Monday, 25 September 2017

Dreams, Dreamers and Vanity: Ohikhuare Isuku

D
reamers are achievers: they are the famous artists, the physicians, great engineers, influential writers and scientists, who above all things continue to transform the world on daily basis. They are the ones people want to emulate; those we so much long to live their lives. But sadly, dreamers’ lives echo with hollowness – a constant restlessness governs them from the inside: a bugging restlessness to achieve more; to cap their achievements which very often need capping; to prevent falling off the radar.

Dreams have a bad habit of becoming less important once a dreamer has achieved them. Thus, the dreamer – having a desire to surmount higher dreams – delves into a realm where he seldom finds rescue, in order to achieve these dreams which sooner become useless in his sight. For instance, a man may dream of owning an expensive car, but as soon as he buys this car of his dream, it becomes useless in his sight after a period of time, and he dares to acquire a more expensive car which will also become valueless in his sight as soon as he acquires it.

With these continuous likes for fancier dreams and dislikes for them once the dreamers achieve them, combined with this intoxicating quest to achieve higher and more tasking dreams, the dreamer – no doubt – rises to an astronomical height in his dream pathway. But it must be noted that while those below him idolize and admire his stellar achievements, he loathes what he has become, because his achievements have become meaningless in his sight.

So while we aspire to live the lives of the dreamers, we must be forewarned that it’s suicidal in a skeletal way. Dreamers have a crazy insatiability; they are workaholics, because they must work with either their physical strength or mental capability or both to achieve their set goals; their dazzling facades mask these accumulated layers of fear which make them heavy with guilt of not achieving enough and a consequential fall from the stellar height they presently stand.

Because of this constant desire to achieve a fit; because of this internal quest which drives them like demons, coupled with the heartbreaks which come with failures to achieve some certain dreams, dreamers are generally unhappy; they are generally unfulfilled. Sometimes, this curse cast upon them to dream and achieve, drives them to commit suicide or become demented with drugs or become depressed. When people who only view their beautiful outsides see them this way, they ask themselves: “Why did they commit suicide when they have achieved everything?”






Ohikhuare Isuku,
Ibadan, Nigeria.
Twitter: @ohikhuare_isuku
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Saturday, 26 August 2017

Life

If you desire true happiness,
Then you must quit life,
For life offers little of this treasure,
Nor dine with you with fairness.

If you desire perfectness,
Then turn not your gaze
From the embrace of demise:
He offers equality.
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Sunday, 6 August 2017

it is not death i am scared of: poem by ohikhuare isuku

There are still virgin lands
scattered around the earth;
there are still verdant hills,
exquisite plains and valleys
where my body can find rest
if death in his kindness
decides to rescue me
from life's painful grip

There are still good
women of my climes
to sing the dirge of my exit
to the travelling wind,
to the sun drowning in the sea

There are strong kinsmen
who will make my grave deep
and offer the best design
to the rim of my casket

Hence, it is not death
I am scared of,
rather it is life:
this life who has built his castle
upon the sand of injustice
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Wednesday, 17 May 2017

Disappointment: Poem by Sheerethia Helb








photo credit: google.com.


Forgive me if I move too fast,

I’m not used to walking slow,
I’m used to men coming to go.

Great is moment though it doesn’t last,
Soon it’s another regret of the past.

Maybe in you I’ll make dreams reality,
And no longer be she who friends pity,

But wait, what was your name again?,
So sorry, I got lost in my words of gain.

If you know you’re going to let me down,

Don’t waste my time, just end this now.
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Monday, 17 April 2017

My Love, Africa: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku


Africa, throughout this night, I'll be with you;
We will run around the terrace
With love-clad eyes, debilitated hands,
Feet - weak like the shrubs frustrated
By arid harmattan winds.

We'll fall on each other gently
Like soft linen on a well-dressed bed;
Our lips touching, chatting in love language.

Africa, throughout this night, we'll blaze our fear-shivered union
With the flame of affection;
We'll trade our fear in the nightly darkness
And allow the wind to take it away.   


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Climax of a Patriot: Poem by Chidinma Ahika


Its so cold in here,
Nothing seems to matter,
Osundare's Not-My-Business
Sounds to me.

Every tenets so precious
Are webbed by the nets of the moment.
Every acts come to go their ways,
Each issues shoved above the brows.

The truth so bitter than
It ever tasted,
Vanities dribble my tiring thoughts,
Nothing seems to matter;
Fallen and broken,

The climax of a patriot.
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Longevity: Poem by Bright Afeikhe

LONGEVITY

Blessed with ages
The days of trees            
Long time keeper
Honey bees hiver

Sharp and distant through many moons
Sufficience through loyal gradient roots
Suck and absorb two elements, double tapping
Collect from many years that you may live long

Atavistic, landmark, non succumbing
To the wind, to the scorching sun circle
Erosionary waters, have left markings
Yet you nobly persist, over scores of
Longevity, and length of days

Work of your hands, many have eaten
Seeds of your plants, travelled abroad
Formed colonies of troops, just like you

Suddenly your strength fails, by razor
Like Samson, your torso goes down
But, here your progeny does not end
Because a stump stands

Left a stubborn you
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