I took a mini-journey
on the night that was before,

it came my way
through shadows, grey

appearing startling, at my door !

~

Abruptly, I put pen to page
so I couldn't get it wrong,

I had to write
into the night,

to catch serendipity's song.

~

Suddenly, transpiring
in a most peculiar way,

in a blinding flash
our hearts did crash,

a song neither of us could play.

~

She was of lines, that took us down
each pathway, effortless;

Boys played a game in school
Stealing of pens no matter how
They called it, ‘tapping’ by name
Our fathers worked in far away land
Sending money for our books and fees
Some relished in squandering spree

I went home from school without a pen
Wondered what to use next day
I stepped into the room of Akpan Nya
The man of the house in father’s absence
On his table was a world receiver
And coins scattered in front of it

moon dance

dark heavens
hold soft petite
intermittant clouds
moving slowly
on gentle breezes
float leisurely aside
revealing
the silver white
of a copious orb
low in the sky
seemingly
almost within
loving reach
I want to claim it
as my own
as I waltz
to the tune
the moon has inspired
within my soul

There are beggars in fields of wild red roses,
savage rooms grow in brick and stone, in driftwood
and the busy street,
I can not point a finger of indictment to the untouchables
in your head.

If no one bears responsibility like a forlorn tusk into the arena of brave politics
who will be left behind?
What would it take to set free the lepers?
Heave the stone from your shoulder and retell the story you tell yourself,
turning away from....
your tears washing four corners
and counting crows.