For Strength Poem by Victor Okey Nwatu

Hours gone by, iris still at full bore
And for most nights, have been at bean size 72/64
Records broken, prizes delivered,
Whole body system, not looking bad

42 hours gone by, without sleep;
Not even an alarm, not even a beep.
Yet another record smashed
And another prize, safely away, stashed.

The ‘sport' in question's not a game
Were it one, I don't know the name.
Though nameless, it has an impact.
It extended reach, being very intact.

It's about getting stuck at night
@ IPS, some nights, every night, all night.
It's about trying to get jacking right;
It's about being suckers for constant light

It's about abhorring mattresses and its bite,
Hating sleep - its pre- and post rites,
Divorcing the bus, the lodge, and the room.
And cashing in on the "jacking boom"

It's about hating grades of recumbent folds
Loving grades that are like derrick in bold.
It's about sunning teeth like Sunny
After Aunty Grace has flashed it like it's money.

It's about reading, writing and crashing at school
Which is everything but being cool.
It's about consuming the ‘risky burger'
Caring less of the ‘risk' in the burger

Am I sounding a bit impassive,
Am I really impassive?
Writing as though am person number three?
Can I swear that I am really free?
‘cos it's easy to chant the Feslajid,
As the lord of Choba, as agreed,
But the latest record is mine,
And the next on the line, might still be mine…

I love to keep mum about it
Choosing only to write this little skit.
But my partner is as mouthed as ever,
Rivaling, at this point, the yellow monster
Though his eyes are red at its full strength,
His mouth was firm in saying, I do it for strength.