Graffiti Wall

I
cry
in the
rain

memories of you
rise in the rainbow

painting smiles
in the sun…

by Senator Ihenyen

HERE-WARD by Ajayi Olubunmi Kolade

I listened as I flute in Other Tongue
(My sweat in Other Tongue)
And cared about ears of other Minds
And minds of other Ears
And mutes my Muse!
Henceforth,
I shall glide Muse-ward
And dare not mute
Here-ward,
The recklessness
From my flute,
You learn to leave
My lines to my class,
I must live in the word
That lives in me!

Police (my comment): Here-Ward is a short poem which paints a picture of a poet (flute) who has rediscovered his original voice in the muse. Having muted the muse in the past by playing his flute (poetry) pleasantly to minds and ears (people) but failing to communicate with his own people, his own world that lives in him. Here-ward, the poet does not mind sounding reckless to those foreign to his creative language.

I enjoyed the poem, more because of how the poet has, with good choice of words, created the meaning of the poem. Every word in this poem matters, and that’s what makes a great poet.

In terms of the effective use of the elements of poetry (imagery, sound and form), I think the poet could have done a better job to appeal to his readers more imaginatively.

Since the “flute” is central in this poem, I would have loved to hear it, rather than been told. Two good use of onomatopoeia (words that suggest meaning with sounds). Read Gabriel Okara’s Piano and Drums to appreciate the point here.

Apart from that, although the form of the poem is good, I think for a more meaningful structure, the poem could be broken into two stanzas. The second stanza should start from the word, “Henceforth”. A single stanza does not seem to suggest any break in the flow of the flute.

On the whole, I think Kolade did a great job with this graffiti! Let it remain on my wall, for not being bad poetry!

THE LOST MINDS by Ajayi Olubunmi Kolade

I queued,though behind,
Abnegation made.
‘Take me serious’ I warned,
‘I am here to be there, and so are we all.’
Her mien withered from mystification.
Was my mind not hers?
Air. Sward, sultry season. Sylvan sheltered.
Affray! Incredulity. It was my first franchise.
The air grew genetic, is the Fruit fly’s this fast?

They purloined Our votes–Our voices
The upshot lacks my pulse–Our pulses
Our heart lost, the pulse has stopped.
‘Lincoln, you said “….by the people…”
I see “by some people” that lacks Our pulses,
But pursue Our purse’
They purloined Our votes,
Our voices were not seen; hence we’ve not been heard.
A leader’s mind is mites from the people’s.
These are not of Our mites,
Not Our leaders. They lead us though–
Our land wanes!

(c. 2008)

Police (my comment): On my records, you, Ajayi Kolade had a case to answer recently, although you cleared your good name. Now, you have scribbled graffiti on my wall again!

A poem whose thematic occupation is centred on the ugliness of the society is usually predominated with sarcasms (bitter ironies) to drive the satiric message. “The Lost Minds” falls into such category, painting pictures of how our votes are stolen, including our purses (treasury).

The use of alliteration (Fruit fly’s this fast?
, Our votes,
Our voices, Sward, sultry season. Sylvan sheltered etc. ) and assonance (pursue Our purse)have effectively helped to give a poetic resonance to the dialogue in the poem. And the use of pun creates an air of electoral deception, corruption and dishonesty on the part of the leaders, but not unknown to the voters and the led as seen in the lines (my pulse–Our pulses
Our heart lost, the pulse has stopped).

In comparison, the dialogue reminds me of Wole Soyinka’s “Telephone Conversation”, particularly in the choice of words (witty, short and poignant – Her mien withered from mystification.
Was my mind not hers?
Air. Sward, sultry season. Sylvan sheltered.
).

It is a successful poem. The kind I would like to describe as a-cup-of-coffee-in-the-morning piece of poetry. The police is your friend!