12 MILLION NONSENSE

Bending ending elding death-pending charismatic rodents,
Presenting and representing as “representaTHIEVES” of certain constituents
In a certain conference,
Is absolutely not what Nigerians want my friends,
What Nigerians want is their fair share of that “acriMONEYous” 12 Million Nonsense.

So Silence!
Ssshh Silence!
I crave your indulgence
Take me to his Excellency’s presence let me vent what I sense
It’s time to evaluate the past tense
The youths died in their tens
Corruption is given credence
Unemployment is the graduates’ license
Merely running away from poverty is now life’s essence
Suffer and die in silence
Or effortlessly send a certain eminence to a certain conference
And let’s continue the game of preference and pretense
Our breath is stifled by suspense
Our disposition is like the Ebola patient’s patience
Giggling complacence nibbles our resilience
This conference is the confluence of same rigid affluence
The very requiem mass of the chinkili available penitence

Silence!
Take me to his Excellency’s presence
I bear words from my bare mind as presents
Each sentence itches and reeks of vengeance
Terrorists are tugging the fence
Our securities are hugging the pence
Exported as foreign defense
At our own expense
These several boom boom kaboom fatalities are an evidence

Silence!
The only thing that is no longer common is common sense
Your eminence
You peer through your antiseptic concave lens
But you see nothing because your eyes are tensed
Draconian edicts make your view dense
Sold is your confidence
Bought is your conscience
Your lush lost lust is way spookier than Solomon’s concupiscence
Each of your scullion minion opinion is worth a million nonsense
Your condition draws tears like the Onions’ influence
That greediness has got consequences isn’t an obsolescence
That a certain temporal sleep became “permanence” isn’t a coincidence

Silence!
The only sound I wanna hear is the siren’s
Please take me to his Excellency’s presence
Let me just vent what I sense
And when my tongue is torn or done with vengeance,
Don’t forget to hand GRRRACIANO and this audience
Our own 12 Million Nonsense!!!

Written & Performed by : Graciano Enwerem, (Winner of WarofWords3 Slam poetry competition) in June 2014

 ....

GRRRACIANO’s Spoken Word Piece performed at War Of Words 3 final in June 2014.

InvestMESS

They rode on Glitches,

Stole in Batches,

The many fishes

Of the River of Milk and M(h)onies.

A certain Dr. Luck

Invested few token pennies,

A "tintini" one billion of our national currency

On mere kitchen utensils

What an InvestMESS!

Over 200 Beauties

Sent as Tourists to Wizards and Witches

In Northern Borno Bushes

A journey of horrible near-misses!

They spoke and fickled,

Helmets in cycles,

Then Hell-scent for noses,

Hunger-oats as pastries,

The returns for sweat-scented skins,

Who stick thumbs on thick ink without rethink.

Oh Where is Mrs. Nemesis,

Or Mr. Posterity from the genesis?

Or Madam Justice; all seem pierced to pieces

As PoliTRICKcians and LegisLOOTERS squander currencies

Injecting the emotions of nationals with hurting "acriMOANINGS"

But... all seem stories for the gods and goddesses,

As profiting Prophets and Prophetesses pointedly prophetizes

A shoeless and clueless Preacher of 'stenched' air

The consensus Emeritus Sailor for this tower of Milk and M(h)onies.

Even as scores of pupils await Death visits,

With their peers blown to pieces,

The returns on hard-earned pennies

Presented to perfectly poverty-painted parents

What an InvestMESS!

Hmm..

Let Nigerians without penitence, but with dumb thumbs for second chances,

Dance the tune of loud silences,

Played on gnashing teeth and nail biting strings,

With plenty of hopeful hopelessness,

Welcome waiting, RAGING ‘free doom’ in sevens and sixes!

Or

Halt these SINators with sin-nature as signatures,

Tease those hoodlums to grace their fund bearers with bomb letters.

The teeming masses bask in fun era at their funeral masses.

The returns for our investments, NOT this InvestMESS…

The land again flow with milk and honey,

Breathe the breath of fresh air, NOT this STENCHED air;

As we welcome back our stolen fishes of the River of Milk and M(h)onies.

Written by: Bankole Kolawole (BankHALL)

Edited by: Bamgbade Bams Adetoyese

PS: This is a Spoken Word Piece performed at WarOfWords4 Slam Poetry Competition (November, 2014), in Lagos, Nigeria.