingly at David
‘Oh the sheep! They are awesome!
They are cute and absolutely pretty
I like most the feel of their grey tongues
When they lick off the grass from my palms
I have killed a hungry bear and scared off a lion
When I take the sheep grazing, the sun shine
Look brothers, I learnt the harp while at the fields
The smell of the grass in the early mornings, ah!
That I can not equally describe’ David rapped
The look of disgust fills his brothers faces
As they looked at each other over the table
‘Well I must commend your efforts David,
But we missed your absolute nonsense
Hope you become a man soon enough
And here is a toast to our little brother!’
So saying Elihu raised a mug of wine
And the brothers joined to drink to Davids health

Laying on the bed, David clutched his pillow
Looking thru the window towards the barn
Up the dark skies, as the moon shone
To where his humble sheep lay asleep
He dozed off, smiling at the thought of his sheep
Dreaming that one day he will care for his people, Israel
The same way God made him tend to his fathers sheep

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…To memories

Now I smile back to my paper smileys
Re-living my hopeful memories
Life sometimes may seem confusing,
But you just have to smile and live on
And on my books I draw for myself happy faces

The memories of pain or joy;
Are part of human existence
Why is there love and hate,
Why is there sugar and salt,
Why is there water and earth,
Why David and Goliath,
Why victory and defeat,
And why is life and death?

Help the people in your life
Expect nothing in return
Love, care, provide for people…
Let God use you to wipe tears
To be an angel to someone
Do not let go, this may be your gift
Be contented- look to the brighter side
For in doing this, you will find joy

I have realized that in my stay with self
That ideas filtered in more easily
And mercies and dreams grow bigger
There is a great power directing me,
Giving me the strength never to lose faith
The power of my loving God
I have never achieved this with the crowd

An elder friend once told me
‘Never belittle yourself to any man or woman’
Surely, my hopes rise when I do it all alone
‘People always want to eat their cake and have it
And as for love that comes in several bundles,
Do not let anyone play with your feelings…’

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The Messenger, part 2

The dark evening is serene and calm
Though the vampire bats hover up the skies
And the little crickets quiz all around…

Many sat for dinner for it was a long day
The farms, the ponds and the big market
The smell of dried cod soup pass thru the air,
It was a favorite among the villagers
And this smell always gave away people
For the village longthroats, a feast is imminent
But it is a pleasant smell, one I savor so much
Now and then, we hear someone yawn heavily
From nearby compounds, I assume it was out of tiredness
Sometimes the moon came out, sometimes it didn’t
When the moon came out, the children gather for moon-lit plays;
Hide and Seek, Sand games or a nice folk tale
To be told by the most elderly in the gathering

Soon the blast of a metal gong goes off
”Kookokoorokom… Koorokoorokom…!”
The hamlet retires to great silence
Crying babies stay put suddenly
For the masquerades of which Maama
Always spoke of has now appeared!
Even Maama was quiet, perhaps scared
For she also paid attention to the intruder
”The people of Amaigbo, the elders, the men
The women, the youth, the boys, the girls, everyone!
Listen, I have come oo… I have come again oo!”
The messenger will call out, loudly
Waking sleeping dogs and the heavy sleepers
With those words the messenger struck again
Mercilessly upon his metal gong, two more…
Then he settled into his long message…
Beating the metal gong on intervals,
It could be about the new yam festival
A special village or Kings service request
Cleaning of the nearby streams and rivulets
Or when a group of peoples attention is required

When the messenger exhausts his messages
He leaves quietly, hitting his gong noiselessly
Allowing the hamlet to go back to her life,
The women to return their attention to the soup
The men to continue sipping their palmwine
The boys and girls playing under the tree shed
And allowing the infants to resume their crying

Commentary.
This is a continuation of a poem I wrote some years ago. The messenger or town crier, as commonly called is an agent of the traditional society or kingdom. His role is to pass information across to the people, just like the duties of the modern day TeeVee or Radio.

KoKorokrom… A sound made by hitting the metal gong.
Amaigbo… An imagined place