Beauty is but a flower which wrinkles will devour

Like riches in the hands of a soul-less beast

Evil permeates, for goodness, we fail to savour

And man plunges into a degenerated abyss

I am just a poor poet without a political name

Words are my weapons so I unleash them every second

On our thieving politicians who see leadership as a game

And rule abysmally without posterity to reckon

Like baboons unaware of lampoons

Squandering collective wealth on private lagoons

While we’re left in the dark for Boko’s booms

I’ve seen macabre murders on Racecourse

And screams of sex orgies calling, ‘Jesus!’

Hearts no longer smile

The eyes are vile

Minds filled with bile

Brothers hold knives against brothers

Sisters kill over lovers

Fathers turn reckless erections onto daughters

The world is now a conglomeration of gutters

As I rave and rant like a petulant child

These are but wrinkles on my ailing heart


This land is a beautiful zone!

A rare display of natural artistry

Where potholes have potholes of their own

And the under-bridges give shelter to the homeless for free

O, this land is a beautiful zone!

The beauty traverses the horizon like the rising sun

As sons and daughters, under the raging heat, burn

Their dreams and aspirations, gone

To the West, they run

The green-white flag, they’ve torn

And hope to never return

This land is a beautiful zone!

Gory images of grievous gloom

Kids now grizzled in their bloom

Boko’s booms now spell doom

As helplessly, we poets fume


A word now synonymous with bloodbath


Gloating grotesque beasts treading on horrid path


O, they’re blinded to nature’s impending wrath

As I rave and rant like a petulant child

These are but wrinkles on my ailing heart


Pellets of anomalies fly the skies of Nigeria

Wrapped in costumes of corruption hounding us

Subtle, filling its masters with euphoria

The land is blessed; they’re its curse

I’ve seen girls of twelve on roadsides selling

Yes, selling their bodies, their tiny boobs, not food

And shameless men whose groins are yelling

Will pay with their souls to see them nude

I’ve seen the wash-and-set in Alfa beach

For 200 box, she’ll do her niche

A 360 on you without a hitch

The country has made her a bitch

O, I’ve seen love lose its jazz

Like a guitar that’s lost its bass

It’s now considered razz

By the delusory mass

The nation is now topsy-turvy

The ignorant is lord over the rest

Virtues are too heavy to carry

So in our heads, vices have their nests

The people are suffering

Our decadence is sobering

Insensitivities howling

As the future is hovering

As I rave and rant like a petulant child

These are but wrinkles on my ailing heart.



Bob Ekat

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