A Word is Born

The quil blots its ink and a word is born

Hot Ether

whose gorgeous aura burns lambent like ether set on fire

Girl in Mini-Skirt

because a nubile girl in mini-skirt just walked by;

Spirit Soaring

and the Spirit soars in seminal poetics;

Poet's Muse

as the Poet's mighty muse parts the skies;

Universe Rattled

then the Universe is rattled avant-garde;

Whispering Hands

as two anonymous hands whispered to a heart;

SITE HIT COUNT: 279,452  
• This page was last updated on Thur, Jan.14.2016 @07:54 PM • 

MY POETRY HOME — trespassers welcome

nysc parade Died In Her Prime Written at Home (GRA, Ilorin) — Nigeria.
(Thursday, January 18th, 2001)
Mother Earth has taken in again!
This morning the undertakers
made her to carry the late pregnancy of
a lively-looking babe: a Youth Corper.

She belonged to that category of
the other species who when they
smile for just a passing second,
men's purses will continue to weep for
a thousand days to come;
and her two splendid laps were
her best friends.

But even best friends must part someday;
So there was this young TV actor who bought her a
second-hand ring, took her to a bistro in town,
and parted her best friends at a good friend's.
Not once, not twice, not thrice...

Weeks later, she ran to
Dr. Broohaha's clinic complaining of
morning sickness, and behold,
the doctor met a great commotion in her womb —
three good-fed foetuses were having
an ominous, heated quarrel in there:

"I came in here before you both", said one.

"Don't mix your riff-raff fluids with mine",
bellowed the second.

"I shall not stay here with you
to be stigmatised, young bastards",

growled the third.

So the third foetus kicked hard, thinking
it was kicking their mother's womb,
but alas, it actually kicked the bucket
and died, blighting the other two.

Dr. Broohaha therefore had to remove them all
to save mother's precarious life.

But alas! Broohaha was a quack.

Thus he relieved the Corper's womb and impregnated
Mother Earth with the Corper's dead body.

© 2001, M-Auwal Gene III. All Rights Reserved
Download or Open PDF Version

"A rose smells better than cabbage for sure, but it never makes better soup."