3 poems by Ndubisi Otolokpo


On a round table

On a round table
They sought out the hands of our band masters
For dialogue. Masters in whom’s back we
Gathered courage to make noises which sounded
In the sheer hollowness of the wolves ear,
Over our barren land and polluted water
We matched down the streets, nooks and cranny
With song of emancipation
To restore our motherland and dreams lost in day time.

On a round table
Our band masters broke the oath of allegiance.
Our voice rest in silence as we watch them
Speak in forked tongues
And with painted words, they keep the words
Of promise to our ears and break it to our hope
Then we realize we were without warriors.

On a round table
We lost it all, the tumult and shouting died
Bands are gone
More shall still come.

It is over

It is over, but here it comes.
Necessary evil, of which we show our stoutness.
You must believe it when it is shelling.
All berserk. Stand for a just course. For survival
With no meaning. Ravaged by kwashiorkor.
In malee we run empty handed, slaughtered
With hideous cruelty. Deaf doomed by the cries of
Birds that mute on us.
Our land becomes fertile with our blood
With nothing we come to the end
All telling tales of outrageous stories.

Forward Child

What can do?
Innocent Guttersnipe. Who
For times knows sore
constantly on the verge of tease.

Who am i?
I said to myself as
I wrestle through the nights
Of doubt and sorrow over my fate,

Of bright promises of
My early days.
Who am I?
Voice rend the air

Press onwards to the sky.
With wounded feet I stand,
To reach forth those which
Are before and let go all behind

The battle, now, I fear not.
Opt never to stand still
At the slipping up hills.
Who am i?

The forward child.
Who knows no defeat
I neither see or hear you
The gift in me I must stir

Light, now I see
Scube across the sky
For soon shall every tears
Be dry and all I failed to win.

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