₦airaland Forum

I will copy and keep this poem. Thank you, sir.

Laykorn, you are a great man. I really appreciate this poem. It goes a long way........

timpaker:
Thanks bro.
Okay, a quick guess.....who is the 'Pot' and who is the 'Kettle'?

uhmmm.... Can I really guess right? Juxtaposing the relationship between South Africa and Nigeria during apartheid and now, xenophobia? Tell me, please.

The poem is socko!!! I love it. Thanks for sharing, sir.

laykorn:
Your WhatsApp seems not be working. I'm getting only a tick here.

Oh! No wonder I haven't gotten any notification since morning. Let me check it.

laykorn:
Hehehe. Everyone keeps repeating the same thing about the poetry section. I think it's great to be missed for good things.

How are you brother and how is the club faring under the new administration?

Yeah, it's great. I have been so scarced on NL. Tight schedule and besides the 'owners' of my phone have taken it, leaving me with one small phone like that.

What's up? How's your program? Let's chat. Catch y' there.

Laaaaaaykorn! How're you? BTW, nice poem you've got there. I missed you, bro. The poetry section missed you.

D9ty7:
Prof, good evening. Where have you been? And what the hell happened to Patron of matrimony?

Prof ke? Nooo. It's school wahala. How have you been doing, sir? I love your contributions.

And eh, Patron of Matrimony, I will continue when the 'change' begin to manifest. I, too, am tired of 'you are good', 'ride on'.

Ishilove:
Very true about the competition part. It was through a competition that we got to know Royver, Nuges11 and OMA4U.

I remember Royver's entries about angels and one thief that got sucked into the netherworld because he was trailing one widowed mama to steal from her. I was cringing as I read the story

Wow! Nairaland Literature Section! So these men are still around and they choose to keep their critiquing eyes and hands fallow. Anyway, I greet you all.


I hope something productive will come out of this. Madam Ishilove, thanks for the mention and everyone who has contributed to this. God bless you all.

...He who must do crime
Must first sell his heart...

This poem really potrays CRIME. Nice poem from A BOSS.

What a great way to spend the weekend. Thank you, big brother. You have made my weekend with stunning updates.

The long awaited Black Maria is here. Sir, your ink lured me into this place. Fire on ...........

timpaker:
Heheheheheeheh.. I don't know but I find this poem hilarious
The piece is highly picturesque and captivating.

OMA4U, may your ink never run dry...

Funny ba? Those were the wonderful things we did as kids. But now life has taken another direction.

joseph1832:
Like seriously? Sounds strange that a nigerian child can contemplate suicide... I've often thought suicide was alien to nigerian children.

Nice poem all the same.

Thanks, bro.

texanomaly:
Oh OMA I'm so sorry Hun. I had no idea your childhood was so unbearable. No wonder you are such a good writer. The best writing comes from pain more often than happiness unfortunately.
((hugs))

Yeah. Childhood experiences shape the way I see things and as well reflects in my writing.

Thanks for the hug. It's cosy and warm like the radiation of flames during harmattan season.

JigsawKillah:
WoW


OMA
I did most of the things mentioned there but didn't try to kill myself lol
kids these days don't play, the world is now too dangerous for that

Seriously, as a kid I attempted suicide many times. Life was so meaningless to me and death always seem to be the panacea.

texanomaly:
OMA you are a true craftsman of words. Every time I read one of your poems or stories, I'm swept away to that place in my mind. You bring my senses alive, and I'm there in the scenes you so eloquently describe. Thanks

Hey! I'm so so glad to have your review here. Thank you so much. Your comment is my fuel.

Thanks for posting this great information.

Alas! The World Became an Empty Drum

Alas! The world became an empty drum

when you thump it, it resonates a scary sound
thunderous blast of bullets and dense smoggy sky
the fragrance of gunpowder and debris dancing above.
From afar I have seen it coming as my eagle-eye peered
through the dusk to see the drum of the gone world.

Those nightfall when we sat, forming an unbroken chain
around the storyteller, fearless of the night missiles.
We sat watching the corona revolving around the moon
and to listen to moonlit tales of grandma's favourite tortoise

we pushed tires across the bumpy roads and t-junction streets
barefoot and bare-chested, unafraid of bullets that might spray.
Then, our world was filled like a drum of sacred water sanctified
with juvenile candour, ignorance, and infinite innocence

we molded an abode above our feet with thick mud
even when we never were worried to own a single room
we ran on a cloudy day and saw the sky chasing us
we ran, fearless of the mirage, seeing the sky falling upon us

we would set the kite in a race through the vacancy
daring the deadly crash that might befall the earth
we danced naked in the rain, mindless of insanity.
Then the world was silent. Serenity canopied our juvenile sky.

Ignorant of my worthy sojourn, I world grab
the naked strip of electric copper when beating
or sometimes jumped from the storey so I could die
and plastered tears on the cheek of hers who beat me

But I saw it flowing, the leakages beneath the juvenile drum
and I looked as the sacred water trickled out. I looked
as ages mounted ages, I saw it becoming dark
the bright sun retreats her rays and the dim hues rule over

the once trodden soil we dipped our legs becomes hot
and spurs us into perpetual race after insatiable wants
we die of unborn fears even before the black angel knocks
we walk in fast pace, ducking the fragments of Haramic bombs

At the defiance of the owners, we watch as dear lives
are vigorously pluck like the feathers of a Christmas chicken
and teeth gnashing in a conflagration like a roasted bush meat
we live wide exposed to inhumane peril of the mad menacers

I saw it leaking, till the volume became minute
the drum of old innocent, fearless days grew empty
the rays of sun that once shone dissipates into the black sky.
I heard it booming, the destructive sound of fatal iron balls
the fragrance of gunpowder and debris dancing above

Alas! The world became an empty drum

Tag: Timpaker
Everestdebliu
Krystalxxx
Buqqui
Firestar
Gloriaz
Johnbright
JigsawKillah
Oahray
Texanomaly
LarrySun
Ishilove

Thanks for reading.

Wow! See poem in Christmas gown. So beautiful..... I love it. I wish my name was infused. Betty88, thumbs up!

joseph1832:
LMAO. My friend you are not lazy, infact you're far from it. I write poems so even the common man can understand when he reads it.

A lesson I learned from reading Wole Soyinka's write ups and Chinua Achebe's write ups.

I love this poem. So nice. But you were wrong about WS and I'm sure you never read him. Moreso, write poem as the spirit leads, not trying to write so that even a poetic mindless man will understand. GREAT WORK OF ART! I hope to read more.

laykorn:
You're good around words sir. I wonder why you don't do poetry.

Ayamlaykorn

LarrySun is not tantamount to words, He is words himself. If I'm good around words as he does, uhmm I will .....

LarrySun:
I hear the echoes. They reverberate through my consciousness. They speak lofty languages. They bounce off the walls, like a ball of rubbery threads. The walls are dancing.

Amazing poet! He mesmerizes. He captivates. He enchants!

This is socko!

Yes! You hear the echoes. It's tiny, but amazing; amidst thousand of barbarian voices, the voice is so clear and distinct. I'll eternally be grateful that I came once to the world and I fortunately met Larry Sun out of billions of buyers in this market square.

laykorn:
Oma, lol. Why them no move this? Maybe they're scared people will say you pay them.


Someone said it anyway and asked how much you pay them to move your threads.

When next they ask, remember to tell them you're a good poet and that solves it.
Ayamlaykorn

lol... That's why I love people because of the hysterical laughter they throw into my mouth.

The fact is I never knew I made frontpage. Those poems have been lying unread on my pc for a while before I decided to share so I could get criticism.

jerrymej:
Can't wait to see more from you!

Have your read 'Echoes of my Voice'? Check it out. Thanks.

texanomaly:
I've known you were talented for some time OMA, but this and your last poem are "master poet" quality. Impressive.

Hey! Thank you, Tex. I'm so so happy for your gracious comment.

laykorn:
AMEN!
By the way. Dammy, why you never sleep?
Ayamlaykorn

Time to catch up with uncompleted activities the Sun left in my palms before she went abed.

adeshola1:
This is a master piece, thumbs up

You deserve the thumbs up, sir. Thanks for commenting.

jerrymej:
Woo it's cool bro!
I love the Rhymes
And I love read it over and over again.



Thumb up.

Thanks. I'm glad you love it.

LarrySun:
Another awesome piece by an awesome writer. This young man is an embodiment of ingenuity. What makes him tick? What gears, what levers, what machinery work in his head? All meshing perfectly; oiled by brilliance.

Three words for you, sir: God bless you.

joseph1832:
This is cool!. Speaks volume.... First Krystalxxx now you. You guys see blood.

Thanks boss.