Floetry by JulietKego: A Dirge for Nimbo…

childeren of biafra2_June1_2016

Nna anyi who will save
your children from the brink?
A drizzle becomes a flood
and the living-dead drink
from overrun rivers
of tears, pus and blood
I am lost in shivers,
cold from this shock
of an unnamed war
fought in the backyard
of my hometown


Children’s throats slit
like salah rams
(on open fields of rusty, red grass)
Bodies charred;
their ashes sprinkled
to appease
the herdsmen of horror
who lead the flock
to the slaughter-house


The elders, bent over
with agonized chants
from wrinkled
sunken faces
ka udo di, a plea for peace?
Onye ka anyi ga kolu?


A peace of the graveyard
reigns all around me
the graves await their bodies
I am farmished
feed me; biko nyem nri
My throat thirsts for waters
of truth from polluted
rivers of Nri


Oh sons & daughters:
‘Awaken from your limbo
stand tall at the gates
of the weeping hills of Udi
bury the bodies
of our people &
protect the living
at Nimbo.’

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

#125. Floetry by JulietKego: Maina’s Message for Mama

RT: @ObyEzeks “OUR of Mbalala village IS BACK!!!!!!! because ” – Twitter, May 18, 2016

 Maina’s Message for Mama

I am a little girl lost,

from Chibok.

I am the core

stench of my nation’s

festering,

rotten sore.

Ever since that night,

I dream of my mama

In dreams that I dream

of the dreams

that I dream,

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#123. Floetry by JulietKego: A Grave Conversation

Eve Ensler's Quote on Rape

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Grave Conversation

Do not come to my graveside,

weeping in whispers

afraid he will hear

I am with you child, in every breath

Adanneya, Adannaya

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#NaPoWriMo2016. Day 30 of 30 | Poem -HUG ME (Farsi Translation)

Below is the Farsi language version of my poem. [Translated by Sepi Sajadi, Toronto, Canada]. Merci.

HUG ME

Give me
a hug
No,
I need more…
Tighter
Hmmmnnn Tighter, still…
Until I disappear
Into the folds of your warmth
Release me
Only when
All pieces of you
Flow into me
Till all I am is imprinted
On the opening
Of your heart.

(c) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido. September 21, 2015.
(All rights Reserved).

[A huge thank you to the beautiful spirit, a selfless mentor who inspired and guided my words].
#TheBeautifulOnesAreAlreadyHere

Below is the Farsi language version of the poem. [Translated by Sepi Sajadi, Toronto, Canada]. Merci.

اغوش

در اغوشم گير

نه، بيشتر ميخوام

محكمتر

اووم، بازهم محكمتر

تا كه در لابلاي گرماي تو، محو شوم

رهايم كن، ..

تنها زماني كه تمام ذرات وجودت در وجودم جريان يابد

تنها زماني كه هر انچه كه هستم درون قلبت حك شود

#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 21of 30. For a Prince (Rest in Peace: 1958 – 2016)

PRINCE Floetry by JulietKego

“An original is hard to find but easy to recognize.”
~John Mason

Prince

For a Prince.

Today, the sun-clouds reign
Draped in purple splendour
Of pearly-shaped diamond stars
A prince sleeps and rests on
Beyond the firmament
Where doves fly.
(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

“PRINCE; followed by many, follower of no one. Pretty much sums it up.” ~Angela Fritz

#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 5 of 30. #125. Floetry by JulietKego: Her Tomatoes

Poems about Tomatoes NaPoWriMo Floetry by JulietKego

Sometimes, a toto tomato
is not a flaming reddish hue
because she is ripe
and ready for plucking…
Sometimes, she’s bleeding
from the inside
and it stains her life;
bruises her skin…

Her colours change
(like weathered ivory or fish
split open and bared,
punished by uncaring sons suns)

Her seeds darken
because of all the hungry,
dirty, harsh hands
that ywanked at her;
squeezed,
pricked, pierced
and fondled her,
into a forced,
rude ripening
of a dead awakening…

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

 

logo-napowrimo

And now, our (optional, as always) daily prompt! April is a time for planting things (at least where I am, in Washington DC – you may still be waiting for spring, or well into some other season!) At any rate, I’ve recently been paging through seed catalogs, many of which feature “heirloom” seeds with fabulous names. Consider the “Old Ivory Egg” tomato, the “Ozark Razorback” or “Fast Lady” cow-pea, “Neal’s Paymaster” dent corn, or the “Tongues of Fire” bush bean. Today, I challenge you to spend some time looking at the names of heirloom plants, and write a poem that takes its inspiration from, or incorporates the name of, one or more of these garden rarities. To help you out, here are links to the Southern Exposure Seed Exchange and the Baker Creek Seed Company. Also, here’s a hint – tomatoes seem to be prime territory for elaborate names. And who knows, maybe you’ll even find something to plant in your garden! Happy writing!

#NaPoWriMo. Day 4 of 30 |#124. Floetry by JulietKego: Heart break (…in slow motion)

A Grave Conversation Floetry by JulietKego

Floetry by JulietKego:

#124. Heatbreak…. in slow motion.

Alone in April,
On a fool’s day
As spring ushers in
cold memories of winter
My hands reach for a decanter
my colourless brandy’s gone
And so are the whites

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#NaPoWriMo | Day 1 of 30. Prompt -Write a lune…

LUNE for NaPoWriMo by Juliet Kego

Verses by JulietKego:

Sometimes, you are a jar
of black magic
I must drink to become.

————————

logo-napowrimo

Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of English-language haiku. While the haiku is a three-line poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on word-count, instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again. Either kind will do, and you can write a one-lune poem, or write a poem consisting of multiple stanzas of lunes. Happy writing! ~Source: NaPoWriMo.net

#122. Floetry by JulietKego – Sons and Daughters of Okigbo

No man can outwit the ancestors Quote

#NaPoWriMo Day 2

[This is not a poem; it is Floetry inspired by true events].

At Okigbo’s shrine
seeds of his loins gathered
and called out to him:

 

“Nna anyi! Nna anyi!
Ifekandu, hear us.
Biko nu, mere anyi Ebele.
Do not look away.
Mbah nu.
Your son is desecrating
the waters
The priestesses find his semen
in the holiest of rivers
His seeds scattered
across the land
(lost in the fields of shame)
Does he not know
they each carry his gifts?
That we must find them
to raise them?
Alu na eme n’obodo anyi”

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