Poetry

 Job Hunting is a Job

 
I’d rather be just tired and not tired and bored, exhausted from the activity of nothing. And I used to think when people say busy doing nothing was a joke. My days are swallowed by the whale of idleness and in this large sea of whales I recognize a thousand like me, I would say hello but my lips are too tired from saying nothing. Social media is our meeting point, Twitter with her gist; thank you Sub Delivery Man, Woke Twitter and angry feminists stop making our playground a melting pot of ticking bombs. Snapchat with her stories.

 I am a moving devil’s workshop but the arms of my empty pockets have restrained me from hatching my plans. My people would have to wait before I gather the courage to once again ask dissatisfied parents for more money to come see them. Agba la gba like me their eyes say as my father wires money to my Sahara desert of an account. 

When will my life start? Time greets me cheerily with each passing second and my stoic face nods in tune to her song.  

Somewhere far in my wonderland, I see the cars to come with the matching wardrobe that cockroaches don’t feed on, shoes that have not tasted almost every area in Lagos in my hunt of a job and a phone I don’t have to coax into staying on. Under my pillar of pillows and blanket, I hear what sounds like my phone ring, the urgency and speed I muster to pick that call, Usain Bolt has nothing on it. It may be that job, the one millionth one I was told “we would get back to you”. And I don’t even have credit or money to buy credit to call that person back.

News Flash; It is not them. It is not that office that promised me a call back neither is it those ones that smiled widely and said “you would hear from us soon.”

It is my aunt of many years long forgotten, the pleasantries are a good foundation for the question that is coming, I can feel it, my bones are prepared and my mind knows what is next, but when she spews forth the lava that attacks me and my fellow job seeking colleagues I am surprised into a three-second-silence.

Let me make something clear, we are not jobless, job hunting is as tedious as any job in this world, we are hunters just not with guns but with beautifully crafted CVs in all manners of fonts and sizes ready to storm the world with the remnants of knowledge we crammed in school to pass exams. 

 “Omalicha” she calls me; like what is Omalicha about my life now, “what are you doing now?” Ah!!!!! Why? Then the stuttering and head scratching begin.  I slowly whisper “nothing”|Then she utters a prayer, like that is the thing that would provide me with a job
"Greet your mummy for me"
Don't you have her number? Still she didn't ask for my account number. Evil relatives.

The last time a potential employer asked me this across the phone while doing my exercise routine, like the stupid girl I am, I replied “I am working out” I could hear the smile in his voice that is when I knew my CV shall be used to sell Puff Puff. Then he reiterated the question, I answered appropriately this time. But…

Couldn’t this woman have asked me to send my account number? Why this question that has no answer?  If I had gotten a job I would have published it in the papers, how else do you announce such a great miracle. Finding something a thousand and one people are looking for is a miracle,

My answer to this very ambiguous and yet pointed question is nothing, in my twenty something life at this twenty something age, I am doing nothing.

Proudly without shame I stand at the top of my imaginary mountain my kinky stubborn hair doing what natural African hair does in the wind, my arms spread out and my legs in unison to the stretching of my arms. I am yelling “my name is Adaora, my occupation is nothing. I have no experience because I don’t know where they sell it all I have is certification, edakun, biko give me a job.” This might work since going for interviews have failed me.  

@nkemoyaghire

 

 

 

 

 

Dreams are not Battlefields

So you think you love him,

He makes you tingle in all the right places

And he springs you up from your abysses.

He is all the clichés that comes with the feeling of love,

Sweeping you in a whirlwind of fantasies may come true.

But I hear you from your sleep; things that don’t sound like love escape with your dreams.

His name is followed by; no, stop, please and I am sorry, I won’t do it again and sometimes you are silent but your trashes in your bed keep me up.

Who is this demon that ruins your dreams and gives me sleepless nights? 

Why do you battle him where you can’t win?

We know your mind won’t stop him and dreams are not battlefields,   

You say you love him but love doesn’t come with bruises.

You have new birth marks that hurt when you move too fast and your eyes are forever watery.

I know love is supposed to be painful but in a delightful way,

A pain that can be erased by the sound of his voice or the notification of a message that says “hello princess”.

Not a pain that requires a doctor’s visit and the proper application of MAC Pro.

Honey, I know you love him but your image of love is askew,

Convoluted by the desperation of your loneliness.

Step away, throw yourself out of it and you will see that being in your own company doesn’t hurt as much. 

Nkem Oyaghire

 

I Forgive You.

I forgive you;

For the girls before me.

I see traces of them in you.

Little particles of dust on a window pane.

You miss them, I know you do.

In me you see a sliver of what you had.

Their presence in your life

Was exercise for my arrival.

A path you had to walk,

To better understand how your kingdom

Should be run.

Welcome home,

Your dusty soul

Tells of travels to places you had no right to step your feet in.

Let me kiss you and

Clean out the taste of those girls.

Come sit in your throne;

On my thighs will I straddle you.

They are cold from waiting too long.

Nkem Oyaghire

Weary

Today I saw my first love

In a cafe with overpriced cupcakes

And strange ice cream.

He looked well and my eyes who are

Trained to stare at him

Refuted their training and stared at a wall.

In the midst of four people and the blare of great music

My heart thumped to the beat of

Each song.

I danced and batted my eyelids

Grasped his hands when unnecessary

And force fed him.

With each touch from sweaty palms

I dreamt of what can be.

With each force of feed

I wondered why he fights us.

Later that night in the midst

Of conversations that spanned from Illupeju to Okota.

The connection of MTN to GLO

I called a friend turned sister.

What we do all the time repeated itself

A congress on the men we love and those who love us.

It was my turn and

We discussed him

Dissected the reasons I won't let go

Trying to understand my choice to remain on a ship that had long sailed.

How do I explain that no other compares.

Every other one is a shadow in his light.

My aimless wanderings into the hearts of men,

Men who are weary and tired

Who have permanent tenants and have no room to spare.

Men who are hollow just like me.

Dabbling in the idea that I could try to love then.

The problem is

I sold my heart and my buyer won't give it back.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 Let's try it again

You know, throw ourselves

Into that we both fear.

Armed with the knowledge of our doom

This time

A little lesser of ourselves is all we need.

I will be less mean

You can be less vague.

Repeating our classes on each other.

Baptising ourselves in the folly of our existence.

We should be sore from retrying and failing.

Allow me to do that which you love,

Let me tickle all your fun places

I want to be your enigma

Let me rearrange your world,

Allow me to make you a believer

I will let you turn me into sin.

Let us try it again.

A little lesser of ourselves

And the more we hid

Shall spill, flooding

The sanity we both despise.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

Nne

Nkonye she calls me;

Possessively owning me.

Placing powdery lips on my forehead

I push our chests closer together

As I wrap my arms around a skin of tyre.

My mother of two generations ago.

Whispers prayers in a language we don't share.

Nodding in affirmation to familiar sounds

That my brain can't interpret.

Her eyes dim in concentration

An attempt to string words I know

Is futile.

Her papery brown skin with patches of black coupled with

The hint of a tattoo, peeking from her sleeve

Speaks of a history I will never know.

When I look at her, I see me in fifty years

The manifestation of love carried over from generations.

The epitome of experience is in my arms

We share more than we aware of.

Our difference of time spent here;

Foreign tongues and conflicting ideologies

With our eyes that view people differently

Hide our sameness.

Nne I call her,

My twin who came years too early.

Would soon leave me

In the wake of dust to dust.

And I shall have none of her wisdom for

My wicked tongue refused to bend and know that which she understands.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 Divorce

Last night my mother called;

"I have left your father" she said.

In that instant my fragile life cracked

But her voice stronger than never

Her resolve obvious

I knew she was serious.

In his defence;

"But you love him" I said.

"Love is subjective" Mama Michelle.

I had a dream of them

Of things he did

And of that she hid.

Images my mind had thrown away;

Grainy like android videos on Snap chat

Yelling of adult voices

The kiss of a fist against a face

I just can't see whose face clearly

My dream is foggy

My mother left my father

With that she told me

All I had wondered for years.

There is only so much

Love will give you.

It’s not a genie or a god

It won't change him

Love is merely anesthetic

For as long as you let it.

Eventually you either wake up

Or you die under.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

 

 Love in Traffic

There was a collision of eyes;

Within the traffic of third mainland bridge.

In the festering heat and the clap of a fan with hot air.

Amidst the silent wails of weary people mixed with

Loud complaints of buttocks tucked for too long.

The swish of cotton against wool-

Begs the question of wool in heat enough to bake a cake.

Across the sighs of twenty passengers

And the cries of forty feet.

I fell in love with a stranger

Unlike the movies,

Nothing went still and I kept breathing

My heart started no race against time.

My stoic face of frustration

Slowly transformed into a foreign thing

Adjusting itself around my mouth

With the same difficulty of a fat woman in a plastic chair.

Within the traffic of Third Mainland

And the orchestra of horns.

He smiled back. 

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

Anger

She's a little bit drunk

Buzzed; no tipsy.

In a pool of despair she sits

Singing to herself.

Rocking back and forth.

Slowly she rises.

Still singing, the wheels in her head

Are still and she mumbles words only meant for her.

Pacing in her jungle

Her thin wall of quakes;
In the after shock  

She screams.

Loud enough to silence the sound of her breaking heart.

Loud enough to drown his voice in her head.

Trying so hard to dispel all of him in her.

Her bloodshot eyes from

The mix of tears, booze and rile;

More intoxicating than he was. 

Scour the room like a search dog.

Panic and the force of pettiness urge her on

While the audience of furniture

Patiently watch.

Her search dog eyes find that which they seek.

Furiously she types and just as furiously she deletes.

The twins; Panic and Petty

Won't have that

Like two demons they goad

Until she gives.

With the draw of breathe

She hits send.

Nkem Oyaghire

She struts those streets

Like the queen she is.

But in her face is a fear.

Her smile of a mask

Is too big to see the fury.

Her anger.

Of that she knows of.

She struts those streets.

In heels of stiletto.

Their click clack is not enough

Announcement of her Majesty.

Skirt as tight as skin.

Blouse as small as her face

Her thighs are shy,

Never having seen so many faces.

Her breasts are angry

Never having been so cold ever.

She struts those streets

In honey coloured skin.

And she knows that

She is clean.

But their hungry eyes.

Have made her filthy.

She is a queen

In the guise of a slave.

On her knees she must work

On her back she will be rode;

Till the break of dawn-

Must she work

And by noon

Will she sit

In a dusty room

With files older than her.

She struts those street

Hungry for them

Hungry for their needs.
A queen who must don the attire of slaves.  

She struts those street

Like the queen she is.

Beautiful is demeaning

For her.

By her side. Slides a window.

She drops low to meet the face

Of her master for another night.

Nkem Oyaghire

You wake up with a start;

Cold sweat and quick gasps.

No it can't be and you remember his smile.

Feel his breath on your skin,

Giggle from memory

You close your eyes to see his face.

Shiver from the anticipation of what comes next.

Your dream as reality.

Quivering from fear and desire holds you bound.

Fantasy cracks like the beginning of an earthquake.

The break of your reverie;

Your mind forces herself into sense.

Reason kidnaps you

With each breath of his on your skin.

It dawns as early as six am.

Creeping on you as a rapist

Pouncing in that moment of weakness at 3AM.

He is gone.

As your mind drifts back to the nightmare slumber party.

You smile as

Denial beckons.

He is where last you saw him

In the back of your mind

Around a corner of pain

Lounging on your blood red sheets

A one dimpled smile and two words

Which open the gates of careless abandon.

"Come here"

And you battle every force of reason,

Turn a blind eye to the facts.

Refuse to hear the truth.

Falling and fading back

To the lies you tell yourself.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

 

 

 

After this Ball

We are at a ball,

But I can't find you.

In the crowd of faces

You have faded.

Still standing- still,

Patiently, maybe foolishly 

Waiting. 

I search deeply for you.

Unwilling to move

Waiting earnestly

For you to appear.

Surrounded by the swish

Of love.

I long for you,

But you are missing.

The crowd and your face are one.

Every five minutes I feel you.

Lightly kissing

Uttering apologies for abandonment

Explaining the pull of your soul

To dark places.

But I need my fix;

You,

Take me

To where light dare not shine

I will illuminate it with my smile.

Drag me along

To where you're needed most.

The ball is drawing to an end.

Your face is fading from memory;

Exhaustion from your absence

With feet that feel like needles

Mixed with the knowledge

That forever gone you are-

Testing a virtue I lack;

Patience.

I am failing and flailing

Hoping you grab me.

Leaning into the shoulder

Of jumbo ears

Telling him my pain

And let him sooth me.

Soak him with tears

And enjoy his availability.

Salsa with my dainty feet, 

Waltz all I can,

Tango till the break of dawn.

When this ball ends,

A shoulder to cry on

Is the shoulder I wake up to.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

 

I Lied

I lied;

With honey lips

Serenading you in their sweetness.

Lies masked in the nectar of my mouth.

Sickening in taste

And intoxicating with a hint of lust

Urged you to believe

In my falsehood.

Profess to existence,

That which has never been.

Eyes brown as chocolate

Wide as a full moon

Bright as the sun of noon day

Gazed deeply into you.

Declaring what I feel not.

Me

Curled around you

Lain in your arms.

Kissed and whispered.

Made warm and nibbled.

Rode and satiated,

With pleasure and food.

All illusions of

An undercover ice queen

Whose smile is megawatts bright.

Tonight will I drape myself

Across the length of you-

Like always;

Drop the kiss of Judas

Recite the words

Practiced for my reflection

And whisper into you;

I love you.

Pants on fire.

Nkem Oyaghire.

Guilty Pleasure

The devil is before me

With his lies

Dangling the fruit, I dare not

Taste or dream of.

With his sweet voice and

Smile of poison

Leads me on a path

Riddled with hidden secrets

And enclaves of lies.

My feet involuntarily move on

I am getting dragged

Drowning and doused

In his lies of roses.

Thorns of invisibility

And there I lay.

Let him kiss me

With his lethal being

Sip from his dripping

Pool of venom

And he tastes good

But he's not you.

With the urgency of a rape

Tears me apart.

With calloused fingers

And a large palm.

Cups my tiny frame

Rocks me till my eyes drop.

And when he puts his tongue

In me

As loud as five horns will I cry

from the pain of pleasure.

Writhe from the sheer bliss

Of him.

As distant as the cock crow

Of five AM

I hear the promise of your love;

But my heart palpitates

To the rhythm of his dance;

Rocky and fast.

Breathless and guilty

He makes me.

The devil is before me

With a smile of venom.

Dangling the fruit, I dare not

And I took a bite.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

Temptation 

I am slipping;

Falling with no obstacles.

The temptations of things

I need not.

The allure of possessions

And the promise of comfort

Dance before me.

Social media, fans the flames of greed

Snap chat makes it worse;

Instagram with her sales

And Twitter with her fights.

The steady rain of money.

And the allusion of content

Taunt me.

The whispers of escapades

Of money getting

By means not illigimate

But avenues of defilement.

Drift to ears, willing and ready

Yearning to hear and learn tricks of how.

I am too naive

For these worldly ways.

But my mind wraps

Her filthy self in these thoughts

Of the dirty struggle.

To offer myself up

For the things I desire

But need not.

It is easier imagined

Than done.

I am slipping

And the hands of the root of evil.

Are grabbing

The cat calls

And vehicles of men unknown

Encourage.

I am slipping

With no obstacles.

And greed promises

The fall would be worth it.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

Alone

He asked;

“Are you alone?”

In that moment her mind raced

Through the corridors of her life.

Which were devoid of people

Or anything in fact.

She was roaming the hallways

Of her head

Searching and calling out.

For the bliss of companionship

And she was greeted by the echo

Of her voice.

From the looks and sound of it

She was alone.

Home alone in her head

And in her life.

Physically and emotionally.

Mentally too.

In the midst of people

She lacked the love

They didn't offer.

"Are you alone?"

He reiterated

And in the manner of a true artist.

Blessed with the curse

Of the gift of perfect lying.

Donning the robe of pretense

She retorted.

"No I am not"

Naomi West

 

 

 

When His Night Comes

His fist hit the table once more.

And I shivered, not this again!

The cold would have been a better enemy

Not my sweet sweet baby.

His eyes bulging; red;

Not the eyes of my love.

His muscles straining against his shirt;

Not the arms of my tender lover.

I had to deal with this, take my monster

And let the tide of his night pass through.

And when his hand lifted to strike again,

It aimed not for the table,

But for the beautiful face he loved

And I shut my eyes.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

 

Burnt Bridges

Maybe best friends;

Short, fair and brown haired.

Pretty little thing that all the boys liked

With a strange laugh and bad breath.

The burning of a green checkered uniform

And the lighting of a candle.

Began our fire.

We struggled to hold on

Struggled to keep your bridge.

But myself and age.

Set fire to our bridge.

Goodbye PFiola.

Not best friends.

Short and curvy,

Angel face but devil heart.

Terrible mother and underground slut.

Went wrong from the start.

But will never forget you.

Pretender you are

Irritable and impatient I am

I burnt our bridge

For good reason.

Good riddance Bubu.

Probably best friends.

Skinny and light skinned.

Experienced and a talker.

Heavy makeup and tiny clothes.

Our bridge

We have doused too many times

But it still catches flames

We try but fail.

The distance imposed by geography

We couldn't fight.

Hello Pooja.

Definitely best friend.

Of four years.

Amazing talent and dark skin

Huge boobs and eyes.

Hot brothers and chill dad.

You have struggled for our bridge.

But the my jealousy of

You and Kudi's bond

Won't let me.

The torch to blaze us

I hold

But my love for you pleads

And my devotion would not let me.

Our bridge is failing and I stand

Five hours away.

And I know

I have lost you. 

I can't wait to see you

And say;

Hello Chocolate Drop

Nkem Oyaghire

 

The Other Woman

I am she

The reason for your tears

The cause of your headaches

I am she

I keep him warm-in

Your absence

Is my presence

I am she

The third party in your bond.

I am his joy

In your anger.

His woman,

When you're being a baby.

And his pillar

When you have crumbled.

I am she

His confidante, keeper

Of matters unknown

To you

Matters about you.

I am she

On the phone

When you pick

With your voice raised

In panic and suspicion

Asking. "Who is this?

I know you can hear me

Who I this?"

I am the unknown caller

By 2

I am Kayode he crashed with

I am she

In whose bosom he lays.

I am your partner in him.

When I stroke his beard

In my bed

He sighs

And your face flashes.

Guilt rears its ugly head

But his strong strong arms

In which I lay

Send your face and guilt to the dark.

I am she.

I am why he strokes right.

I thought him how

To lay it good.

I am she you smell

On him

She; whose Classic lipstick

Is on his collar,

She who fed him

Not just food or love

I am she who filled his appetite.

For the things

Your uptightness would refute.

I am the voice you hear

In every background

And your name is a taboo

And my existence is your horror.

I am she

Who loves your man.

She; who does him right.

She; who is

The other woman.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

Age Steps

The steps of growth

Line up before me.

I am not far from the bottom.

Neither am I afraid of  heights 

But these steps make me dizzy.

I just scaled through some fears

And I am still breathless.

The climb stretches further than my eyes

Or mind can see.

There are brusies from slipping

The Band-Aid of experience

Sticks to my skin

The spirit of betrayal stings

This is a one man walk.

But I still drag baggage

Of friends.

Friends unsure.

I face the step of human relations

And I am falling.

Grasping for help.

One man walk; I forgot.

The cuts from this have not healed

May never heal.

I am too unsure and fearful. 

So I pitch my tent.

Tired of trying.

This step is too steep

My legs too short.

My hands too tired

And my heart battered.

One man walk.

But I need banisters.

For in this walk,

If I slip;

I may never rise.

Above all of this petty.

The steps of growth

Line up before me

I can't wait to get to the top.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

 

Hopelessly Hopeful 

I am hopelessly hopeful

A hapless daydreamer

A believer of things that may not be

Christians call this faith

I am one and I know I am too fearful to have it.

I am what you will call an escapist.

Into the realms of books and movies I bury myself

Only to resurrect when completely necessary.

To say I believe in the average things of the average man is a lie.

My mind is never with me.

Which usually makes me useless, only sometimes.

I am the girl in Coldplay’s Paradise.

I am that girl whose feet is above the earth,

I am the woman who calls herself a girl.

I am that adult who has refused to grow.

For I have not met one person

Who makes me aspire to adulthood.

I am the person who envies the lives led by babies.

I am hopelessly hopeful.  

For things that may be.

I am that person who hopes to relive life as a child. 

Or am I weird?

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

Opposites Attract

We are polar opposites

You are brave as a lion

I am timid as a sheep.

You can devour me in one look

And in your gaze I melt like chocolate.

Polar opposites we are

Adventurous as Tarzan

And limited as Jane.

You with your eyes full of age and experience

And me with childlike wonder I stare at you.

Adonis face and lanky but firm body.

Skin the colour of warm chocolate.

Just like the rest of them.

You are grown beyond your years

And will forever remain a puzzle to me

For in the large maze of your head I meet to may many walls

Tagged with "you have no idea"

You infuriate me and I like it.

I am confounded in your presence

Yet I can't leave you.

I am a foolish girl and I don't care.

We are polar opposites;

You and I.

And because science is a bitch.

And I am sucker

My positive is attracted to your negative

Constantly plugged in and waiting for a frequency from you.

Polar opposites we are

Yet you are not attracted. 

Nkem Oyaghire 

 

 

 

Mirror Mirror

I am before a mirror

Smiling back at me is a grown woman

But she has the smile of a five year old,

The mindset of a twelve year old

And maybe the heart of an eight year old.

I am not sure which of these people I can be

For in the mirror of the world around me

I am called immature.

The urge to grow burns in me.

The desire to join em,

To be called adult;

To not just be intelligent but wise

Is stronger that the strongest desire.

So I strive

And work until the perfect day of maturity.

Wait!

I have arrived at an impasse.

I don't know what grown up is.

I am very lost.

Groping along the walls of age

With the blindfolds of childishness

And on each bump I hear contradictions.

The failing of my youth encouraged as a process;
by those who understand the complexities and struggle of a growth process.

While my flailing movements are interrogated
 by the wise master who think they know it all 
and have forgotten 
how many times they fell during the walk. 

Mirror mirror on the wall

Tell me who I am;
I don't need to know the fairest of us all, 

Show me the possibilities of all futures.

Reveal the steps I ought to take.

Mirror mirror on this wall.
I already know i am fair, 
No need to know who is fairer or the fairest. 

I cry in confusion for with each step I take

I ask in befuddlement what is right or wrong.

For in this mind of a twelve year old

Ignorance beds. 

Nkem Oyaghire

Naked

Let's get naked.

I will show you mine and you show me yours

Strip myself to the bones and you shall see

All the flaws and problems of my being.

 

The errors that go beyond the skin

The glitches in my system will you see.

Some of this will shock you

Some will repel you

I am sure you will feel pain.

I promise that you will be disappointed.

I assure you that my scars are not pretty.

For my outer layer is as pretty as a cake

And my insides as rotten as rancid meat.

I am not as pretty outside as I am inside.

But who is?

My soul may stink like a four day old corpse.

Let's get naked

And see who runs away first.

Nkem Oyaghire

I know a boy

Who is not perfect,

For perfection is a notion nobody will ever attain.

Might love him,I would say I can love him

Maybe love him.One day would be min

Not to jump into conclusions

For he is pledged to another.

Six months late.

For I was busy obtaining

A degree;

A degree that is substandard.

I know a boy.

Who will not fiddle with my heart

Like he fiddles with keys.

For him I would learn the notes I know not.

For him I would learn things beyond my grasp.

For him I just might;

No scrap that

I will learn mathematics.

He is not a boy.

My bad,

He is a man who can love the child in me.

He is a man who will respect my learning process.

A man who will hold my hand,

As I ascend the long stairway of womanhood.

Forever will he tease

Not just my height but my age.

Ancient of days.

You that could be a big brother.

But my head won't respect herself

And my heart is still a learner.

So I see myself falling.

Deeper than I had not planned to.

Deeper than six feet

For this hole

Lacks a bottom.

And as I fall

Deeper will I dig.

I need to remember

It was a crush.

Now I feel squashed

With all I feel.

I don't want to want you.

But I can't stop smiling at you.

And I can't stop to want

I can't stop to say your name.

And with each letter I utter.

All I hear is "young lady control yourself"

But I can't stop.

For with every moment I see you

With your lazy swagger of a walk

And your incredibly flat nose.

I still want you.

Nkem Oyaghire

Kiss me Deeply

Kiss me deeply.

Let me drown in you.

Kiss me deeply

Let your poison run through me.

Take my hand in yours

Let me explore the crevices of your soul

Take me into every dark corner

Of you.

Place your lips on mine

Take me in every way possible.

Open your soul to me

Let our spirits become one.

Inseparable. Not even by death.

Kiss me deeply.

Show forth yourself.

Let me feel all your problems.

I want to know your nightmares

To understand them.

Let me alleviate the pain .

Kiss me deeply.

I need to stop your demons.

To keep the voices silently

Only my voice in the maze

Of your mind.

Kiss me deeply.

Let all others fade.

Superseding the urge for more.

Kiss me deeply.

Never will I need more.

Allow me to take a chunk of you.

Let me taste the bile from you.

Let the gall of your life ruin my sweetness.

Quench my light with your darkness.

Open your closets.

Let me bed with your skeletons.

Kiss me deeply.

And open your gates

Its time I died in you.

Nkem Oyaghire

Love Wants

To gasp for air at his touch.

To have a blood rush from his gaze.

To feel a zoo in the pit of my belly from his smile.

To melt away from his kiss.

To feel tingles at his mention of my name.

To shiver all over when he holds me.

Is all I want.

To cuddle up with my phone. With his voice in my ear.

To fall asleep with him in my head

To wake up from a dream of him.

Is what I want to feel.

To feel giddy in his presence

To spend every waking moment with him. 

To dance to love songs.

And imagine he wrote them for me.

To be naked before him.

Emotionally, mentally and physically.

To be every iconic couple with him.

From Jack and Rose

To Jay and Bey.

Is all I want.

For him to be the new temporary love of my life

For me to forget the world in him.

For me to let go and let him.

I want to know what it is like again.

Want to stay awake all night just thinking of him.

Want to get mad if he misses my call.

Want to feel fierce jealously over the littlest thing.

I need to be able to love selfishly.

To get rid of a certain numbness.

Numbness from the hangover of a great love.

I need to love him in the way he never knew.

To love him the best way I know.

I want to love him properly.

.

 

Listen   

Eye power; -3.50;

Hearing ability; High Definition.

The mumblings of your little minds

Infuriate me.

Your pubescent whispers

Send me to the tipsy edge,

Threatening to throw me over.

Your teenage giggles

Grate on my nerves.

Hush, be quiet.

Let the thoughts of my sagacity

Flow in perfect rhythm.

Let the excesses in my mind

Fill the gaps in your porous minute brains.

Listen please;

To me.

For know  ye not what the world wants.

Let me tiny experience guide you.

Listen please,

To me

Beckon to my pleas of silence.

My mind is a nine lane road

With the traffic of immeasurable units

Forever busy with thoughts beyond my comprehension

With ideas unborn and unrefined

Motions ready for harvesting.

Hearing ability; high definition. 

I cannot be dragged from myself

By your idle chatter.

Your childish notions and immature speech

Is synonymous to an accident of my high way

Of confusing traffic.

Eye power; -3.50;

Hearing ability; High Definition.

Hush, Listen.

Shush, femme la bouche.

Pay attention please

To the words of this mind.

Let my lips spew forth the things you know not

Yet.

 Eye power; -3.50;

Hearing ability; High Definition.

My sight deficiency

Makes me privy to the

Littlest sounds.

Hush my darlings and listen to my words.

Nkem Oyaghire 

Curtains and Alleys

Let the curtains rent to the floor

And expose the secrets of your being

Perhaps it will tell them the truth

Of your oddity 

Of all the silliness that really mocks you

And drives you to immense insanity 

And perhaps also charms you in the world's eyes

But you will not let you be one of them

Even when you have refused to be some other, truly

Let the curtain rent to the floor

And crash into everything that makes it. 

Let the light of your sick soul illuminate me

And teach me a language outside 'proper' 

Educate me in the ways of the mad

That is if you're interesting in how mad I can be

I want to be born again in your 'dark' ways 

Insane to the point that terrifies insanity

Insane in the way no books have described

Like the 'hurricanes' of 'Twilight' and 'The original Sin'.

Reconstruct my mind.

Like the stories of movies retold, untold and told again.

Make my mind a maze of dark alleys, where no light dare shine.

Nkem Oyaghire and Nnanna Ikpo.

I Hate You

The very thought of you

Revolts me.

To think you were the best thing

Saddens me.

Never again to have you.

Never again to hold you.

Never again to hear you

 Say I love you.

Never again to kiss you.

I hate you for you.

For making me this;

Immune. To love.

To the best kind of weakness.

I hate you deeply.

For owing a room in my head;

For being a tenant in my heart;

For showing me the worst pain.

I deserve to hate you.

More than it’s reasonable.

I hate you immensely.

The love in me is poisoned.

Turned bitter like the river Marah.

Poisoned from the fear of falling.

Free into nothing;

Into the bliss of his arms.

The memories of you

Have shut me out from love,

From the fantasy of fairy tales.

No longer can I believe in such magic

No longer do I possess the faith

To comprehend it.

No longer will I love properly.

Above all

I hate me;

For missing you,

For still hoping,

For holding on still

To our elusive romance.

To the dream that I will find love in you.

I hate me for lying

I hate me for dreaming of us

I hate me for loving you.

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

 

I Will Find You

Mountains of immense heights

Rivers of unfathomable depths

Won’t hinder me. 

Pitch dark, bright light

I will find you

Two halves of a perfect match

We are.

Opposing opposites

Hopefully something alike

With different ideologies

And similar likes.

You, my missing half

Parted at creation

Divided maybe, by race or social class

Together we are one.

I will find you.

In anticipation will I wait 

When in your arms I will lay. 

 In your eyes lose myself

In your ears bury deep

My secrets of shame and joy

With my mouth

Brazenly declare

My never-fading devotion.

Solemnly, today I stand upon these words;

My words.

Words I will one day send you to bed with

Words in which I shall serenade you

Promise you;

I will find you

Come what may

Neither rain or hay.

Will I find you.

Nkem Oyaghire 

 

Pulpit and Pew1

Hey Mr Preacher man.

In your suit of threadbare cotton,

Hanging on you; limp

Like clothing on a scarecrow.

Hungry you look; hungry you are.

Your anger at a pocket of void

Is seen in your speech.

Your eyes

Hungrily rove the congregation

Hungrily you wonder why

We present peanuts,

Gifts not befitting of a man of your spiritual standing

Or endowments.

Judgy Judge you are

Donning the wig of a lawyer

And the robes of justice.

On a pulpit you stand and a gavel you wield  

Ready to slam and yell

Guilty as charged.

Guilty of giving an offering

Not Commensurate to a pocket

You wrongfully assume full.

A pocket full of holes

Holes of bills, bills of a family

A family of bairns, bairns of my blood.

Blood need food.

Judgy Preacher man

Withhold your gavel

Let me offer to Him, not my peanuts

But the gifts from my heart.  

That He may accept,

He who knows all

And sees the pocket of all.

Hey Mr. Preacher man.  

Drop your Wig and don your collar. 

Nkem Oyaghire

Hello Grim 

The most feared being

The inevitable one

You whom light trembles at

And darkness adores;

Grim. 
He comes when the clock is done.

And your time is come.

Ranging from as short as a minute,

To a hundred years.

He is sure to come.

You only pray he loves you,

to take you early

Or despises you

To keep you in this hell of earth.

When he comes we are never sure

Lucky ones see his smile

Fearless ones, eager for an embrace.

I'm neither lucky or fearless

I anticipate, constantly wondering when it will be

When shall he lay with me?

Steal my breath with a kiss?

I shall go to bed hoping he isn't in my dreams

So I wake grateful for another day

Glad for one more day

One more day to be better

One more day to be good

One more day to say I love you. 

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

Black Sheep 

Bla bla black sheep

Have I any wool?

Well yes.

I have a bag full of blackness.

Warm soft wool,

To rid you of some good.

A luggage of my wonderful vices

Spilling out and bursting full

Like Santa’s bag on Christmas eve.

Unabashed, I will flaunt them,

Parade them like they deserve to.

Like a proud Soldier they are my medals of honour

They are my defining elements,

My descriptive features

In my trail follows disappointment and heartache

Behind me runs the tears of they who love me,

They who have not the slightest inkling of what I am.

Without a care or regard for your hearts

I pledge to ignore your pleas.

I am the black sheep

On that long winding road

To seemingly destruction.

I am the black Sheep,

Who never will listen

Who never will you hear

I am the black Sheep 

Who will not only bring you shame,

But promise to shower on you pain. 

Nkem Oyaghire

 

 

Childhood Prolonged

Tempus Fugit
Ever spinning clock
Minute and second hands in unison.T
ime is flying and I'm stuck in moments
Pictures swimming in my head
Collages of memories.
I can't seem to move beyond the 90's
So I don't grow.
Remain a girl in my head.
Steady in my ever present flashbacks.
Won't be a lady of nineteen
Refusing to acknowledge the raging hormones.
Fire burning in thighs refuting to explain it
Seemingly allergic to the fires.
Curiosity I adamantly restrain.
Still a girl, denying sex, alcohol and drugs.

Tempus fugit.
We are all growing.
I remain a girl, denying my thirthies.
Body thirsty for growth from a reprobate mind.
Body rebels and won't obey mind.

Tempus Fugit.
I'm older now, not in mind
But in body, actions and social responsibilities.

Tempus fugit.
My time is running out
Death is near.
My mind still in the 90s, body is ninety.
Breath of the dying seeps from me
Pipe dreams of 6 year old me.
In the lack thereof of an adulthood.
I shall reelish my prolonged childhood.
Without second thought
Would return and iterate.
Nkem Oyaghire

N.B TEMPUS FUGIT IS LATIN FOR TIME FLIES. 

The Call 

It has been four days after;

Idly I sit by my phones

Waiting for the sound of Big Sean

To announce a caller.

Anxious for the beep of a message

Not from the Network

Offering promises of elusive bonuses

But from him.

To tell me he was shy

And he missed me mildly.

To assure me that I'm not mad.

All the while wondering

"What is wrong with me?" 

It has been four days since the first kiss,

Four days since I last felt real butterflies,

Four days since anyone dared,

Four days since a burning of that kind.

Four days since... After a year.

In my mind I have played

The tape of a conversation.

Rehearsed the first words I shall utter

Speculating whether to be coy or nah

To display anger or non nonchalance.

Still unsure as to my preferred reactions

I have prepared myself to sound

Like a lady

To pretend I have been unexpectant

Like I'm not lonely.

All the while ignoring reality,

Willing myself to believe

To have faith

And hold a shred of hope

That it wasn't just it

And that he is not like all of you.

Not a disappointment

Like the past attempts.

Praying he isn't another reason
To not try anymore. 

Nkem 

 

 

Mundane Sunday

Call to service; 8:00
The pews shall fill up by 7:30
With cracked knees and tightly clasped palms.
Their lips utter supplications and entreaties 
To the almighty who hears;
But may withhold answers or solution.

I shall follow on the heels of she that birthed me
Today she will cry, like always
For father to return to his good ol ways.
Whimper feverishly for that unduly deserved promotion
And pray fervently for all unseen forces to die.
I will sit-still beside her and bide time
Watch the second hand pursue the minute hand
Silently drift off to places unknown
Kneel and stand in tune with the service.
Like a well oiled cog I will follow the motions
Of the perfect machine that is a Sunday service.
When the time comes share the grace
Wish my neighbour peace.
On my mother's heels will I follow-out.
Welcome to my mundane Sunday.
Ms Oyaghire

Fiery Love

My love for you does not run as deep as rivers,
For water cannot quench the fire
In me that burns for you.
It burns as hot as a thousand fires;
As hot as a fiery furnace heated seven times over
Engulfing me in flames of unbridled passions.
What I feel for  you is a powerful storm.
Way beyond my control or understanding.
Sweeping me up in the throes of a painful love.
A destructive love that soothes my demons
I found a person whose evil compliments my bad
Not to be mathematical
Like two negatives we have become postive.
My love for you is a still voice constantly reassuring you
Of the eternal bind our hearts have.
Reminding you that come war or peace,
Hell or high water,
Never will I leave you.
There are no words appropriate enough
To carry the weight of my love for you.
For in the vast void of my vapid existence
You found me.
Ms Oyaghire

 Prince Fucking Charming.

 She said our Prince Charmings are riding to us

On horses that embody elegance.
They personify grace and

They will lift us out of the fog of seemingly unfathomable heartbreaks.

We will ride into a kingdom of inconceivable love.  

Our hearts beat as one, they will surely find us. She said.

On this fateful day

On another wait rode in a Prince Charming

On a regal Mustang. 

With eyes you could misplace yourself in,

Smelling like he passed through a field of Roses

His smile was a dark night sky sprinkled with stars.  Beautiful.

And seeing him we knew he was the one.

On this fateful day

Came Prince charming and laid his sword at her feet.
Off she rode with him into happiness.

So I waited still. At the end of my wait.

Grabbed the next Prince that strode along,

Blinded by the urgency of a dying womb

And the impatience of an aging spinster.

My mistake; he was not of the Charming family.

Prince fucking Charming I shall call him.

He prefers the comfort of a prostitute

To the warmth of my thighs.

The bosom of a strange woman he lays

While mine burns feverishly for him.

The ale of the tavern is a sweet smelling savour

Not my back-breaking sweaty 
Made dainty dishes.

His fist pounding me is

The only pleasure he seeks from me.  

Today I will wipe his brow and dote on him devoutly.

Lay a meal befitting a king before him

After his bouts with the maidens of the town.

For he is a king, not just the type

Worthy of a life.

For when dawn wakens I shall send him

To the hell he deserves.

His mistake; he didn't marry Cinderella

All this while he had been laying with Cruella. 

Ms Oyaghire

 

Pen to Paper 

Pen to paper, heart unravelling

Blood from a splintered heart will serve as ink.

Pen to paper, heart unravelling,

I do detest you, your relentless silence drives me mad

Pen to paper, heart unravelling.

No words will do, so I will be a docile lamb.

Be a hopeful spectator, waiting on the sidelines

For an itsy bitsy glimpse into your immensely sad life.

I beg for my joy to penetrate your darkness and

Urge the flames of my love to burn your depression.

In my arms you won't find rest, but life.

Bubble to annoyance, groan in pleasure.

Happy you will be to a fault.

Like a patient pet. I will wait!

Like a pest I will leave.

Promising you that never will you find another me

Who will love you with all of my craziness. 

Ms Oyaghire

Insomniac Cure

King Saul's curse is upon me.

Sleeplessness is a guest in my house;

Bedding with me.

Demons taunting me, questioning the necessity of life

While constantly reminding fearful me of the vast infinity of eternity.

I shiver in bed,

Wistfully from cold or

 Wishfully from the absence of a lover's arm.

Rather from the fear that comes with a roving mind.

Fighting the philosophy of my young mind

Urging my wide eyes to shut themselves.

Pleading with sleep to lie with me.

One more night, I shall plead for I can't fight my mind anymore

I cannot silence the taunting demons.

Until.

In a cacophony of melodies,

An arrangement of noise

Accompaniment of keys.

I find peace, sigh in relief.

Fear is battled. I am winning

My mind is waning. Fatigue is welcome.

Sleep hovers by.

With wide arms. I shall welcome my David with his harp.

Encourage him to play away the pain.

Just like Saul, I have a David in my playlist.

Bring slumber to my bed, send the demons to where they belong

And putting sleeplessness to his heels.

I will rest tonight in the arms of my one true lover; Music.

Ms Oyaghire

 

New Butterflies

Expanding lungs coupled with quick breaths.

Oh no! Not again.

I have a crush.

He is perfect, well my kinda perfect.

 I feel the way Queen B felt in Deja Vu.

I would tell his name,

I like to kiss and tell; blabber mouth me

But I dare not.

The last one was my pride, my love, the boy I have ever loved the most.

My blabber mouth and childlike self didn't have him after 3 months.

So I shall act like a boss ass bitch,

I ain't one, but let's see if it works

Act mature and pretend I'm a real lady,

Not a growing woman with the heart of a five year old.

With fingers crossed, I shall play cool

Dousing the fire of my being,

I will kill my real self

Because she can't be handled or controlled

Not even by be.

Shallow I sound

Shallow you will be when desperate to kill

A former lover from your mind, wipe his memories with new ones of the ultimate crush.

Replace his name and face in your dreams with the new butterflies guy.

I have a crush, who may not know I exist.

Glad to know I can stop loving you.

With one more day and the tick tock of time

My heart shan't skip at the mention of your name

Neither my head float to worlds were we exist as one.

I have a crush. 

Ms Oyaghire 

  

 Drunk Song

Cycle of wine, drowning in vile

Constantly juiced never sober

I remember my first drink, how it felt.

The first sip, my first kiss with Dionysus,

Burning my throat, warming my belly;

Drowning out the petty rubbish.

Take me far. Into a world I won't remember.

Nothing here is worth my memory anyways.

So I will settle with my second love;

For the first left me to break like a smashed clay pot.

Let him tell me the secrets of booze,

Whisper sweet nothings of pure unadulterated intoxicating love

Give me his higher education,

Journey me to the land of inebriation.

Don't you judge me.

We all need coping mechanisms

You have God, some have Porn

Some Weed, I have my bottles

Let me be inundated in mine.

For when the night comes my lover will be here

Send the demons running,

Lock my floodgates of pain.

And when dawn arrives.

I will be able to face it, red eyed and emboldened.

With alcohol flowing in my veins. 

 Ms. Oyaghire



Night Terrors

A battle raves in me of words unsaid

And tears unshed.

I wake from dreams I fled from.

With pants mixed in hurried speeches of prayer.
My simple mind full of unspoken terror 

For my fear cannot comprehend such evil. 

So I turn to Him, He who won't reject

Take my gibberish and unravel them,

Ease my tears into smiles,

Turn my wars into peace.

I am not certain what I battle,

Only He is aware.

I see fragmented images, faces I can't remember 
Flashes of a past experienced and a future yet untold.  

 Somniloquy; conversations devoid meaning.

Sleep my solitude, is now a prison.

I roll to bed and jump out of my best friend.

Dreams chasing me to a confusing reality.

Prayer has to work. I don't know all,

Omniscient one

Reveal to me; take this blessing that feels like a curse.

Let my nights be mine once more and let

My days cease to be clouded with tears unshed and words not said.

 Ms Oyaghire. 



I have thoughts endlessly swirling in my head

Thoughts that celebrate evil and shun good

Thoughts that wander to darkness

Fleeing from light.

There's a constant battle.

Battlefield; my conscience

Where two higher powers lay rest

Beautiful sweet good

Urging me to light, drowning out the boom of the voice of

Repulsive evil. 

Bad I am needlessly drawn to like a moth to flame

Evil that's shows forth my vices

Vices that bring me shame

Sends friends far

And turns lovers away.

I have thoughts that noise won't hide

And silence refuses to diminish

Thoughts as black as night

Manifesting in speech and action.

I have thoughts to kill such thoughts

But my evil won't commit suicide

Leaving me one choice,

Hoping I have the courage to do the necessary.

@nkemoyaghire

    

Words to Them    

I love my sisters

We are not connected by bonds of blood

Nor ties of DNA

Rather we have bonds of stories told

Of tears shed, hugs offered and prayers said.

We have love for each other

That will fail but still stands

Love that will be tested

By the sweet temptation of boys,

The clashing conflictions of interest.

Any other trivial issues of Venus;

The planet of women.

May rise like a beast,

Attempt and try to waver and sever.

Voices raised and fists clenched

Palms outstretched and eyes bulging

Legs at ease and arms akimbo

The stances we have when love is administered

Either by a rebuke or in excitement.

My mountain of confidence,

And my canopy of love.

My karaoke and dancing partners,

recipes swappers

And companions in crime and in joy.

My sisters, not of blood

But of stories yet untold.

Of children unborn and of husbands unwed

For the love I feel for you

Will and should stand

Come hay or rain.

I love my sisters, not of DNA ties,

But of experiences woven through time.

Of escapades imprinted in our memories.

Of clothes handed down and bags shared.

Not to be thug;

I love my sisters from other mothers.

Who through the pitfalls of heartbreaks

And ecstatic elevations of joy

Will be.

@nkemoyaghire

 

Words to Him   

I had a good love affair.

Or so it seemed

He made for smile for years and he warmed my crazy heart

I will and have thrown my pride to the dogs

To have his love

Give anything to claim him as mine

And to be called his.

He was my rock and my joy

My ever strong pillar of sense in my childlike universe,

My resounding voice of reason and source of pain.

My greedy selfish heart wants only his greedy selfish self.

Call me stupid, silly and ridiculous

For constantly wanting to fall into the trap that my love for him is.

A love that lies with the dust and dirt of the street

A love that has being repeatedly thrown in my face

Forced down my throat and has only come forth in tears

A love that has made me question me

Question my flaws

And wonder if I will ever be good enough.

It's one in the morning and all I want

Is to lie beside you.

Vague and irrational thinking.

Throwing my phone away is another option

To stop my itching fingers

To hold them still from trying to hear your voice

A voice that used to be filled with love now full of cold words laced with contempt

Laced with an uncaring attitude.

I fucking dare you to tell me what went wrong.

I dare you, you contemptible coward

To face me and tell me why

You would treat me like a beggar.

I dare you to love me properly like you know how to. 

@nkemoyaghire

 

Love Thine Own self 

He said he loved her

Like no other, do what another wouldn't do

Said he would forever have her etched in his memory

Just like a tattoo

Said his love couldn't fade even in eternity.

Promised to ever remain intoxicated in the essence that she was.

So she revelled in his love

Let the promise of his unending love drape

Her days and cloud her reasoning

She believed in the promise of forever

Had faith in the intangible workings of a human mind.

Until the haze of her high started to fade

The inebriation of her being began to dissolve in the wake of a new her

So she did what she did in the beginning

Replayed the moments, only she was the only one on the dates

Only one asking the beautiful questions

Only one who cared to ignite the embers of a dying love

She had long ago sunk deep into the warmth of a love that wasn't truly hers

Forgetting that the only love she needed was the one she had for herself

That's why in the beginning of the end disorder and a feeling of lost

Were her guardian angels

Tears her new lover and anger her constant companion,

Peace which she sought could only be achieved when she

Forgave and began to love once more;

Beginning with herself. 
@nkemoyaghire

 

 

Great Expectations

My expectations are not the things I want but what others expect of me

I’m a young black girl, who is fighting to not be defined

Either by my colour or gender

Not to be defined by my grades or likes

But I, we all live in a segregated world

Where everything and everybody has sections

Where a faction makes a person not the person a faction

I want to be a free spirit but even spirits have sections

I will like to question why things work the way they do

But I can’t question my maker

Why is that I would love to ask,

But my bible which has also segregated me to the ‘good, proper, better’ faith and means of worship

Has said I shouldn’t

This is the reason why a lot of us are blind, myself included

We only see what a religion, tradition or parent says is right

Even when the wrong is so much more reasonable

Whenever I see a balloon floating into nothingness

I can’t help but feel envy

Because that balloon has fulfilled its only responsibility;

To be free and fly away

The order of my days is confusion

I never know what I want

I only know what is expected of me.

@nkemoyaghire

Our Heroes 

Our heroes are not men in capes and tight latex trousers

Or ladies with glorious long hair and lassos of truth

These epitome of heroism were created to teach us virtues

Our real heroes are those we ever gave our first smiles to

 Those we were first practiced calling their names;

“Mama, papa”

Our heroes are those who backed us on those hot afternoons

And patted us during the colicky nights

Our heroes are those people who

Gave us our first piggy back rides

Those people who were stronger in the beginning

Our heroes who could carry us high in their arms and swing us back and forth

Could play the games of peekaboo and let’s-see-who-would-stay-quiet-the-longest

Our heroes who were the strongest people who couldn’t feel pain or weakness

Our heroes who could never fall ill in our eyes

Are slowly becoming sick in our very before

For we have come to an age where the curse of time is telling on our heroes

Ailments for old people are upon our heroes

And now we slowly take on the role of our heroes

To help them walk on steps and through problems

To cook the meals they love like they did for us,

Role reversal must take place

And as we slowly rise to the position of heroes

We learn to be heroes to the younger ones

We would bring forth

We learn how to strap a child to our back and change nappies

For the time draws nigh when we would have to learn and do the things our heroes did for us

These heroes who are of the Past, Present and Future

For at a point in time in the lives of our heroes the performed the same roles we are about to take on

My heroes were and are still great ones

All I ask for is to be better hero that mine were. 

@nkemoyaghire

 

I am a Writer

I am a writer

My pen which is mightier than a sword 

Is a tool to me and a weapon of warfare

My heart which pumps blood and words

Is expressed with my writing.

Speaking; was noisy

Writing; is full of peace and purgation. 

When I hold a pen 

My veins burst open 

And an outflow of ideas,dreams and expectations come forth 

I'm a writer 

Which makes me a fountain of art 

By all rights I am an artist 

For I paint words on a canvas of paper

My imaginations, though not seemingly real are larger than life to me, I draw with ink. 

I am a writer 

Which makes me a compulsory observer

For it's my duty to observe and record 

The reactions that come with actions 

To record in a way so vivid and clear 

Clear as the mid-day sunny sky

That a reader would believe in the unatttainable

I'm a writer 

Which makes me a Philosopher 

For I'm full of ideologies 

I am a writer 

And by mandate a Doctor 

For I can prescribe remedies 

I'm a writer 

And by compulsory obligation 

A bearer of the truth. 

I am a writer 

Which makes me immune 

Immune to any form of mental slavery

For my words are an extension of my thoughts 

My actions you may have a hold on 

But never will you be able to rein in my thoughts 

I'm a writer. 

@nkemoyaghire 

 

 Papa Don't Preach.

Papa I'm sorry
You told me I was too young
But you forgot youthful exuberance
I have always wanted to tell you
You were once my age and although now you are older and wiser
You ought to know better
You tried to stifle me but
You ought to know such won't work
You call me your ticking bomb
If you only know how correct you are
This is to you in advance
I have been patient
Time is running out
I love you daddy but I have to fly
Happy Fathers' day.
@nkemoyaghire.

Your Mistakes

Don't mistake my smiles for naivety,
they are my means of finding joy in this dark world.
Don't mistake my big eyes for innocence,
they are there to read through your facade.
Don't mistake my glasses for smartness, they are result of my effervescent love for garri.

Or the fast way I talk for boldness,
it's one of my defence mechanisms.
Don't mistake my never ending hyperactivity for childishness,
It is my outlet for the energy I have in abundance.
Don't mistake my silence for foolishness
sometimes I need to be silent to detect your lies.
Or my tears as a sign of weakness,
I purge myself of the sadness you cause with them
Most of all don't mistake my gender as a tool for exploitation,
Cos we are humans first before we are male or female.
@nkemoyaghire