CULDESAC

In the dark their mire
And round and round they astir
Right in their centre: the bonfire
Like the full moon they inspire
Their songs so unusual and weird
But, are you not supposed to be
In class tomorrow?

Father says no money in the bank
Mother has nothing to sell, not even a plank
Yet in the opaque you played prank
Singing invectives without being frank
The pipers need no money to change track
But is it the reason why you are here?

Are you not the dogs
Who claim to be gods?
Hail all frats, they are giants
Lecturers must be lynched
Beat us or join us
For united has fallen and divided erected

They catch other scholars by pell-mell
Who thought they were icicles
The yeomen receive more bomb than Hiroshima
Why wont the Overlords laugh
At the other side of their faces
They must laugh the laugh of pity and pain.

Why is the vulture
Scavenging for brothers" blood?
But you came for the same course.
We will nip them the next night
They now look lull and woodenly woozy
But, O" gun, where is thy power right now?


We are as tall as Mt. Everest
Yet, we are more murky than mud
Our thumbs are kings
When they pull the death cursor
That ooze out the end time ululation
See them on the ground, werent they anti us?

(Judgment day)
But why did you do it?
We are sorry, guard.
You are not mad
But we are bad
And only but now sad
The coven is abolished

Only one score and one
There is no light at the end of the tunnel
That one way tunnel that leads nowhere.

CELL TELECOM

(Prophet)
Behold; a saviour commeth!
A saviour that will boost inter-personal comm
Cheaper than "pure water"
It will bless every mouth with garrulity.

(Saviour)
Behold I am here
See me in pockets of lads
And in hand bags of ladies
They are building bungalows for me in ghetto.

Behold I herald carrot and cain
On your steering I sat
Getting your tyres screeching and crying
Painting your plates with pure red.

Speak hurry I must tickle away!
I am cheap and a cheat
Am I not in your orchard for pence?
But I shall curse your account.

Behold: am I not the saviour?
That you cling to your auditory lobe?
I saw your access digits coursing through
Why do you now brand me a bankrupter?

Behold, who else is the saviour?
If not the borer of that hollowful hole in your pocket
Think I make you glee: in wicked happiness.?

"General Stick of Madness"
Is my other nomenclature
I now taste like sour grapes
But I still give you tunes and beeps.

I come to impede and to stampede
My revert begets your closed coffer
Banishing your bans into a dungeon
Behold: a blissful and bountiful
Famine awaits you.

(Saviour, annoyed)
when Elijah heralded my waddling
I beheld your thirty-two set
When I recur at last without calling
You rushed me without a bet.

Now you stare at me with disdain
Did I by myself requite?
Why now you scold at me
And call me a Baal and no Saviour? 

THEY ARE THE GOOD LEADERS

They are the good leaders
There is no doubt about that
And the reason why they are our lovers
Is the way they slash our national account
Whisking its contents to Swiss.

We adore their zest
For the way the sniffers
Kept proliferating our foreign virulent
Yet they are our saviours
At least they claim to be that.

Upon our treasuries they throw fetes
All day and all night long
Owambe Sirs!
They celebrate with booze and barbeque
That take the lone route to their pot bellies.

Sir, money no dey finish
When they return to the stream
The water is ever flowing
They scoop some more of it
Never! The fountain cant seize shedding.

They all posses bellies that are fattened
And they like flowing in gowns
Gowns that are wider than parachute
They are always in a hurry to forget
What they had promised.

They like touring the moon
Everyday of the week
As if that will change our mourn
They do this to peak
Leaving us with nothing but spurn.


They are the good leaders,
Who are less hospital
But more hostile to their followers
Such familiar strangers to all.
Will never be our familiar friends.

They are the good leaders
Of course they have choir too
Every Pentecostal pastor is choir master
They sing songs of eulogies to them
Preachers preaching pro politicians profiles.

When the praise singers extol them,
They sun their misarrangement
Like hopeless "mallams"
But why wont they stop singing the anthem?

For sure, they are good leaders
Who invented privatization
The system sold the nations birth right
Thereby depriving the nation.
The boast of public corperation
Has become a will-o-the-wisp.

Their Operation Feed the Nation
Did only their families fair
No benefit to the man in the street
Who has been spilling his tears
Like the oil that spills in his community.

We are not the only ones affected
Our Siamese in the continent
Are also incapacitated and thwarted
By their own good leaders
But one day all leaders will be led

These people are our good leaders
So I dont understand
Why flippanterers keep saying:
They are bad leaders.

  THE WEB

With putrid pictures painted profane
A new babe is born
In the web of the goggle box,
That must not be defined
Because good and bad crawl there
In it, the globe is a subsistence clan
Like the cursor of Iran and Iraq war
The story behind the tech is unclear.

Please paint pictures porno,
Browse, browse and browse, ethics is out
The memo must be glimpsed
Enter www at blue dot com
All the real copies are soft,
Even the junk mails are real
Give me a second or two
The veil slids away from the picture
What? My eyes have seen my ears!

Who really created that web?
Who is it for, you or I?
There must be a rethink
How can such menace be loose on air?
What if it is breathed in by curious kids

For so long now,
White wizards give us joys and pains
Thick and thin, bread and dread
This one is bad,
I swear, it is worse than worst.

All night browsing is the gimmick
Who ever hearkens to its call
Wears a cloak to hide
Before the cock crows
They must leave with clogged eyes
Their libido elasticity near breaking
They laugh still and go away gay.

What we feel we need
Is what we fell to see
There must be leisure in it
"Cos rife is all the games, inside
Just as the clock tickles,
So your pocket thickens less,
You must pay as you go
Punch, play and practice
You are rich now,
Later you shall be poor
Then you end up wretched.

Truly not a bad invention,
Of course through it
A million have been saved
Manipulating communication in a jiffy
Fostering global network
We welcomed it with big hugs
Then someone added a bad free-for-all site
To make nonsense of the World Wide Web
Now there is mixed feelings towards it
Can anyone bell the cat? 

POVERTY

Dont move!
I thought I heard noise
Just a single noise brought me
Face to face with reality
Mother in the kitchen
A little thunder, BOOM!
A small lightning, FLASH!
Our thatched roof in the farm gave in
In the heat of the moment, knife cuts father
It got him on his left shin
He went down with the rubbles
Red blood dripping all over the raffia
The drizzles pour into the farm hut
To chase father out.

Only but hours,
Father was home
With blood stained trousers
That was white when he left
Oh God of wealth
Where have you gone?
Why cant we be like neigbours?
Who live in block houses
How funny can life be?
I pray for a block house
And a television
Things look as if no change could come
Like fishes breed in water
We look more, we see less

Life itself is worse than imagined
I only saw father at night
A.M. he moves, P.M. he returns
Father doesnt work all day
Eight hours on the road to work
All sacrificed by foot
The same foot hardly tested new shoes
With the additional burden of bandage
He must trek on
On the road, his eyes are agape

On return, sometimes no dinner is served
Father must go to bed hungry
I even miss dinner sometimes
Not once, not thrice
I am at home all day, yet I miss it
I was young, my growth stunted
The young shall grow is a fallacy
No change for the better
The farm was my school
My teacher was mother
Our condition wasnt too bad
Better than some families in Ethiopia.
Our New Age pastor says:
Poverty is a sin
Another time, he says
Money is the root of all evil
I understand no longer
Should I remain a sinner or become evil?