POEMS FROM MY BIBLE.

PHOTO CREDIT: AMAZON.

EDITED BY: THEUNUSUAL_WRITER.

"Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words"~ Edgar Allan Poe.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the characters, businesses, in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“LEFT WITH NO CHOICE”.

"Akuchi slipped and fell.

Just outside the kitchen door

She feared for the koboko her mother had swung in her direction.

She was a fool at 25.

And in Baba’s words

“Too foolish to make wise decisions,” especially that which concerned a man

A father is in the best place to see a good man and nod his head in approval.

And a mother is in the second place to pick a man just like her husband for her daughter.

And if he happened to be an onye na-eti nwunye or an alaroro

She would spit on the ground and pray her chi to reject such a fate.

As for the supposed daughter

She was in no place to choose a suitable man for herself.

What did she know after all?

Blinded by tiny eyes and bulging biceps.

Akuchi’s mother had chosen Tamara-Layefa.

Edede’s grandson

The overly tall man with a goatee

He was managing a clerical job in the city.

And lived in a one-room apartment.

“He is responsible enough!”

Maami said.

As children,

Tamara had chased Akuchi around her mother's hut.

And his Edede would always call her

“Our wife”.

God forbid, Akuchi would marry a poor man.

A man her father was richer than

Tufiakwa!

She preferred an illiterate man with all the money in Nigeria, or better yet, a rich old politician.

Those ones that treat money like rags and rest their oiled, manicured feet’s on it.

Sighs.

But then, as life would have it, 

At 27, she grudgingly dragged her feet into Tamara’s house on the night of her wedding.

Followed by Kemka and Winmi, her sisters.

They had yam and pepper for dinner,

after which he caressed her and tugged at her angry face."

"SWEET TURNS SOUR."

"From a distance

Silently and quietly

With all the world's noise drumming in my head;

The naked pictures a celebrity's enraged lover put up

The banter between a fan and another fan

The gruesome murder of a day-old child found in the gutter at Ojota

The bigamist!

I observed what was supposed to be a beautiful flower.

It’s eyes piercing deep into mine.

It’s pollen being drained out of it.

By an unseen, hardened hand

I watched it wither.

With the ticking of the clock

And the “kpa-kpa” of a hustler's steps

There was no more love to give.

No more beauty to showcase

And even if there were

It had a bit of bitterness in it.

And a jar of uncertainty running over it.

In the nooks and crannies

In the heights and hills

In the clefts of Zuma Rock

Lies a bed full of sweet-smelling roses.

How many can walk there on foot?

Or take a horse or a donkey, even

How many have the faint blood called patience running through their veins?

How many believe?."

"OUT OF MY REACH."

“I want to run. Run far away.

As fast as my legs can carry me

I want to run to a place

That does not exist in this world. 

Away from the eight planets

And the elements in the sky

Where money grows on trees

Where luscious mangoes fall from their massive trees

Where the streams bring water as clear as day

I want to run to a place

Where my degree does not determine who I am.

Where my talents are placed on a billboard for all to see.

Where the systems of the world do not dictate who I should be,

I do not need to know Mr. A or Mr. B

To have what should be mine

Or get what I deserve.

A place where I can be the king in my own jungle.

Chuckles.

My first thought was an animal kingdom.

But I would have to bring the lion to my feet while celebrating my feat.

But even the tortoise would outsmart my wise ways.

And duplicate my wise sayings.

And the goat, with all the defiance in the world

Would flout all my orders and make me feel like an ọmọ kekere.

So I’d say if wishes were horses

Then beggars would ride."

Short Glossary:

(In Igbo)onye na-eti nwunye: wife beater.

(In Yoruba) Alaroro: Stingy person

(In Yoruba) ọmọ kekere. : Small child.

THE END.

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