Are you a comforter?

Or an Armageddon of the bed?

You forced sunshine into the night,

Your exploits echoed fear and joy

Into the annals of the born and unborn

You break human walls

In a vulnerable community,

welded by race and ethnocentrism.

I met you first in a car–

A lonely destination,

And you showed so much compassion.

You overlooked my dark colour,

Something you watched with your own eyes

Yet you accepted me wholeheartedly

Crushed long-held family conventions,

Built traditions that mend pots

engravings sharper than a razor blade

to give this beautiful life

that the first poem I wrote

echoed you.

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Brain Father

Man of vision and ambition yet an available friend for all

Nurturer of my brain children(poems)

Potential instrument in my career

With motherly care have you held my hands and taught me to walk in the field of writers

You took hold of a fatherly duty and lead me on the road of knowledge

With compassion and love did you lend me a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on

Showing to me, the very definition of true friendship

Helping me release my writing potentials; you made known to me you are the Boss!

An arduous role yet you played all

Raw as my poems are, you make them best for readers

Today! you are the reader

Oh how I wish I could make it best for you

This is however the breadth of my piece

Like fine wine however, I know

I will age with time!

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To The Drunkard’s Daughter

We like to drink,
We love to drink,
We live to drink,

We like drinking,
We enjoy drinking,
We worship drinking,

We drink for the gods
We drink to quest their needs,
We drink to hear their good words

We drink for our ancestors
We drink to connect with their sailors
We are drunk to see their trailers

We do not respond to our names in it
We respond to the gods’ names in it
We fill our ancestors’ hunger in it

We don’t intend a bad name for another,
We replaced worries with candor.
We take out enjoyment for demeanor.

We know it’s our identity;
We bought it with our sanctity.
We carry it on our heads like impossibility.

We know it’s a headcover
We never intend to handover
We know you will comeover

We are sorry you bear our act
We know you hated this fact.
We are thankful for taking pride in our pact.

We know how you felt.
We understand your burst
We apologize for our heist

Al Latif Kambo-Naa

This poem was written as a sequel to Sugar Kpiebaya’s The Drunkard’s Daughter
“Its Father’s day, people are celebrating their Father’s, what do you have to say about your father today? Here is what I have to say…”


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My dear Rain Mermaid❤️

I knew no rage,
I don’t have a scene anger
I don’t spite so easily

It’s not because I’m invincible,
Not because I do not feel
But because I do not gather venom

I’m known to shoot last shots
I never missed a shot too
Neither have I wasted a target

My rain mermaid ❤️

The power of my aroma
sparks a talking tom, talking
A dancing eyes stops–agape

Hm! The leer of my tongue,
Makes the billy goat handover its odor
And its canal knowledge also.

Yet its being two years,
Since I last shot a shot
And it was the 25th target.

My rain mermaid❤️

Ever since I met you,
In that beautiful trotro on a dusty road
To the junction of School junction

You remember those vibes you gave,
That beautiful smile,
They never leaves my thoughts,

Despite being Kwame Nkrumah,
Of colonized minds,
Separating superhumans from chaffs

My rain mermaid ❤️

Remember I told you of effects,
One night, Old enough to bear witness,
When you scooped all the leftover residue.

I told you of readiness too,
Yet I never intended to shoot a shot,
But a cunning tongue unleashed an arrow,

You know the night I rebirthed you,
Renamed you as rain mermaid under a mild downpour
I became a son of the rain goddess too.

My rain mermaid❤️

Our midnight chats has been rooted,
Open minded, candid, and blunt.
A nightingale heard telling things about you.

Brimming appetite to such heightened level,
That I never knew anybody could touch;
Any mortal, born of loins–flesh and blood

Yet your “terrible luck” proved a key,
Opening a lock, made of diamond;
Never had there been a key to this.

My rain mermaid ❤️

Aha! Didn’t the world thought me crazy,
For not compromising on anything?
Yet tomatoes smile upon my sight.

I know you are in a middle of dilemma,
Left leg forward, right leg backward,
Sensing something abnormal,

Ahem! Abnormality only troops your doorstep,
For when a snakes develop buttocks,
The world goes asunder.

My rain mermaid ❤️

Love! Oh ho! What an emotionally hang up?
Hysteria on physical appearances; reality loss, huh!
And many others can’t connect the dots.

But in my realm of consciousness,
Love–a negotiated piece of jewel–
Required compromise and consensus.

And love is a complimentary ticket,
A partnership to propelled each to higher levels,
Bringing each others best capabilities

My rain mermaid ❤️

Love is not what they say it is; elusive beauty–
Yet it’s companionship,
Shouldering a head without a pillar,

Love is marriage; not mirage,
Providing comfort and satisfaction,
And reproducing; When there’s none to offer.

Love is friendship in confidence,
A platform of reliability and trust,
This is what they won’t say it is.

My rain mermaid❤️

You have scooped out my intestines,
Emptying the little secret I nursed on love,
And numbness griped my mind.

This only happens,
When the Ashen sky meets the blueish sea
At the planks of ocean at the Atlantic.

I am only but human,
With driven feelings and affection,
Which landed at your doorstep like a meteorite.

My rain mermaid ❤️

I don’t know how to call it?
Maybe it’s love, or deserts,
Connected by two Rivers.

But it lacks the kohl decorated eyes,
A very bright iris, lining a black pupil,
And a pointed African nose.

I know it wasn’t love–beautiful,
And not what they say, “will end in tears”
Because it’s a long way from home.

My rain mermaid ❤️

They say two types of water shared the sea,
Though same territory,they never shared goals.
We can as well share a space too.

As I talk to you in monologue,
I am in stasis–somnambulism, Walking away;
Singing (far-faraway into freedom…)

My rain mermaid, I know! You know!
But don’t let the dog eat us,
To make good of good again from unfettered freedom.

My Rain Mermaid,
It’s yours Affectionate,
Son of Rain Goddess.

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There comes a time, when you look forth and back but to imagine the clock was still.
The memories of a pleasant companion raided by the course of time.
I never can stop but to think about the old good days, when nights were morning and pains clouded by the pleasure of your company.

Who will be my confidant when you are gone?
Who will make me smile again when I\’m drowned in tears?
Who will I share my painful experience of the little stipend I was given and expected to manage?
Who will be there to tell me how much value I control just to make me believe in myself?
Who should I turn to?

Like the rising of the sun, I wake up every morning to your absence.
The pain of your absence never leaves, just as the statue of lots wife, your image is captured in my heart.
The pleasant grooves is a memory I always wish to come alive.

I never knew time was a great thief who should be imprisoned but was let loosed like Barabbas.
Had I known to pause the shortened fun days but to divine my dominion was limited.
For thy worth, my lineage must tell your tale.

By: Nwodo Walter Onyebuchi (WALTER PETER\’S)

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My highly raised eye brow widens
Stunned in my quest
To unravel the mysteries
Behind the vibes of the rhythms

I puzzled the riddles
With a smiley but sweaty face
But she smiled calmly
Having the keys to my puzzles

The once confined dove
Faintly outspoken
But undeterred from focus
Now controls a battalion of her oppressors

Boss lady she’s called by her folks
Pride of the Saharans
Waxing with an aura of greatness
True feminist of the amazon





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The greatest interest of love,

Is in the mist of the heart

Until world is no more,

And the earth melt away,

Let’s hold unto it,

Until sun shines no more,

And the moon turns

As red as the blood,

Let’s reach the climax

Until roses are no more,

And lilies wither away

Let’s cling to each other

Until the singer sings no more,

And poet fails to write

Let’s hold on to the climax…

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