Family and Social Life
My Body is a Treasure
All treasures worth the name,
All treasures worth the fame,
Gold, pearl, diamond or oil
Are far less than a toy
‘Cos my body is a treasure,
A gift out of measure.
Precious metals worth the name,
To find requires much pain
Often miles from human eyes
Deep down from familiar sights
So my temple is diamond
True, this is no fun.
My body is gold,
Hidden inside the hole
Away from public eye
Meters down from common sight.
So I shall not expose my treasure
Not even for fun or leisure.
I shall honor it like a saint.
In fact, I shall dress decently
No piercings and no tattoos
‘Cos it’s a serious taboo
True, I shall preserve my treasure
Certainly not for mundane1 pleasures.
Chinua Achebe once said
Please put this into your head:
Anger against a sister or brother,
Is not felt in the bone’
So your family, never you leave in the cold.
Like a soldier, stand for mama and papa
Your siblings, never stop to pamper
Cos family is your blood and refuge
And any wrong action may lead to a deluge.
So all family members will I love
Cos all my worries would they solve.
With none will I ever be bitter
Cos blood is thicker than water.
“What is Lifel”
What is life?
I heard a man asked his wife
What is life?
I heard his wife asked him hack.
It’s the period between birth and death,
From the moment of our first breath
Till when we are ushered1 down some depda
I heard him say with little tact2.
Then like a true philosopher,
1 heard his wife say even softer
In fact it came like an audible whisper
“Life is a gift from our Master
A true gift from Father to man.
No one can make it she continued,
No one so deserves it, her eyes glowed'
No one can control it, she crowed!
Except our dearest, dearest Maker”
So when life’s good, hail the Maker
When life’s healthy, salute the Master
Cos no one so deserves if not grace by Alph
Or should 1 say by Alpha and Omega.
An Encounter With Love
Tension, tension on both ways,
Waiting for the final day,
Yes to ho delays
Please do not be late.
As the heavenly eye1 turned west and dwelled,
We met where the fair roses dwell
Faint distant buzzing2 came peering
As nectar on us came slowly pausing and dropping
The near-distant birds and falls3
Played tunes of all forms
This was the sacred time
For the secret meeting with Dyne
Clipped in love trances,
And our hearts void of all nuances
We roamed and took no chances
And later withered like winter roses.
Oh! My ideal ebony piece of nature,
You have me in capture
And you’ll certainly have me in future.
For I am nothing but your trapped feature.
If I Make a Mistake
If I make a mistake
Parents, if I miss to take
Advice or counsel from you,
Then my life’s at stake1
My future is jeopardized2
And my dreams, thrown like a dice
As I shall embrace none but vice3.
A mistake as a young girl,
Brings shame no tongue can tell
Rains frustration on parents
Makes mum parrot to her belle.
A mistake as a young boy,
Will no doubt make me a toy
Amidst all friends and parents
Killing papa’s former joy
No! I shall not make a mistake
Yes! all advice would I take
No! My life I will not stake
Yes! a bright future I will make.
O’ my dear figure 8,
Prime1 in mind as letter A
Open me your gate
A tale have I to tell
O’ my sweet ebony girl.
Touch the withered flowers
And revamp2 life in its bowers
And in spirits shall I tower3
To find my love above you hover.
Kabas, suits, cola nuts and palm wine
Ready to be drunk from horns
To seek support from the foregone
Open your heart from now on
For the sacred hug will soon be done.
O’ my guitar girl, hold dear your nature
And you’ll always have me in capture.
With love you wished me to become a doctor.
Your prayers desire me now a pilot
But my mind dances much to be a sculptor.
And my whole strength hopes not to miss this job
For kid sister, you pray she becomes wise,
To choose from all but not a job of lies
But her mind is towered to be a lawyer
And you swear in your lifetime she’ll never.
Kid brother, your namesake, wants to follow Christ
But you challenge and swear, and swear thrice
That his strength finds place in agriculture
And to take your place in your ancestral culture.
Dear parents, what shall we do?
Dear guardians, where’s our right to choose?
© 2020 Tezeh Collins