EMEKA OKEREKE

Never undermine the power of your spirit
Use it to permeate these walls
And see through its faults
Indeed beyond there is a vault
which contains treasures hidden from us
For centuries and more

You are the antenna charged with signals
Embodied by the many signs and wonders
in which we are encapsulated
by which we are capacitated

You are the missing link
In this chain of omnifarous existence
Translucent!
We glow in light, we don’t burn
We are ramifications of the friction within
every fraction of encounter

Never undermine the power of your spirit
To lead the way when the end is dead
Trust in the consistency you share with nature
In your pact with life
And your heart shall not betray your head

We are here
For centuries and more
Torch in one hand, the scripture in the other
Throwing beams in the dark
Lest anyone tell you he’s got it all
Our rations are in portions
only to be whole in that connection
for which you are the missing link.

 
© Emeka Okereke
Amsterdam, Aug. 2011

I am walking
Eyes behind my shoulders
I walk, briskly

Picking fine pebbles to decorate my desires
I walk, speedily

Shadows stretch forth tall and threatening before me
As the light shines from behind me
...smiley on my face

I walk, certainly

It seems I have gone far
But the signpost never change

I walk, continuously

I am wearing out my bones
The only change there is
Memories fool me into thinking I had it all
Joy is perishable and can only be served fresh

I have been walking round the clock
I have come a long way
But “son” the voice said
“You will never walk away”

© Emeka Okereke. The Hague 2011.

I need a brand new soul
There is a hollow in this one
Corroded
Piece of land struck by erosion
All contents washed to the Land of Faraway
The more there is to build,
The more there is to destroy

I need a brand new soul
There is a hollow in this one
Made by the stuffing I seek to mend it
Like Dorian I have a picture locked in the basement
and a mask I carry at all times

My loss is your gain
with my pain you will be entertained.
Who will buy this soul
with a hollow
for a shoestring
You will have your puppet.

© Emeka Okereke. Amsterdam, 26th June 2011

Time is not a thing
Play ball with it
Roll it in your hands
Put it in between your legs
Eat it as cake and dismiss it as a mistake - yet
Time is not a thing

Flick it on and off
Lock it in a vault
Organise it to organise you
Buy it, sell it
kill it - yet
Time is not a thing

Time is not on wheels – we are
In every wink there is a wrinkle
Every pulse is a countdown
Past is Now

Time is not a thing
It is a place...
where one can never be twice.

© Emeka Okereke, Amsterdam 2011

Who are these faces
Where are these places
Which breeds torture endless
From the vulcaniser in Lagos to the receptionist in Amsterdam
None can I attribute such

Envy is popular - but
Never beyond the sentiments of a sore loser
Jealousy I know - but
With a new boyfriend comes a new chapter
Depression can be fatal
Only when it leaves one dangling from the ropes
Greed is enticing
But gives only McDonald’s in return

Who are these faces
Where are these places
Which breeds torture endless
Since Darfur and even before

Who are these faces
who never smile at me
Dance with me in a bar
Tan with me at the beach
Dine with me from same dish
Kiss me on both sides of the cheek

Could it be them?
Are they wolves by night and NATO by day?

Could it be him over there?
Who a minute then was preaching heaven
In the name of 9/11

Could it be you and I
Holding hands
And popcorn
And Coca-cola
Watching all of this...
In 3D

Osama is dead and gone to his grave
Hm, ha,
Gone to his grave

Before  then he was hiding ten years in a Den
Hm, ha,
Ten years in a den

Then came Obama and dug him all up
Hm, ha,
Dug him all up

Washed him clean and dumped him in the sea
Hm, ha,
Dumped him in the sea

Now came the waves and whisked him away
Hm, ha,
Whisked him away

So far away no eyes can see
Hm, ha,
No eyes can see

The wars are over screams out the world
Hm, ha,
Screams out the world

When all the guns go then more rum will come
Hm, ha,
More rum will come.

© Emeka Okereke.  Abuja, May 2011

There is a drainage
Long like endless
Deep like bottomless
In line, In speed
Same direction
Same destination

There is a drainage
black as pitch
In which all wealth flows
the less the more
Same direction
Same destination

There is a drainage
A horrifying drainage
In which all brain drain
same direction
Same destination

Pastures void of greens
but of crude in gold vessels and diamond finishing
Where hopes suffocate
Sweet dreams cut short
New brains manufactured

There is a drainage
In which there is music
With a whole bunch of choristers
Choirmasters, bandleaders, cheerleaders...choreographers...
Dancing to the intoxicating blues of William Lynch

© Emeka Okereke, The Hague, April 2011

Themba is dead
He lies in a coffin of wood
Garment of cotton
Stockings of wool
stiff as stone

Themba is dead
Taking his grief to grave
Hoping never again to be black

Themba is dead
Fifteen years ago
when he crossed the sea alive
Hopes decorated with fantasies of a white life
He lived in the shadows of others
No chance in the light
He struggled in the dark

Themba is a fool
Wise only yesterday
Today he is in a coffin of wood
Garment of cotton
Stockings of wool
stiff as stone

The municipality is taking samples
consulting the law
Making phone calls
checking cost
Deciding which land owns Themba

© Emeka Okereke. The Hague, March 2011.

Passion
A reason for action
Without which you are of no function
Fist clenched
Teeth grinding against each other
All for Passion

Love
You love me
You hate that I love not just you
Fist clenched
Teeth grinding against each other
All for love

Joy
Tears of joy for your success
You tear my joy
With your success
Fist Clenched
Teeth grinding against each other
All for Joy

Happiness
Happy as a lad
You have waited all your life for this moment
A moment built on my nightmares
Fist clenched
Teeth grinding against each other
All for Happiness

Passion, Love, Joy, Happiness
There is a thin line
You and I are at a cross-point
Dangling from a thin line

© Emeka Okereke.  Berlin, 22/03/2011

Amsterdam, 30th Jan. 2011.

Calm as sea

All seems

Even with the cold

It feels like on gold I stand

Below sea level a globe sits

As the ocean fights to regain its lands

Bridges built over artificial ponds

Even Amstel

Void of nature’s resources yet boast of a colonial war chest

Sweat from faraway lands

The Prince was in Africa

Now he is Santa Claus

And Christmas comes with a deadline

We are here again

Yes, here again

To haunt for Gold

Even in the Cold

But I am certain they would rather give us a coin

© Emeka Okereke, Jan 2011.

A day like this always calls for the utmost reflection

A day to be glad, but also a day to ask: why am I glad?

30 years ago, at dusk, I was born

It was the beginning of a journey no one could tell the outcome

For long others lead, I followed

I fumbled, tumbled, fell and failed

But somehow it never spelt the end for me or of me

“From grass to grace” some might want to say

Instead I prefer to think there is no grace without those who showed me the way through the grass.

They say “age ain’t nothing but numbers”

But it is the perfect measure of time,

Time to sow, time to reap, but not time to waste.

I have spent nearly 262, 968 hours since the day of my arrival on earth

It is a generous gift, and I feel blessed

I also feel strong

Many people have died for what they believe, but I am yet to live for it

I look up to the heavens today and ask the Almighty to continue to grant me more hours

And more wisdom to live them in Great deeds.

© Emeka Okereke, 26th July 2010.

Mind
Feed the mind
Nourish it
But do not worship it
It's a masterpiece, but could easily become your master

A gift never like any other
Very dirty with imaginations void of borders
One part of it dreams, while the other day-dreams
both lie in wake for each other
Even in your sleep

Never let it sleep nor stop
Movement is to the mind as it is to the wind
It could be fresh air or hurricane
Whichever, there is a force!
Armed with a creative will
To make the invisible Invincible

Follow the train of your thoughts
As long as you are in it
Endeavour to be the captain on the wheels

Mind your own Mind

© Emeka Okereke,
Ethiopian Airlines, 11th December 2010

Be careful what you do
You might end up a fool
A tool of mehem
We live in a world where there is no absence of sorrow
No time to borrow
But in love we must follow
If we must live through tomorrow

Kill the greed in you
That true wealth may ressurect from that death
Make hay while the sun shines
For soon it will be night
There is no day like the other

Life is a journey
The longer it seems, the shorter it gets
Every minute is a million possibilities compressed into moments
Serve you body but do not starve your soul
Fill your heart with desires, but remember it consumes like fire

you will be a better slave if it was out of choice
Flow
Fly
Mingle
Be
Be You
Do not wish

Do not wish your life away

© Emeka Okereke, Lagos 20/01/11

It is raining
I can see droplets on my window panes
As they form
Like a Foetus
Many of them

 At first slowly, they grope for their way
Like toddlers
Struggling and clashing with each other
Like war

 Their pace quicken as they become distinct
Like adults
Their pace quicken even more
Every drop on its own path
On a journey downwards
At the mercy of Gravity

 Some are fast
Some are faster
Some are slow

 My eyes follow
As they leave countless traces on the smooth transparent surface of the window panes
Like tears

 I watch as they disappear
Merging with a mass of other droplets
Where they continue their journey beyond my eyes

Like death.

© Emeka Okereke, The Hague 26th Feb., 2011.

 Dedicated to Goddy Leye, the Camerounian artist who died on the 19th of February 2011.