Tribute to Iye

Dear Mother

From my first cry

Your smile and voice

comforting and soothing

I, your son

You, my sun

Blessed with your eternal love

My guardian angel

Through my early and later life

With you i saw

the goodness of God

Kindness from your heart,

always overflowing

Your prayers always protecting

Through you i learned

of God-given qualities

that was embedded in you

You gave me strength

Even in my darkest moments

when life was hard

You broke through

bringing peace to my soul

Making my path in life easier

Even giving me the name ‘Omonogie’

A child destined to be king

Today my tears

Fill the room

But I know

Your soul rests by God’s side

In knowing that

I will remain strong

Carrying your legacy

On, to my children and their offsprings

Though this life

You, I will not see

Your will spirit live on

Shinning brightest in my heart

and in those of others

Mama the mama

Sweetest mother

Until the end of time

Beyond stars and heavens

When we will reunite

Dancing and basking in God’s light

Dead by the Pen

Fed to the wolves

skin ripped apart

Innards all spread out

Glistening with snow

A Bouquet of rosa

painted on winter bones

Spleen filtering warmth

Far out from moist broadleafs

Here, present

Silence followed by

Yellow stone decay

Days left for dead


Another red ink

left on white sheets

Resting State

When I’m gone

I’ll hear the sounds

Leaving earth alone

In my heaven I’ll rest

Away to the music of closed eyes

Vision gone, when I’m gone

A rebirth into my time


Oh when I’m gone

I’ll hear the cars down below

Never wishing to come back down

For my clock has only began

In my soul, I’ll awaken

Fading into my existence

Ring the bells, and tell my tale

Oh when I’m gone,

I’ll leave behind the pain of living


The sweetness of good living

Gone to taste the skies again

Filling the void with an aroma only the stars hold

When I’m gone, I’ll be gone

One and forever with my demise


The Ape of an Angel

He, living by the sword,
Was destined to die from its many cut
The heaven gates opened,
Swallowed him into its abode
He remained amazed,
The glory he had never seen
Harps and harps were played
He crying, saw his mistakes
For before the time that was now
He had died a million times before
Life knowing, he would listen
Even to times of many deaths

The Crying Guitar

Tears from a string

Another morning preaching the word ‘disaster’

Fragments of recurring wrongs

Southern dilemma

Hands held high

Buckets filled to the brim

Colors mismatched with red and gun powder

Feet of soldiers, prints of herdsmen

The fuss going all night

Bringing the finale to the break of dawn

Last time I write these words, I pray