The memories of the days of naked pride
and patriotism still linger though sour
the ancient city of creole pidgin accented
with people slant in their peculiarities and mannerism
Verbiage convoluted and sweet
Now dashed and fed by ethnic strife
The loots of the few garnished and fanned by unscrupulous deities,
A dream of crossroads and scratching blames,
that mediators become predated flames of discord
an antecedent of thugs dressed in garbs of follies.
Lost in her own futility
A bleak dawn
Eighty two days!
Such harmonious disintegration, becomes a child of necessity?
Our own vacuum of discord
The subtle prodding,
equivocation of the wild,
balanced and set without hitch, revealing nothing.
with countenance of distrust,
The disposition of trust as though a pathos of aroused passion,
Without tear drops or pains, was willed in strangled bliss.
The magnitude of nonchalance,
Curtailed in hypocritical oratory,
the inconsequential disparity
of pain in anguished acquisition,
yet embellished in fragrance of exception.
The explosion of bottled silence
shaking what foundation of stability.
The society’s excuse in diaspora
pushed along destructive flames, yearned by all and none.
What complacence steps
An oracle of hope,
belies animistic thought of persecution
Such thrill of ascending blames,
such discord of planned accord.
Rhetorics and guilt as our anus ache silently
Priding self in descending claims,
A portion black as coal,
reveals what pointers priced and packaged,
peeling pains pegged purposely.
Such pomposity of dirty words
Such treacherous flamboyance,
Such guilt assembled,
Tricks in seeming cunningness,
Spirited along dicey highways,
with adventurous wits and guts.
Wheels in antiquated decision,
clamping down from the arewa hills,
relishing products of will, in senseless precision.
An aloof pleasure, thoughts spool snakelike
threads unwinding, showing eccentricity of old age.
in profound inner solitude,
who steps aside.
Poems (c) Efeduma Eseoghene
Image: Vanguard Newspapers, Nigeria