Make it small

Make the world small,

Enough for two to hear their sounds,

No matter the distance and instance.

Squeeze the thoughts, make it a word,

When they are so plenty, make it a few.

Make the words small,

Enough that 3 will mean so much,

For miss: I miss you.

With love: I love you.

Speak them with the best colours of sound.

Make all paintings small,

Enough to show the future in one frame,

One painting for two, the world we wish,

The future we think, dreams of chocolate,

Hope it’s painted with all coulours of the wind.

Sing all songs as one,

Glow the hearts, and the face smiles,

Voices hidden and lyrics singing itself,

See all meanings also as one,

The reason the song is ours.

Make all hearts as one,

Then we’ll be all; all alone in the world,

We beat one sound, share one thought,

Kiss one sound and say one prayer,

Like a song ‘for my prettiest friend’

Make the world small,

Make the words small,

Make all paintings small,

Sing all songs as one,

Make all hearts as one,

So you’ll hear everything I want to say.

By Chinedu Hardy Nwadike

Nigeria: In theory….

In theory, we have sweet smelling flowers,

Growing in their greens, a fairly white cloud covers,

Our air smells sweet and we plant beans like grass,

And fetch honey from springs.

But in practical…

The green is gone and the sky is red,

Blood smells and the air is filled with vapour of tears,

We scoop tears like dust, and the sweet things have gone sour.

My Nigeria, the nation of theory,

Our solutions are already written,

Read and implemented in the HOUSE where saviors gather,

There is nothing to fear, for you are perfect.

But in reality…

They are sewn and stuffed in the pillow of fools,

Fighting and looting in the HOUSE,

A home the children of future will seek someday,

They fear not the ROCK beside,

Because no longer can it drop a stone,

Nor roar magma and clouds of flames.

I could have washed with crude oil,

The abundance confuse me with water,

I could have eaten about nine times,

But my religion calls it waste,

And I forgot to say it was a dream,

For in reality…

Crude is in theory, fuel at the dock,

Food became a tool,

For then we eat food to work with strength,

Now, it works on us when we eat.

A tool that brought us around the fence,

Peeping through the gates of the theoretical saviors.

I hear cheers ‘we are one in love’

I hear sound of unity, Nigerian music,

I see a dance that goes neither up nor down,

But with the rhythm of peace. Oh legs are so useful!

In practical oh Nigeria…

I see tears, mothers have used all they have,

I hear sounds, who is the next to die,

They are dead! They are not dancing!

Now he runs for safety. Ah legs are so useful!

Destination is still here, a race that runs around you.

Yet I see hands of believers in practical,

In theory they believe, I reality they can try,

They have moved, but it’s a journey,

They must travel, and away from theory,

For in theory…

They have been to places,

But in reality, they are still there.

And history is blind to see their deeds.

Look below the coat of arm!

Before the horses trample on our last green.

Can we unite and leave in peace?

Can we have the faith we need in ourselves and Nigeria,

Are we ready for progress in reality?

For in theory…

We are still here and can’t go anywhere.

Happy Birthday, My Nigeria

PEACE

Peace, it comes in bundle of thorns,
Punching, punctured blood stained finger,
Delivered in tears, like the fall of white waters,
Through the longest journey of courage,
Rage defeated, greed punished by selflessness.

Peace, it's heavy, a burden for those receiving,
It is joy, happiness for those upholding,
It’s warmth, shelters every lonely heart,
Its love, comfort for every broken mind,
It’s peace, light to every darkness,
Silence to every trouble.

Peace, a worthy gift for the world,
God's to give, man's to uphold.
It comes in bundle of thorns,
It’s heavy, a burden for those receiving,
It’s peace, let's make a peaceful world.

HURTING STORY

I fear my story for tale,
For yet, not a sweet to garnish,
A story of life, like a mine,
But where and when did it start?

The quest for happiness, I’m set,
In work, love and family,
With miles and more every step,
But did I find none? No!

I found it all in a cheering grip,
Applauding to the fit, instead of the hold,
Perhaps, just two hands I can boast,
But with none, what’s grip and applause?

I fight the battle of love with life,
Forcing to live when I can’t live a love,
Just the part that I love to hate,
But I’m sure the story isn’t ended yet.

To patch a hole, you’ll see a hole,
To replace a friend, you’ll find another,
The same of things you believe and yet fear,

SOMEONE NEW

Under a roof we seek furniture,
Under the shade, cold and soft breeze,
But alone in the scourge of the sun,
We seek shelter, a home and someone new.

Someone new, someone everywhere,
Anybody, or the one beside when I turn my head,
My words wait, my heart faints and I burn,
Yet I smile, for the unseen, I still wait!

In this clouds of friendship,
And the bid to replace what’s been lost,
I cross fingers and wait on future,
At the other side of the oven, like a baker
Neither will I choose nor hurry, worry but wait.

I dream of your plenty faces and shapes,
I never touched, but my wish is to hold,
Be there, never leave and make us live forever,
But I’m awake in my shamble, sitting on my crumbles,
Till I meet you like I’ve seen. Someone new.

THE AFRICAN DRUM

THE AFRICAN DRUM
The sound of our time,
the beat of our lives,
the story of our history,
the history of our making.
you are the joy of the very begining,
but the end of the new begining.


your sound was the best call,
your beats saw endless steps,
and your story made the moon stay extra night.
your history is what our future is missing,
your begining is locked in graves,
with your end missing down the shelves.


when can i find one drum so large,
termites feast my waiting flute,
age bends my patient legs,
and each day I move away from my voice.
my heart beat away each day in wait,
just to beat, just to hear and just to dance.


if in this life our meeting is never real,
History our heaven, will wait,
so back where hearts fear to reach,
someday with you i'll surely play.
this is to you a drum of memories,
to the drum that will never beat,
to you my African Drum.

you're okay.

Firstly, I'll start with you,
Cos I know no other as a place,
You're not that angel for everyone,
Yet you fly so high in my mind,
In my head you stroll like a shock,
And cause nothing but some joy.

For what I see, I'd like to start,
Ask who made your face and I'll say first,
He read my mind and made my choice,
He never failed my eyes to see still,
My heart to feel and my mouth to speak,
You're a beauty, beautifully made.

For what you can't see l'd go thus,
On the eyes that caught me staring,
On that beautiful spot on your cheek,
Dimples like two glasses for us,
Filled with spilling attractions that caught me,
That yet I stayed seeing the fire exit.

Who can I just call you?
Someone I met or someone in me, better,
No joy could better our moments,
No song can linger than your laughter,
No echo better sounds interesting,
And no one's better for this path,
But you… you're okay.