I heard the call of the river nun;
And I heard you call river bird.
I dress back my bones where they’re broken
And add it up with the broken piece
Broken bones shall rise again?
So they said, the sun has set forth
The new moon is out in the plains
But, broken bones can’t be made whole
It was written in the beginning
The lizard’s already climbing walls
The wuss continues in a woop
And a tide washing away the riparian sands.
The canal drop of burger bolts
Cutting her thickets in every courtyard
In a Harlem night, we sense the cobs of plodders.
Naked gods hanging day.
The last ship sailing Pakistanian seas
Free floating dark waters of the world
We jump in a nocturnal flight
Hanging wings remotely.
I heard your voice
And i heard you call
I heard you singing another song
Stained in rust coat
Rome isn’t built in a day
Who calls Hitler, Na’aman,
And Usna’s children, sons of God
The stubborn goat, equally ram the places
Washed to stainless memories.
The pure water sack reads change
But, the water taste same
Rivers must flow,
And pull away dark waters
Back to the early ends
Here, it bring back tides
Only the bees have their flowers
The cassava suffers a mosaic
It blights to the centrepiece.
I am a still pond without a fish
My hair blonde in mystic air
Your call is rich in rhyme
It continues like a riff
Following beats after beats
Like rap songs in motion.
The wind tucked in
Shirtsleeve through windows
Iron doors closing in on us
We are locked from the outside all night long.
Poems © Ogana D. Okpah
Image (c) Marfis75 via Flickr