Thursday, October 9, 2008

Exerpts from Blessed Mudiaga Adjekpagbon's soon to be published book titled "Murdered in Buckingham Palace."

Showering down and showering down
Splitting splatter on the town
When the sky is crashing down
Splitting splatter on the town
It wets both the king and the clown
Splitting splatter on the town
It knows no noble and the crown
Splitting splatter on the town
It does not care who is white or brown
Splitting splatter on the town
It makes everybody its own fan
Splitting splatter on the town
So shall be the judgement of God
Splitting splatter on the town
When it shall come with its rod
Splitting splatter on the town…

(Written 16 November 2006 and published by
The Guardian Newspaper on December 2nd, 2006)

The hated light
For your sake I will pull the sky down
Until justice comes to town
To paint walls of my mind with laughter
That pebbles’ of joy in me may flutter.

(Written 16 November 2006 and published by The Guardian Newspaper on December 2nd, 2006)

A frightening shadow
I hear, you hear, we hear
There are no sacred cows,
Yet the sacred cow
Prowls like cat and roams
Freely from Paris to Rome
Frightening “Anti-corruption Bill”
By a menacing shadow.

What are the effects
Of whips on a shadow?
You want to kill a shadow,
You must bury its object then the shadow may not fly.

Why art thou afraid,
Of our evil genius shadow,
Oh “Anti-corruption B”?
Devour the object now
And swallow the shadow
So the Zillion
That drown might be visible,
As thou said on Rock Zion
Thou art an iron
The dreadless lion.

(Published by Daily Champion Newspaper on 28th August 2000, and the defunct National Concord on 4th October 2000)

Chameleons done
Oh like their predecessors
They come to keep strangling us
With encyclopedia of prices hikes

Oh God! What have we done
Or where have we gone
Wrong that makes us suffer
So strong and long
Without bread and butter
In this Hell thronged
By” “Saintful” fuel-price-plotters?

For verily, verily we cry
Oh God we (poor masses) cry,
If Jesus could truly shy
To drink and dry
The vinegar on Cross of Calvary,
Save us from omni-price hikes
By callous kaleidoscope chameleons.
(Published by The Punch Newspapers on March 24th, 2001)

Your principles though tough,
Could cleanse the world
Of evils of the rough
Living of immoral people,
But must you spit blood
Because of an atom
Of alcohol tasted from your kettle?
You have to set examples
By amputating first, your rich “Generals”
Who stole the nation’s cakes,
Only then we shall know
You are truly Sharia
Impartial to the rich-thieves
In your area
Maybe then Nigeria
Could accept you in all areas.

(Published by the defunct National Concord Newspaper on July 31st, 2000)

Mungo Park disciples
The fingers of our ancestors
Were in pots healing us
With aromatic flavours
Of nature in our Aso Rock huts
Though looking ramshackle
But never falls like a fowl on one leg;
Then the claimers came to play pranks
On us with paternoster of holiness
Flowing like River Niger
From the hearts of their white skins
To raid, rape, scramble and scatter
Our virgin wealth so pure to them
More than the bodies bearing them.

Cancer went asleep
Fever went asleep
All sickness were sick and sleep
By the fingers of our ancestors
In clays we drank from
Until paternoster prowlers with envy
As voracious as the sea
Drove all to dustbins,
Preaching they are unclean
And cannot cure
And so they lure and lure and lure
Us to bury our ancestral roots,
We foolishly follow, follow them.

Oh Africans! The ancestors are crying!
Now is their clarion call to prove your worth
Oh Africa! And seize number one slot
In relay of conglomeration of continents
Battling to punch and prison AIDS,
Employ the ancestors’ fingers
Which did call bullets from bodies,
Call AIDS now to dance to your command.

Follow not the ranting of “ranters”
Claiming to be doctors-know-all,
Make the wiseacres fame fall
By commanding diseases to flee
Into seas and perish like demons
Did obey Mary’s son,
For the ancestors are annoyed
Knocking on your hearts door
As you dance puppetry like puppets
To green snakes whose m├ętier
Is to drain your living matter
Only to give you again as aid to Africans
Like Mungo Park did the Niger.

Oh Africa!
The Mungo Parks give nothing
New to you, all you
Receive are your recycled resources;
Oh Africa! Beware of the Mungo Parks!

(Published by the defunct The Post Express Newspaper on 18th March 2001)

Our image boosters
(Dedicated to late Chief M.C.K. Ajuluchukwu)
As COJA has come and gone, an environment caressed clean
Married with minds serenely weaned
Germinates stainless thoughts that brings
Enormous thrilling things…
Are you proud we are clean?
Now let’s watch our film;
Visitors to our environs will envy and beam
At Lagos bins; so-called spick and span excellent land,
Niger-Delta, cladding oil spillages designers’ gown,
Kano, Kaduna plus nationwide gorgeous beggars’ band
Cuddling Abuja to drum our image up and down
While Eastern potholes gives vehicles “Atilogwu” dances in every town...
Can sun smile and claim to be queen in the sky
If not beautiful, stainless and her clothes dry?

(Atilogwu: A traditional dance of somersaulting and acrobatic dancers by the Igbo people in the Eastern part of Nigeria).
(Written by me (author) 25/09/2003, and read live by Mr. Yinka Craig on 13/10/2003, on the NTA 2 Channel 5 “AM Express Programme” crew organized “a hundred words poetry competition”).

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