Seven Point Wetin?

The town crier’s voice,
The message of his gong
Roared into homesteads,
Harassing hungry villagers,
Angry villagers,
Huddled together in subdued anger,
In haunted homesteads,
Homesteads haunted
By angry guardian Angels,
Angry at recurrent barter
Of patrimony at election times.
The town crier’s mean voice,
The message of his compromised gong
Continued to charge
At sleep soaked eardrums.
“The anointed
Whom you elected
Comes soon to our land
With seven point agenda”,
The town crier roared.
The village wit,
Drunk with early morning sleep,
Stirred and spoke,
“Seven point wetin?”.
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Canaries from Arabia

Like a cuckold
Listening in resignation
To moans of pleasure
Of spouse laid
Onto bed of adultery,
We sit near chatterboxes
To listen to tales
Of infirmity
Of onye isi ala,
Custodian of our sovereignty.
Canaries from Arabia
Where medicine men
Mutilate organs of our nationhood
Sing different songs,
Confusion rain in torrents.
The flocks now roam
This expanse without shepherd,
Lions stalk
And sniff aroma of mutton.
Wolves
And hyenas assemble also
To partake
In the imminent feast.
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Rape of Rinda (2)

……And so her children,
sober and subdued
searched in vain
for men of medicine
to mend,
Rinda’s once beautiful body,
flogged with turgid tentacles
of rabid rapists,
still strutting
and smacking lips
smeared with sweet wines.
Enter poets of Piland,
carrying pots from Muse
pouring sweet lullabies,
luring Rinda to life
while men of rape watch
and massage their manhood,
ready to repeat
rape of Rinda.

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(All poems By Chidi Anthony Opara)