Dear lover, I am sorry for my late reply
Learn you’re leaving Wuhan and will be at Italy
Before coming back to Nigeria. I am so happy
I want you to know there is a curfew on the street
It is difficult to see a lizard, butterfly, and birds
But it is not difficult to see gecko, cockroach and crickets
I am so excited by the songs of wine they provide as
I self isolate… in lonliness and misery and hunger massage
My tavern is open as the street of Spain
Near, the door stood the rye of salvation
Nothing can stop my kisses and embrace
I read about a new belch that separates
And stop men from loving and hugging
Nothing can stop me from licking the scars
On your inciting lips lumping the door of my longings
Nothing can stop me from touching your linseed face
In them I see the longing soul that beauty and time obstruct
In them freedom reclaim and birds, butterfly and lizard I see
(c) Martin Ijir 2020
Some few men sailed with Columbus nosetruth, pandemic, deception, enough is enough
This time an American covert dealings
aimed to discover coronary that will make
Their gourds to filled with euros, yens & mighty dollars
The pounds of the flesh used in the Wuhan laboratory
Is raw with climate change temperature, aiming to wipe
humanity’s love, peace and sorrow
a new genome that will wipe out Africa & third world countries
Mistakenly they forgot that tropics boils the sun
Our ebony skin is full of softies so is the softies of our ebony blood
Some few men sailed across the Wuhan wall
In icing igloo faced hoodwinked covid 19 was created
These same men possessed the cure
When their safe is filled up, cure will come
They hinder social life and shutdown economies
These few men have a bunker of raw stash, living in isolation
Giving termites their loaf of share, and human loaves of covid 19
They provide humanitarian service as charity
How could charity works when there is no pandemic?
How will donor give willingly when the have-nots are not in IDP’s camp?
Luckily enough, covid 19 is meant for the rich
Soon a cure will come, million of dollars already spreads
These same men will donate their resources in gimmick deception
To lure many into their eeries of silence
I am hiding in my room afraid to be victimized
Though weeping knocks at night, joy opens the door at day
When you see these men mauled them with fangs of laughter
(c) 2020 Martin Ijir
These blizzards wreak the songs of togetherness
through the night all sounds are unheard
but the songs of the razing fire thatch I felt
the noise of the striking axes passing through deathless
spirits, bumping flies that missed their path
I can hear the songs of agony,
render by their sleeping spirit
beclouding the lids of my eyes, my hands
shivers as a stroke of canvass spited on my heart,
an unbearable cloud passing its enchanting chasm
so much pain, seized tears paints the picture of my frame.
(c) 2020 Martin Ijir
The mad man
Long before now, long before time was infused inside my soul. Before I was sent to the earth. Near the stream containing many shrubs I walk on, elegantly without fear, shame, and harm. I have seat my self in those sullen water, i guessed nine months or thereafter. I was threaded with the placenta of birth and death. Betrothed to life scorching sun, smiles of bitter rain and lustrous muses of scavenging for the nuts to nourished my body, unite my spirit and guides the soul to manage his genderless attributes back to where time wasn’t created. I have walked a million time to the stream, casting my net daily, catching nothing. Even the little tadpoles which a child catch without suffering I alone couldn’t lay my net on. I have lost none inched of a hope because I targeted the daily calmness of the stream. If i could not get hold of the beings on water at least I can pluck the flowers near the stream on terrestrial abode. I walk to the flower, with songs of conquest. She smiles as nature, baring the regalia of wild purple, waving her nectar in silent wickedness. The wilderness that separates the flower from the stream encamp countless bees that sleeps and enjoy their sun, conversing with the gloom of their wings as they chat. I fluttered myself into this trap. I was stung by the bees. I became a madman. Having no fishes, no shell, no pebbles, no gold, no flower. I am having nothing and carrying nothing inside my haversack bag, as I am going to be infused back into the cubits were time end as a soul.
(c) Martin Ijir 2020
We have travel from shop to shop seeking for what holds breathing in human’s nostril. Each shop we visited stalls our conversation with groceries, butter, tuna fish and fired spreading meat. Always the can milk stared at me whenever I stepped to a shop. The glance at her eyes invites patronage like a whore showing the lameness of her beauty. I hated each ounce of the milk that trudge the premises of thinking. The long rigasa train where banditry sleeps waiting for merchants to kidnap, stood at the dim night as we speed pass. I held the rails tightly, for I have heard of the tempting water of those kidnappers, and wish not to be their honoured victim. For I am only a merchant seeking the house that helds countless breathe. Something inside me whispered, let go off your hands from the rails. And see the dynamic of an invisible shop waiting your arrival! There you would have answers to your cajoling question. Foolishly, I let go the rails. For I love the words in obey and command. I am left sobbing in bruised excitement and tapping drops of breath gaping behind my soul. Truly, this impracticable journey consumed whoever voyage her path calmly. I can’t be dead, I say…
(c)2020 Martin Ijir
There’s someone that occupies your heart
Like the air in the sky she journey through you
She creates a new smile and erased your sorrows
Like ocean you heard her tides when she’s absent
There’s someone so special you feel her love
When the days became dark she brings a light
Like the moon she shines inside you in amorous posture
Like a pasture she feeds your troubling soul with love
She becomes like an oasis in your desert journey
She enchant your heart to call her name for she’s your breathe
(c) 2019 Martin Ijir
I thought I found love, I lost it,
I only found the beauty that love gives.
It blinds my soul and breaks my heart,
for all I do, it is your image I see.
How could this love link us as one!? An
insanity that makes my soul to be open:
a feeling that closed the lid of my mind.
It is yours, do whatever you feel with it?
But don’t trick me with your shard shadow;
for I found the lost love,in the love I thought was lost.
(c)2019 Martin Ijir
Under the tree where love visited us
And take us into the woods down to the forest
Where fears erased in our mind
As love leads the way.
I could remember when rain beats me
When I accompanied you home, how late it was
I don’t care, I enjoyed the logjam and wish it lasted
How love makes my body so dried
As I felt your presence, how you called me
To come online so we chat, and to know how safe I am
how you despise your boyfriends because you’ve discovered
The one whose soul is one with yours.
How proud I am to be by your side!
How jealous many felt when we walk together
Then the rumours of me having your carnal knowledge resonates into my ears,
I was happy because I am being talked about
How we discovered the hidden treasure on the tree
Where we sat and read the love in our soul
How your unmade hair, brings the glowing beauty in you
I was tempted to touched them and caress them with my hands
To feel the scents of the almonds you sprayed on them
I was tempted to kiss your glowing lips which invites me
As the rain falls, I heard the silent whisper of your soul
Where those raven pays us visit on that silent day
I know it was real love that burns inside us
This trance makes me believe we speak and understands
The language of the soul which is love, dear lover
(c) Martin Ijir 2018
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