Yakubu Mohammed Poems

And my mother stood akimbo
Gazing at the blue river Ole'
With a balanced log of wood
On her locally plaited head
...

Irony?
Sarcasm!
What thy ugly face spread
To bestride optimistic culture
...

The gigantic exploration of my ripped soil
Shone like evening sunshine – the natural dusk
With faces blossoming high onto the sky
Leaving Homos in utter atmospheric hope.
...

My eyes yearn for an infatuated cameleon of discord
A hare of disfavour and
A surviving tortoise devoid of its carapace
As my friend who exposes me like
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Rain, O Rain;
When will you call,
When will you bring forth your comfort,
Your rhythmic music that soothes
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Methink the firewood of this World...ay.
Alas! How long do we await Lefty? Or
Is Godot the soothing marrow?
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Amidst sweat we toil;
But we cannot reach our cakes,
We cannot reach our rulers
They are catapulted away
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Methink, ay methink sincere
Hearts form gardens,
Geniune thoughts the roots,
Honest words the blossoms
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The fire burns; persistently,
Moons after moons
Faraway into the jungle smiles the Treasure.
Mirage? Ha, ha, ha, I laugh.
...