Culture Poems
Vista
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Buoyed up by the syntheses of the past,
idyllic murals of green hills open paths
to a healing truth.
What say the brown camels of Casablanca
to assassins nursing festered wounds of
new Karma?
Yesteryears recline on the shoulders of
a greying age, chanting songs to a
......
Tired
by Augusta Davies Webster
No not to-night, dear child; I cannot go;
I'm busy, tired; they knew I should not come;
you do not need me there. Dear, be content,
and take your pleasure; you shall tell me of it.
There, go to don your miracles of gauze,
and come and show yourself a great pink cloud.
So, she has gone with half a discontent;
but it will die before her curls are shaped,
and she'll go forth intent on being pleased,
......
Grave
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Grisly.
Quiet.
Dumb.
Good image, symmetrical with Tuscan tradition.
A point, magnetism; revered, upon its dull-glint;
threshed of every fibre – only tarsals
exist in singles like abandoned works of espoused painters.
Grave:
......
Faith
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
What colour is faith? –
that piece of trust in the cyst of
our pummelled heart, which thrusts up
and down the internal frescoes of our
being, slammed by nauseous dreams
we nurse and pass through on nights
that yodel atop ailing mountains
foundationed on our bleeding souls.
Early One October Morning
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The smell of humidor
Charmed the old house and
Frightened me as I ascended the
Narrow stairwell that gentle
October morning.
The song of autumn was playing
Low, and with astute grace.
Silent, the royal smell wafted between Cuba
And Denmark,
Across fat rank grass of fecund roots.
......
Mad Waters
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Mad waters come our way.
Seasons are gleaned from lean stems
beneath bloodless rocks;
thresholds, scorched, reprint footsteps
of dark ages replete with foul breath.
Alas, mad days are here.
And with clouds mourning near
disconsolate skies,
the heavens themselves lay siege on
......
Yesterday II
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Yesterday reclines on the tenuous
breath of ancestral drums,
and summons protocols for the crowning
of tomorrow.
A martinet, yonder, celebrates the sepia
aura in the spine of the vista of the last days;
atavism unfetters the imprecation of hastening
Dawns.
And angels lengthen azure apparels,
......
Yesterday
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Blithe humour yearns for
Pridian vagaries before now,
Trusting the mooring of able
Ships on clear waters of
Mirror images.
Wistful, our call on the sere
Tongue of harmattan, when
Pines whistled in unison to
Welcome straying and returning
Birds – black confetti over
......
Towards the East
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Craving the pulse of newness and
freshness of hatchlings,
dawn opens wide its door.
Towards the East,
the paterfamilias' familiar terrain of open lineage;
a lone pendant smiles.
It holds aloft the cemetery bliss,
opening buds of petals and re-greening blades
......
The Refugee Never Lied
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Burning fresco of a new-image rainbow
has glint and farewell lines for
departing birds...
The refugee pledges oaths
against lies towards the arch of a
gleaned pathway
The Way-between links Sodom
with by-way museums of salt in
......
