A lost song
I don’t stand out famous
Like Mandela’s cell
Or Soyinka’s cloud head
Or obj’s false faces.
I stand out dumb
Like a sore thumb, a pain
Exiting sudden fragrance across seas
To nostrils that wait.
I don’t wish for a papa’s grey hair
But to sit, rocking on his lair,
Singing to the floating winds
A song lost in the wombs of a memory.
Orike Didi 04: 15 DWP,03/August/2008.
poem by Orike Didi
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Walls (4)
I shall dip my tongue in the sea
and wave farewell to freedom;
it is not far from mile stone-cold.
eagles hover above rooftops
of burning warri
with flame-guns to light
candles in the calm sea.
young horns howl in the night
to tear apart the old fortress
breeding witches to dance
on the grave of the future.
It is not too far from stone-cold,
I shall dip my tongue in the sea
and wave farewell to freedom.
poem by Orike Didi
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Walls (10)
The sin of yesterday
has become the evil of today,
the drummers of yore
are still the dancers of now,
and who will dare stop the long laughter
in the short poem.
The murderers then
are the official hangmen of today,
the illness of the pst
is the epidemic of now,
and the long laughter in my poetry
is no sin.
They who sin daily are crowded
with judgment
and they sin more to avert
more judgment,
and the long laughter will remain with the
shortest poem.
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poem by Orike Didi
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