Obododimma Oha



 so the deadlines want me dead



 Work with, work for, work at, work on

A life ticks away, ticks a way

Through fire and water

Through thick and thin


 I have chewed water, knowing

It sports tough muscles


 One-legged cricket must start a trip early

Before the ants

Rule the restless tracks

And the whistling evening wants it dead


 Work for, you are worked on

Through the gauntlets of power,

Waiting for the worst run





Duties for the desperate evenings

Of goats and unwilling tethers


 Dead fodders awaiting removal

Mornings, before ritual :

The humble giving and the proud taking


 Deadlines of texts

Of meetings before meetings

Meetings for meetings

Motions in emotion for deadlines and dead men



 Out of the Depths


 In the silence of the ekwuru

Burns an eternal fire

Out of the sacred depths

Agwu rises, trembling with songs


 Time to time the time


 Ekwe calling, opi calling:





 There, the floating shadows

Have reached the threshold

Fierce and forceful like death


 The moment comes, the spirit walks tall

Into the hall of mirrors

To lift the Ofo



  Contents l Previous l Next

Sentinel Poetry (Online) #44  


ISSN 1479-425X Editor: Amatoritsero Ede                                                            


Front Page l Sentinel Home l Submissions & Past Issues

View My Stats