Wednesday, August 11, 2010

I miss you






I miss you

cannot get you on phone

that has made me alone



I need you

where are you?

without you, life's easy walk turns to hew!

Femi Morgan(2010)

A Ship at Half Mast



A Ship at Half Mast

Lying there is Lugard’s Yard
Set asail with pomp but now in the hands of pirates
Floating Disaster is what I am called by the trim sailors
Who party, part with cheap deals but avoid popularity
‘all the rest is sinking sand’

If pimples were patches
I have so many
So many spills of blood, brains and crude oil
So many colours and shades of whatever-happens
Without any sense of anchor.
‘all the wait is sinking sand’

The storms have always come
But with a calm sailor; knowing nothing to do
Helter -skelter are mere dance steps
On the fort and the basement
Like church dis-services,
I am a ship at half mast.

Jonah’s sleep is longer
For when the votes of belongings cast
They are rigged.
There is buying and selling in the temple
And knives are rampant.
There are no brooms to sweep, no swathe of keeps.

I am err of the father
I am disjointed in the sprung
I HOUSE the children of LUCIFER
‘we are legion for we are many’.

May day! May day!
Our strong people’s salute, expectedly.
We live not in glass house but in broken bottles.
Venting our angst on vendor’s stands
But mulling silence later
For I am a Ship at half mast
Big HOME for pickles, pricks and pick-pockets.

I am the pride of many ships; abandoned for reclamation
It is hard to be born again when the leeches stick tough at your old back.

So there is no need to holler
‘ Sir, There is a ship very far from us, it’s at half mast’
‘Must be the Floating Disaster waiting to be history’.

FEMI MORGAN
16 th April 2010

Free Vanity

As at when I wrote this poem on Facebook, the response was great. One of the comments that caught my fancy the most is Michael Izuchukwu Offiah's. It was like a short review of the work.
' I can discern at least three distinct uses of 'free' in "Free Vanity": conditions forced upon us about which we have no choice; the abandon with which a few acquire illegal luxury; and the dishonesty behind some promises of free this or tha...t in the country. Many are wont to give the poem a political interpretation. But i think the poem transcends mere realism. It asks or, rather, answers metaphysical questions. "Vanity upon vanity, all is vanity," says the wiseman. If everything has no intrinsic value, then, even freedom itself is worthless: nothing is free; the only free thing is vanity.How free, really, are we, if at all? From this perspective, the poem takes on deeper, more explorable and less cumbersome dimensions. Stanza eight is a piece of beauty. Keep writing, brother.'



FREE VANITY
Street poetry
Free vote; no free chance to revolt
Free Rigging, Free moping
FREE THIS, FREE THAT
Free Legislature; free laws no sure
Nothing is free

Free Press; freest chance to impress;free stress
Free Government, free free money in some tents
FREE THIS, FREE THAT

Free Vanity

Free speech;Free guns at reach
Free oil; free toil
Nothing is free

Free Jega*, Free me ginger!*
Free baba*, free wahala!*
Free shitters, free but forced packers

Free Vanity

FREE THIS, FREE THAT
IT CAN NEVER BE AS FREE AS TRIDAF*
Free inflation, free unemployment, free implication.

Free votes for free goats
Free gloat, free notes.

Free nation, Freely shared hunger invasion

Free exercise books and text books
Nothing is free and true in the budget books

FREE THIS, FREE THAT
NOTHING IS FREE, EXCEPT FREE VANITY

Free vanity.

13-7-2010



Tridaf: a hostel in Ibadan Nigeria which housed female students. It was expensively paid for by parents who sent their children to non-boarding schools.

Jega: Althahiru Jega is the new Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) chairman

Ginger: Weed; Marijuana-the name given to it by street artist, Terry G.

Baba: means father and other related meanings

Wahala: means trouble in Hausa language

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

திஸ் Place




This Place

This place,
Where a lady searches for a job,
Gets a b. job.
This place,
Of degrading grades,
And graduating grouse.

I will never speak evil of my country
I will never point fingers.

This place of flying filth
This place of promise like a leaking pail.
There is rhythm in the weeping bunch
Wrapped in 50 years of laughing stock.
This fine place
Indeed, this fine place.

This Place

This place,
Where a lady searches for a job,
Gets a b. job.
This place,
Of degrading grades,
And graduating grouse.

I will never speak evil of my country
I will never point fingers.

This place of flying filth
This place of promise like a leaking pail.
There is rhythm in the weeping bunch
Wrapped in 50 years of laughing stock.
This fine place
Indeed, this fine place.

இன் Ernest



POEM TITLE: In Ernest
I may follow the way of Hemingway one of these days
some things are hemming
that may make me sell my rights away like Fleming
I may follow the way of Hemingway one of these days.
laughter is like grains grinding
all that makes me lose my apetite in the dinning.
Femi Morgan (2010)
femimorgan@gmail.com