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Tuesday, 22 September 2015

We May Have Lost It


We May Have Lost It

By George Amadi

 

There was a time

Lads roped hands

Down the lane

Without a care

In the world skipped

 

There was a time

They wore rags

Down the path

Without a care

In the world tilled

 

There was a time

They wove traps

Down the slope

Without a care

In the world fished

 

There was a time

They dug holes

Down the line

Without a care

In the world hunted

 

But in today’s world

Where lucre only counts

Growing children

A place of value

In the scheme

Of things

Occupy not

 

Watching a poor child

Drown at sea

On television

Following rejection

From nation

To nation

A thought wild

At my mind gnaws:

Have we

At last lost it?

 

Lagos, Sept. 11, 2015

 

Sunday, 18 January 2015

End-Of-Year Outing



End-Of-Year Outing
By George Amadi

Low-sugar frothy malt drink
In recycled can chilled
Right beside a chicken
Pie set before me
Sat, a straw, long
Like a radio aerial,
Sticking out from it
My vantage-view table
At a popular eatery
Monitored, as
It were, uninvited
Flies to a meal
Kept at bay
It seemed.

Yet, two on the lunch buzzed,
In utter disregard
To health concerns
Of this customer,
Whilst the pipe,
Like an enforcer
Standing by,
Into an observer,
As harmless as ever
Got transformed when
It mattered most.

But without hesitation,
Not one to be finicky,
Into a juicy pie
Worth its name
I dug my teeth,
Happy to waste time,
Relieved, watching
Closing-hour
Traffic
Build up.

End-of-year marking, pupils           
Of a private school,
In a uniform hat
All decked,
A common bow-tie
To boot,
From their luxury bus
In twos alighted,
The joint stormed,
Every bit of food
Then, snapped up.

Not long after making
Good their exit
Than did
The absent-minded
Rich boys
Return, only
To ask after
IPhones, Tablets,
Automobile-keys,
Lizard-skin wallets,
Among other
Costly belongings,
In a hurry left behind. 

Lagos, Dec. 7, 2014


Wednesday, 24 December 2014

Agony Untold



Agony Untold
By George Amadi

At the end of an enervating year
In this tropical clime, humid at
Best of times, a dry, dust-laden
Wind, catarrh to big and small
Blows, no clouds in the sky float.

Heavy breeze the ground sweeps,
Uncombed, my hair with sand fills;
Dry lips of mine at will torments
No end. Harmattan in December
Begins, howling silly till February.

But far from inclement weather,
Hidden from probing human eyes,
Agony untold at the heart-strings
Thug, teasing, cajoling, confusing,
Asking where stands now my faith.

As Christmas Day to us draws near,
Minute by minute, every second
Counting, my memory, try as hard
As it may, no punches pulled, yet,
A painful past needs to vamoose.

Lagos, Dec. 24, 2014
   









Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Village Square



Village Square
By George Amadi

No longer of nocturnal howls
Stands in awe; of masquerade,
Still looking for the right word,
In admiration stands no end.

Gone are those days of trifles
When his bed-wetting smells
Parents and elders overlooked,
With fondness a child petted.

Gone are those days of trifles
When with pebbles, a catapult,
Gangling archer a dozen birds
Felled, away stashed in the kitty.

Gone are those days of trifles
When out of a sherry tree fell
Teen-aged hunter who, all night
Long, after a rub-down, groaned.

All grown, before a village excited,
Stands a man by hard work, virtue
Tempered; able, ready a family to
Raise vows, eliciting joy and praise.

His peers in an age-grade mature
Classed, their manhood in valour
Clothed; they with the elders palm-
Wine at the village square shared.

Lagos, Oct. 19, 2014









Domestic Violence



Domestic Violence
By George Amadi

Little known, a fair-weather woman’s
War-chest, in marriage, by whims and
Caprices, without guilt pains, inundated,
By bullets, fusillade horrendous, no less,
At domestic violence build-up targeted,
Not a few husbands naive, indeed, fools.

Little known also, and to be noted, writ
Large, the manipulative ways of many a
Castle’s governess who no prisoner take;
Their divide-and-rule tactics’ pole upon
Which stands hoisted an invisible flag of
Deception, route to polygamy may lead.

At the feet of any who as bread-winner
Emerges, does each to worship hearken,
Not at all minding if such person happens
To be a dirty, household’s low-esteemed
Servant; so long as her needs are served,
Honour, pride, dignity for nothing stand.

Lagos, Dec. 23, 2014