by Odimegwu Onwumere
Published on: Apr 8, 2007
Topic:
Type: Poetry

Odimegwu Onwumere's concept: One thing about writers, they do not realise that history, events, circulation, truth, time etc. are entrusted into their hand. Though, I may not have liked Audu Ogbe, but for having shown the hap qualities found in the corridors of power, I was compelled to add this poem to up-grade his valour, which is hazardous. But writers' conscience always lives.

The Saint from the Broad-Road

The tortoise carried by the kite
The villagers gathered in dismay
A strange thing has happened
In the land
What shall be done for panacea?

Another story,
The news was hushed by the villagers
Preventing it from becoming a public knowledge
They tried unsuccessfully like a hummingbird
When a man stood to halloo the event
Avoiding ricochet of doom before dusk
They said he should be hounded from the village
For saying the truth for the posterity of the unborn?
For not allowing strange things be habitual in the land?
For not continuing havering unconventional things
Detested even by Man and Nature?
And they said he is also a dissident !

A dissident, like death
Is sometimes for cosmic good
Like Abacha, Doe died
And drums were tom-tomed

Some infidels are for progress
Like Soyinka was quoded, to breach war
Like Saro-Wiwa was hanged, for Ogoni betterment
Like Audu Ogbe said the truth
That People Debase People should stop

Treasure 'base' of the nation, is halve!
First, the ones whose wealth
are the treasure of the populace.
Second, those whose tears are today,
are the cause of the looters'
The blessed people became
the blasphemed people.
Rage, Cannibals exalts on daily basis
travelling abroad, with their loots, our anguish
became their culture

Culture in the community of writers'
So Paul's epistle to the Romans:
'Now if I do that which I would not,
it is no more I that do it,
but sin that dwells in me.'
Which a writer is a prophet!

Democracy is not fake,
And that in our land in not fake? None existing.

Wonder,
It is only in the Church and Mosque
That people think moral life
could be found,
But if half of them could incline ears
To writers' writs, like His
This place would be a sanctified place

Vampires have turned men;
Sucking of bloods and confusion, they hunger
Prayers and Morals are pinned to the ground
Seeming unworkable because, supplicants are killed
Quest for power, many men sell Value
Enveloped with egoistic aura, shamefull !
Seven scores, man is meant to die----
Would eight, nine and ten scores
in despotic behaviours exalt man, after death?

They said of Reformations
Who's saying?
Who's hearing?
Who's reforming?
When Plutocracy is their major aim,
Which yields higgledy-piggledy situations
ill-Love household's holds
And the unborn child has known
And is even afraid to incarnate
To this Tittular-Opulence-Niger-Area

Like this it is that lettered men are
If an unwritten constitution is practiced
This place would have been sold,
even without a receipt,by the Gorgon?

The demock-crazy in our Polity
Has become an incarnation of Ecomog
imposed to make peace,
But became an opportunity for the
Demock-Rats to mime their democracy
Before the Millitary Fascists are left to die

The truthsayer,
He was persuasively made to dethrone.
O, why this confusion! If the elected
could see those who elected them
As twaddle, because of power?
They adjusts our constitution, for their usage
So that abdication of power will be invalid;
The fate of dictatorship is at glimpse
In a demock-ratic state,
Which difference is arms
Nothing remaind as it is lucid
Than to introduce Uniform in a civil rule;
Rainbow of many colours show in one....
one sign, different dangers

Love, he says, Love
Love, O' Love
The unity between Man & Almighty
Who have not heard about it?
A sheer word only peace brings
A word that heals the land than killing
A word that unites than money
A word that clears the heart
as hearth smelts the iron

Love, O' Love
Promiscuity, Lechery, philanderous
here and there and strong headed
are not the symbol of the Love!
These leads to infidelity, disobedience,
Disloyalty
Without sin being free from the practitioner(s)

We need you Love
where agape is supreme
Killing, assassination, Rigging, Looting,
Conspiracy, Scandalous, Vilification
are pinned to the ground.
Our Mentors being Mature
Our Conveners being not confusers
Our ground being our Grace

One thing hated by Love-
Niger-Area Czar
When people politically, economically
An socially unite to meet
On state issue against national peace?
When peace keepers
Die in wars, while their superiors
Becomes their benefactors
Than their next of kiths and Kins at home?
Just for one man,
Millions are spent, and energy also
Just for one bullet?
An assassin might not know his victim,
But his contractor knows the victim
Better than the death.
Where is Love ?

Love, O' Love
Which is the truth!
When a man rise with truth
Against some evil,
Some men pursue him with evil
Against the truth but,
With Love, fences are amended.
Who listens to this call !

The Truth

Men of God are many,
But true men of Christ are rare
As even my grand Pa
Was an eligible Man-of-God
Than some of these messengers
Who should be politic
But self crown they wear
That we derail for lack of 'good' example
And a truthful life; where are the seers?

The truth,
We are not fools
And our leaders are not making
Efforts to teach us, than confusion.
The patriots showcase confusions
Walking as if working for the populace
Rather are there ruining the Economy
of the populace

The Truthsayer,
May have learnt virtue
from polygamous descent
Challenging the odds of the Czar-less
That at the wake of doom,
No one could be a saint,
But they said his Witticism, is buffoonery?
But he saved his conscience, like the Ogoni Marxist
To be hounded out of the sin-full caliphate.

Soyinka, Osundare, Achebe
Voices the inhumane disadvantageous govt
But they're not heard;
But upon the givings of politics
He, the Truthsayer, couldn't compromise the evils
Than to say , a word, in writing, Peace
For sanctification of writer's conscience
So covetous to be free from evil
That this governance is of crack-pot
To avoid conflict in the stake

Upon that voice came up from the broad-road,
Which leads to destruction
He is now walking on the narrow-road,
which is so dank to trail on.
The kite still fly with the tortoise
A strange thing in the land,
When the doom will wake
the saint will be save from doom's reward,
But is it easy talking when devil is talking?

Who is next to say the truth
To the untrained millionaire farmer
Who feels proud with lack of knowledge?
The army General engineer
Now learning oratory skill
without the evolving of diphtongue
Rigging election he had PhD
Travelling from states to countries
without learning knowledge
The ones he learn
Are those of false advisers
Can the day be without sun?
The man ask the villagers
Who mop the kite carry the tortoise
The villagers gathered in dismay
while kite fly not far from their seeing
Is this not challenging?

Copyright 2005 Odimegwu Onwumere

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