POEMS

  • A Cold Morning in Berlin

    Soon it is autunm
    Time to shed leaves
    And have the last blast of sunshine
    But time to look back to a year almost done
    Picking thoughts and arranging them into wants
    If only the future whisper secrets to the past
    Should we not have come prepared?
    At least I would have more than one box
    By which I arrange all these versions
    Of myself and your impressions of me.  

    Berlin, October 2014

  • Soundlessness

    I want to be
    In many ways where I have never been
    I want to be 
    In many ways here but again there
    I want to be you and then me
    I want to be that being that never ceases to be
    I want to be where I can be
    when the bell rings
    blinds drop
    Eyes open
    Silence beyond a pin drop.

    New York 11th December 2013. 

  • Burning the Candle at Both Ends

    Let the morning roar into laughter
    
Let the day be filled with boisterous chatter

    Let tomorrow be ridden by plans
    
Stretching across plains unforeseen

    Let yesterday be held on to as if in a pouch
    
Let today be the clue 
of why we would meet again.

    Let the morning roar into laughter
    Let the day be filled with boisterous chatter
    Let tomorrow be ridden by plans
    Stretching across plains unforeseen
    Let yesterday be held on to as if in a pouch 

    It might as well be for the script
    Or like an image
    We have been framed. 

    Lagos, November 2013

  • Pray for Eyes to See

    At the city Centre
    Shrills of sirens followed screeches of tires
    There goes the ash from once a burning flame
    It is no Wednesday
    However it all began one faithful day

    Silence
    Shrills of sirens and screeches of tires
    Marching feet, marching on
    Pausing only for a deep peep
    And clearing of throat
    One day brother, says the other
    Take heart sister, it is well

    Now I know why the sun never ceases to shine
    It cares not a kobo whose scalp it scourges
    Standing on the tip of the scale
    It could be that the cold you feel is true
    And you wonder why everyone else is warm.

    In the morning pray perhaps for a hard hat
    And while at it
    Pray for eyes to see
    And ears to hear

    © Emeka Okereke
    Amsterdam, October 2013

  • Free to Roam the Earth

    It was long time ago
    The taste has left my tongue
    Memories scattered across oceans
    When I speak, I sound funny to my ears
    When I laugh, it is but a shrill of sorrow

    I was born here not of choice
    I opened my eyes and saw that I am 
    And the mirror just didnt help
    I toiled and ploughed 
    Until I am a stranger to my bones

    I looked up the sky, but no answers fell off it
    So I dug the ground
    And found that what was missing had been buried
    Rotting away amidst bones and flesh
    It was a long time ago

    So here I am
    with my beautiful discovery
    I was born here not of choice
    But now I have a choice
    And I feel invincible
    My first instinct is to rob a bank
    Or jump off the cliff to test death
    But, it's just enough to know there's another me
    Far from all of this
    yet free to roam the earth.

    Accra, June 2013
    © Emeka Okereke