The dancing flood

When it rains very hard,
making loud crack crack sound
like broken beads falling on our roof,
Every movement cease on our street.

It is raining hard today,
Our street lies desolate
The only movement in sight,
is the flood dancing its way
to the gutter
That separates my street from yours.

The flood dancing its way,
In twist and turns,
into the gutter
that is already vomiting water.

Houses are squeezed here and there
No room for the flood to pass or rest.
Baba Ali’s unpolished building
sway left and right like a drunk,
His foundation was built on mere sand.
The Dancing flood...

(c)Jennifer Ehidiamen
culled from "Preserve my Saltiness"

Preserve my Saltiness
• Author: Jennifer Ehidiamen
• Paperback: 81 pages
• Publisher: Step Out Creatives Publications U.K; First Edition edition (20 Feb 2011)
• Language English
• ISBN-10: 1906963266
• ISBN-13: 978-1906963262


Preserve My Saltiness is a collection of poems, featuring various topics. You will enjoy reflecting on the threads of meaningful didactic and philosophical images, which help to enhance the encoded meanings. These poetic thoughts could only emanate from one who stayed close to grandma, picking eternal words of wisdom; I bet Jennifer did, as shown in these poems which are all her original pieces. Copies are available on www.amazon.co.uk and or your local bookstore in Lagos- Terra Kulture, Florence and Lambard, Naija-Sista Bookstop etc. (see list below)

Review
In this book I see that Jennifer has wrangled in the electrifying bull of creativity to possess her words in a way that will speak to others deeply. She speaks to you in these pages from a place of strength and the calm assuredness that this is exactly what she would like to say. I hope you listen. Because by recording her truth, she has recorded our truth. So, take a moment and learn of your soul as you read the poetry of hers. Jennifer, you speak truth in a way that seems as though you are a hundred years old and have lived the lives of many. Your truth is unforgivingly raw, uncut crystal - like all truth that is worth telling. Thank you for sharing your gift of poetry with the world. Because, as we know, the world needs it. My favorite poem is My Brothers Wrestle. --Jess Rimington, One World Youth Project

As a writer, I have carefully looked at these poems and believe that you will enjoy reading Preserve My Saltiness. You will enjoy reflecting on the threads of meaningful didactic and philosophical images, which help to enhance the encoded meanings. These poetic thoughts could only emanate from one who stayed close to grandma, picking eternal words of wisdom; I bet Jennifer did, as shown in these poems which are all her original pieces. --Isi Agboaye, Editor

To buy your copies, please visit:

Naija-Sistas Book-stop- Henry Nelson Consulting
26 Festival Road off Adetokunbo Ademola Street, Victoria Island
Lagos

Terra Kulture (Bookshop) Plot 1376 Tiamiyu Savage Street Victoria Island Lagos.

Florence & Lambard Publisher and Booksellers 202-204 Ikorodu road, Palm Grove, Lagos.

Caught staring into yesterday #NigeriaDecides

Dear Son,

I got the note that you sent to me
and those horrifying pictures too,
the memory of both I can’t still erase.
I cannot begin to tell you
how pained I was to see all those bodies lying
there lifeless and wasted.
Bodies without faces, faces without traces!
Was it war? The war caused by greed!

I could tell most victims were innocent
Poor innocent always fall victim in war.

To answer your question on war:
There was never any war yesterday
Oh! Do not get me wrong, friend.
We fought for each other,
Our war was never against our own brother.
There was greed, sure there was greed
but power was never imposed on the greedy.

When I look back at yesterday,
I see a lot of differences in today.
Isn’t today the easier and wiser?
But a great madness has befallen the land.
Men no longer grieve for their own sin.
Now to answer your question on sin:
All have sinned, that is true.
But the lack of fear of God
has hardened so many hearts.
Men trembled in reverence to God yesterday,
but today, high sounding philosophies
and the wisdom of this world
mix-up what is and ought to be.

I hear taboos have become legalized.
Pre-marital sex is now displayed like wares on market stall.
And the media, the whistle-blowers
provide a bewildering array of choices.

A preacher walked into this ward to pray
I couldn’t say amen until he left.
I was afraid he would charge me for responding to his prayer.
And you know your poor old man have got no money.
I hear preaching is now a lucrative business
for every Jim, Joe and James.
The pulpit is now a hot spot for showcasing
the acrobatic display of wolves in sheep clothing.
Does that answer your question on religion?

Be careful where you lay your head son.
Look at the direction of where the sun is rising
before you take a step, for the days are evil.

May God forgive those politicians in old political boots
Who are still using youths,
the posterity of the nation
for selfish political war against their rivals.
They shamelessly pant after the next election
instead grooming the next generation.
Ostracize yourself from their dissent,
and go on your knees when everyone else take up arms.
I do not mean the usual hypocritical SOS call made in a rush.
The prayer of the humble, God never neglects.

I feel rejuvenated writing you these lines,
and I am looking forward to seeing you again!
How old are you now? Twenty?
You remind me so much of my youth.
Except, yours is an age plagued by political and religious unrest,
fear of economic recession, negligence of societal values,
burden of broken relationships and dysfunctional homes.
How time changes yesterday!

But still, your drive and passion for change,
brings sunshine to my gloomy old-age.
In your voice,
I hear the joyful drum of what tomorrow holds,
daring me to hope beyond hope, despite the brokenness of today.

Regards,

Your great-grand-uncle.

(c) Jennifer Ehidiamen

Culled from “Preserve My Saltiness”

“In Preserve My Saltiness Jennifer addresses life’s everyday experiences to our world’s trends and shared challenges of the 21st century.  Every poem embodies piercing insight and breathless passion. Click here for more info about “Preserve My Saltiness”

Image via African American Odyssey

He restored my crown

He restored my crown:

He whispered my name
to fame.

Like a Rose
I blossomed
and laughed.
I begged,
bled
and saw red.

Sigh.
I pierced His side
again.
I am a sinner.
Blame me the call
I failed to heed.

I danced to strange rhythm,
he played lead act in my encrypted script.

I fell,
to rise.
Lust gave in to penitence.
I failed the test, thrice,
but mercy never let me fail
to return home.

Lust is lost.
But he’ll return
and find no room
in my cleansed robe.
No viper in my bosom.
My crown is restored unto honour.

Lushly virtuous,
and at peace, I am royalty.

(c) Jennifer Ehidiamen

This poem is in response to "I tore my Robe."

Image via Gamma