No more tears by Daniel Ikekhuah.

No more tears

I feel shame when I look into the mirror;

I feel bitter to see what I’ve become.

I can’t tell my friends or family; who would believe me?

I can’t tell the police, they will only mock me.

I am that girl who people describe as little;

But you really don’t have a clue what I’ve been through.

The ones who are supposed to protect me;

End up taking advantage of me.

At sixteen I was called a pretty teen;

But daily I deal with low self-esteem.

Used and abused by the ones I look up to;

I being pushed, and might take my life if it comes to.

Marriage was supposed to be my sweet haven;

Nothing else to compare except God’s Holy Heaven.

But in the arms of the one I truly  loved;

I suffer the pain of his fist as thick as gloves.

And when he is not hitting me;

He speaks uncaring cold hearted words, stinging me.

For better fore worse was the vow I took;

But better remains oblivious,

As this journey keeps growing worse.

I am that woman next door;

We even go to the same market, in the same bus;

I am that girl in your classroom;

Who you think is being pompous in your point of view;

I am the little girl in the playground;

All by myself, ensuring no boy is around.

I yearn to tell my story

That justice would take the glory

But will you accept back in society

And not point your fingers back at me….

I beckon on you;

Come to my rescue.

Help tell my story;

That justice would take the glory.

Else I'll cry; till I have no more tears in my eyes.

by Daniel Ikekhuah

Word Up Volume 6 is scheduled for November 23, 2013 at Terra Kulture, V/Island, Lagos, with the theme, "Stop the violence." The event theme is centered around the United Nation’s “International day for the elimination of violence against women.” 

#WarOfWords - Deep Words for a Brother by Ifeanyi Bernard

There is so much I can say about this piece,
but there is so little I want to say.
Read on and you might understand why.


War Of Words - Deep Words for a Brother by Ifeanyi Bernard 

I lost a friend
And now I have a torn heart to mend.
Of course not by a shoemaker 
but by a true maker, 
God almighty and he is doing it

I need a miracle
Olorunfemi Banjoko
An Iroko, 
gone too soon like the vapour from monsoon
He was young, tender and kind hearted.
Brave, strong, intelligent
Smart, not belligerent
 He made himself an asset before he parted.


Femi, Femi,
When you became a medical doctor, you smiled with the thought that you would take care of your family--- Health wise
And when you joined the Nigerian Army, you also did smile with the thought that you would protect your family and nation at large--- Security wise
But where was the Nigerian army when you were delivered into the hands of death?
Perhaps, they were busy chasing the northern group who were formerly selling coco and ram but are now popularly known as Boko Haram.

Who knows the size of death?
It could be a giant or it could be a dwarf
It could be as large as a whale or it could be as slim as a figure like a stick of macaroni
A sound of warning!
Death is powerful!
Death is no respecter of health or wealth
The mere thought of it changes the mood
But hang on, the truth has to be told for good
The say the truth is bitter
So, I wouldn’t be surprised if you cry me a litre
Or better still, a river

You can’t bribe death with millions or billions or trillions of pounds and shillings
Or else, you would be chilling in the mortar where death would pound you at once
And reduce your weight to an ounce.
You can’t bribe death with food, if I could, I would prepare it a delicious indomie with fried eggs or fufu with ofe Egusi.
In order to be physically and mentally stable, we sit on tables to eat good food like fruits and vegetables such as carrots-carrots
But sometimes we fail to realize that when we die we all rot and only get enriched with maggots-maggots
If death were to be a handsome man like Olulu, 
the king not from Zulu, 
you can’t possibly seduce him with body hogs and mini-skirts

And if death were to be a beautiful woman like Atilola, you can’t possibly seduce her with 6 packs or 1 pack like mine.

This is my very first piece so I will sign off in peace but before I leave in peace, may the soul of Olorunfemi Banjoko and the soul of your most loved lost ones and the soul of the faithful departed rest in perfect peace. Amen

Watch the piece here

#WarOfWords - Deep Words for a Brother

http://youtu.be/EMB3UxBAwY8

Spoken Word ENTERTAINMENT versus Poetry.

Debate!

Spoken Word vs. Poetry. If a spoken word poet cannot show that they are strong on paper, should they be labeled an entertainer, NOT a Poet?

Entertainment vs. Life in Literary Motion

As a writer, I have always had a need to read my work to someone. My ear's have to hear the creative work of my mind come to life as these lips work like an assembly line. I know that I am a part of the mass majority of most other writers out there, ESPECIALLY poets. Poets tend to be odd creatures. We are very egotistical on the outside, but our true existence consists of completely insecure kindergarteners hoping and praying somebody will know that their green elephant really is a purple snowman. Enter: Poetry Readings.

Do NOT confuse poetry reading with Spoken Word Poetry. Poetry readings are held in places like libraries and tea houses...Starbucks and churches. Spoken Word Poetry Venues are just that...venues. They are loud. They are ruckus. They are spiritual. They are humanitarian. The Spoken Word is sexual and sensual...emotional and philosophical. The Spoken Word Poetry venue is ENTERTAINMENT through and through!

Which brings me to the debate at hand. Spoken Word vs Poetry. Are both Poetry? Or is Spoken Word entertainment?

My answer is this.

If a spoken word artist cannot show you their piece on paper...if that piece is not on paper without grammatical and spelling errors so drastic that you cannot easily read the piece. This person is not a poet. If a spoken word artist freestyles more than they spill ink...then I am more apt to label him/her a rapper/entertainer than a poet. If a Spoken Word artist has never even considered publishing a chapbook, I question why?

A poet writes. A poet cries tears of blood. They dream in stanzas, and wake in the wee hours of the night...unable to fall back to sleep because poetry refuses to allow it. A new poem, that new born child lying next to the Poet in the bed... whimpering and whining, screaming and crying until the Creator agrees to finish...and the Poem and Poet can sleep. This Poet? This Poet is the Poet that gets on stage and leaves sweat in pools on stage. This Poet leave tears on the cord of the mic. This is the one who steps off stage and can barely speak because everything just short of life was left on that stage in the name of Poetry. This one... is a Poet... not an entertainer.

Spoken Word vs. Poetry

Entertainment vs. Life in Literary Motion

Source:

http://mariefontaine.hubpages.com/hub/Spoken-Word-ENTERTAINMENT-vs-Poetry

Don't hate me cos I am poet (a Spoken Word Poem)

Don't hate me cos I am poet,

cos its one of the oldest profession on earth, after all,

it is written, "in the beginning was the word,

and the word was wih God, and the word was God."

So I can use my words like a sword,

sometimes I can hit out with it like an iron rod,

or use it to soothe and caress your soul,

and make u feel whole.

Don't hate me cos I am a poet,

For you might believe I am merely wasting my time,

but have you not read that, "a man's gift will create room for him and bring him before great men."

Did you not hear that, "a man diligent in his works will stand before Kings and not before ordinary people."

Though I do not mean to call you ordinary people,

but its a priviledge for you to read and see me perform for free;

what kings, Queens and all forms of Royalty pay me a huge fee.

Don't hate me cos I am a poet,

For this is the best way for me to express myself,

after all, the shortest  verse in the bible, John 11:35 said "Jesus wept."

This shows there is no shame in crying for a loved one who died.

So be not alarmed if you see me on stage with tears in my eyes,

I am merely expressing myself,

and I feel no shame for my tears.

Don't hate me cos I am a poet

For I use this means to talk about my Nation,

whose face is being perpetually rubbed in the semen of bribery and corruption.

Cos our leaders  continue to loot the treasury,

rape our sense of morality,

defy our cries for sanity

and make being honest and accountable equal to insanity.

  

Don't hate me cos I am a poet

For I can thrill your hearts with words,

words that strike your heart cords.

I can use words to do intellectual love making,

with no heart breaking,

no tears falling,

and no orgasm faking.

Just words that satisfy your heart cravings,

yet keep your body always wanting.

  

So, don't hate me cos I am a poet, cos it is what God has destined me to be,

and if you hate me, you hate God.

by Olulu, the King not from Zulu