Welcome to the Muse…
The following poems and more can be found on the blog section of this website.

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.

Flames around me
Tears trickling my socket
Stench of sulphur
and marauding hallow
of imps and demons
There beyond years
I cried unquenched
Flashes of lightning
as he speaks blasphemy
Wobbles of eels
flows through my cavity
Like Holocaust and sharp pricks
Before such fate
I lost my soul to shame
He – blazing in flames
and comely in eyes
Speaks words of bargain
Set me free
Cause I know his name
Amazing grace it is
to feel a second chance
Amazing grace still heals
If you give Jesus Christ a chance.

On Eke day at the stream
Your laps glow in the sun
Deep in the river I saw
A water goddess with clay pot
So I lost my heart.
On Orie day I saw you
At the bush path near the stream
So i gave you udala
That reminds of the fullness of your breast
At the sight of your face it fell down.
On Afor day I took you out
For the moonlight game
Where we showed the moon and stars
Our love story – by chance your covering fell
Seeing you bare was a gift.
So on Nkwo day – kolanut and palm-wine
Told your father my love
So this time – I was there
For you in smiles and you blush
At the four market days of our love.