#71. Floetry by JulietKego: Let the Scales Fall Off.

Patience and Wisdom

Floetry by Julietkego: Let the scales fall off

Child, slow down, slow down, be patient
do not force the scales off of life’s eyes
Learn from the greys on my balding head
Listen to the voice of regret and glory
at things undone and words unsaid….

Wait for time, soon you’ll see,
the scales will fall off when they’ll fall off
And you will see the world within and around,
reveal her mysteries like a dancing peacock
The scales of life will fall off when they will fall off
Ride the natural waves and rhythms of nature,
flow with the universe,
in the direction of rivers
for we are all one of many rivers
of one lonely dream.

You cannot force
the public hair to grow
or budding breasts to sprout
because a girl stomps her feet
and proclaims herself a grown maiden.
When the seed of time is ripe
and only when it’s ripe
will her fruits of womanhood
be softened and ready for plucking.

And my child, it’s same
with everything else in life.
Let things rise naturally like tides,
let them fall gracefully like rains.
Allow rivers of things and people
flow into your life and space,
also accept and let them go
when their season is done.
Dark, cold clouds loom,
and a price has to be paid
when we shift and force the scales.
Pain and suffering bloom
when we fight with the order of things.

The feeble, cola-chewing old man,
who thinks himself a sharp,
solid shaft of a man,
abandons the beloved wife of his youth,
runs off and marries a maiden;
ndi anya cham, cham, cham,
(with nipples that poke his eyes)
must now divorce his sleep,
work twice as hard on his softness
to keep her satiated and calm.
Or like a strung-out skittish sheep,
she falls off limply and follows
those young,
crotch-grabbing, gum-chewing,
whistling suitors,
disguised as sheppards,
waiting on standby
like wounded,
wolfish hawks,
at the gates of his cold hut.

Everything follows a pattern,
nature gives and nature takes
Sometimes sunsets follow sunrise
Like a sullen, seeking shadow
And life is like the breadfruit,
you must press out the seeds
to discover her flavours for yourself;
if they’re sweet, bitter or sour.
You can never find the direction
of your soul on the wrinkled map
of a deceitful, (open and lovely) face.

By their (in)actions,
you’ll find the spirit of wo(men)
clearly revealed under the sun
in no distant time, some dreams
will melt under her gaze and
others, will harden like clay.
Wait for time, soon you’ll see,
the scales of life will fall off
only when they’ll fall off.
Who we are will be unveiled
under the secret shadows
of a morose, mocking moon.

 

© Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido, 2015 (All rights reserved).

#1. AKWÉKÉ

Juliet Kego Ume Onyido Speaker trainer Poet Poem AkwekeA Poem for every woman who waited and for those who wait still…
AKWÉKÉ

My grandmother,
your great-grandmother
whispered words of wisdom
that I did not understand
and I threw them away
like worthless grains of sand..

And I, Akwéké
waited for you; my unborn
but you never came
seasons changed

the rains into arid air
little boys grew into warriors
maidens into sages
and yet you never came.

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#79. A Grandmother’s Whispers

‘Child, face your fears and embrace your power,

pursue your passions and follow your purpose

have a date with destiny, dare to grab your dreams

Even when you derail, rise and get back on your path

Revel in only whom and what make your soul sing

and beam with joy, with light and with love’s delight…’

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#78. Between the old and the status quo

Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido Poem Between the old and the status quoPray tell, what is the choice?
Are we to choose between
a maze and a labyrinth?
Lost in confusing patterns
So many road, so many traps
Or the lone road that leads
To a place we know not yet.

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#77. Lagos on my mind; Las Gidi state of mind.

Listen to the AUDIO Version of the poem below.

Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido Poem-Lagos on my mind, Las Gidi state of mind

 

Las Gidi state of mind

The go – slow; the maddening traffic,

the jarring fast pace,

‘Ojuelegba? ‘Owa, owa’; the yelling and yapping

of crazy Molue and Danfo drivers.

Mama put and isiewu joints,

Amid the stinky smells of oceans and rivers

The fierce, obsessive, relentless race

to outrun giant, gutsy Eko rats

The runs, the hustle, the bustle,

(Eko for show),

Hustlers, hoping to hammer

————–

 

The Island, high-society; awon big boyz and gals

-Meet Jenifa’s crowd and crew

Caught in the designer madness, the endless chase

Under-the-bridge thugs and day-dreamers,

planning their next strike at the high-rise tricksters;

-the big spenders, the takers, movers and shakers,

moving fast-forward, then lost in reverse.

Rockstar-pastors and their sheeple,

trading big dreams for hard currency,

all in a polluted maze of fleece!

————–

 

Mainland, Ajegunle – AJ city, Eko Atlantic,

Slum hummers, jungle drummers,

Iyana Ipaja to Ajah, Lekki to Okokomaiko,

I love my Eko o [(♪, ♫)].

The exotic paradise of the combined beat

Shoprite designer rice, side by side with my Agege bread,

Faking it, making it, celebrating the mess and the madness

————–

 

Aje-butter, aje-pako,

Mushin-living, Louboutins-wearing, accent-forming,

welcome to our crazy land;

Redeemed by our sacred love for this soulful Island!

Tribe and tongue forgotten under the Island heat,

With love and passion we meet and greet,

screaming with swag from afar:

Bawoni? Kedu? How far?

The only currency accepted here are big, bold dreams.

————–

 

Las Gidi born, Las Gidi bred,

Together, we dare to follow our dreams,

Finding our unique light in the darkness, UP NEPA!

All united in this crazy prayer and anthem:

Eko oni baje o![(♪, ♫)]

Lagos, always on our minds,

eternal dreamers

in a Las Gidi state of mind.

(c) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido 2015 (All rights reserved).

[Image source: Author’s, self-created; copyright-free content]

#76. Brassière

 

Warcoal Red Bra PoemWarcoal, Warcoal,

I’d never expected

You’d fit snugly so!

Caressing my skin

in tan nudes, whites, reds

and dark colours of charcoal.

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#75. A Letter from Yonder

 

Adorable Adaora, Adanneya, Adannaya

Keeper of my future, daughter of my heart

I pray my words, wrapped in the winds

Blow gently and find you keeping well

I hear your legs are beginning to swell

All that kicking is bound to take its toll

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