GunterMoon

Boldness is a virtue, but I think of it as a curse

Bottled-belly children, all having camouflage dusty mud painted faces, whose body was generous with a pus

Break a woman’s heart compared to the sight she sees daily will earn you an applause

Bed-riden soldiers opened up without anaesthetic would earn a curse on the war cause

Running to and that fro in my compound like a rat surrounded by gaming lions was our unpalatable cross

Strands of hair are less obedient, snaps! When robbed, as robbing the days sweat off, with no moisturizer replaced by a membrane of mucus

An adult tortoise shell as head, a praying mantis hands – hands and legs and a belly like the size of an elephant was the one I carried on my laps at night, my baby, sleep well until I find a locust

Some laugh about this, but I cried much, for my tears can’t be dried

Since the world was silent when we died.

Truthfulness is a virtue, but I think of it as the cause of pain

Seeing my fertile cottage now turned into an extinct cinder black and dug, what did I gain?

The trauma, wails, maimed body of soldiers or should I say villain, oh! I really can’t forget the only remains of a loved one, full grown are the scattered whittish mucus of his brain

I Only know of me protecting my family, but my lad is here with me barricading the front, how I wish he was trained?

Can we ask for a better tar on our roads than our gallant sons and daughters blood stains?

If there was dignity in death, our sons and daughters would have been given befitting funeral, than being in the belly of vultures like picked grains

Even, after the war, my people still love greens, with this mark they still carry on, so to forget the agony of the war would be in vain

The battle is always won by those who are less humane, this I know, for it, my heart cried!

Truly the world was silent when we died.

Beads round her waist

Sounds of flesh and ceramic

Remains the fuse

Of juju and Afrobeat

The drum is tapped

In slow rhythm

The egogo is struck

In quick vibration

She wears a red regal

With immaculate hanky

She swirls the air

Thunder goes up

In sound

She dance before

The calabash with bead

Sending a rhythm of trio

She walks to me

Sending a smile

She raises her strength

Till flings of beads

Erupt striking her waist

As it swirls like a potters-wheel

She is a beauty

Omose gbe

Her skin glow

Like the sun on gold

Her teeth is pure

Like the water through a rock

Her chest is covered

like corn behind it’s cloth

Her face is curved

Like those statue

Sculpt by Ojogun

Lare uvbinekhi

Lare – to stay beside

Till your waist rhythm

Replaces my heartbeat

Come today

And tell me the truth

Of the mystery of the bead

Does it build your waist

Into heaps of hips?

Or it charms me?

Till i hallucinate

Of you and me

In nakedness and love making

Beauty and the Edo’s

Is same as the heart and love.

Would you be kind enough

to smile today

Would you be kind enough

to be you no matter what they say

Would you be kind enough

to rule the world and still pray

Would you be kind enough

to tell all that you are just a clay

Would you be kind enough

to feed the hungry each day

Would you be kind enough

to do the good in your heart come what may

Would you be kind enough!!

Would you be kind enough

to spend time with family in play

Would you be kind enough

to stand in conviction even with no way

Would you be kind enough

to chase your dreams with each ray

Would you be kind enough

to hold your tongue to avoid it’s slay

Would you be kind enough

to be the heat in this cold world

Would you be kind enough

to fall in love

If you are kind enough

you will be the eyes of the blind in us.