Waiting for the 90th (Two poems to WS @ 70 and 80)

1.

Enigmata (To Wole Soyinka @ 70).

You hated fruitless journeys abroad, yet

Aligned into a wasted generation at home:

Preferred Kafka quaffed in straight draughts

Yet stooped to housebreak Euripides for us:

A tiger flauntet not its tigritude, you said

As niggers brandished their negritude,

But now your leonine roar at life

Dovetails with your mane and gait.

You who weathered the storm

Of our nascent nationhood

In the deep recesses

Of your avid patriotism,

Starring in stick-and-burst ups

As the going got tough,

Even gentrifying their can

With your esteemed presence,

Only to reap the teargas

Of a protracted militarism

Steered by outsiders

Outweeping the bereaved.

Forget them that presume

The esoteric can’t and creed

Of your bandanaed clique at Ibadan

Spawned the current mayhem on campus –

For how can your hirsute self

Linguistic majesty et al

Partake in a cornucopia

Of raw skull and crossbones

And not puke your guts to submission

In second, third and fourth comings?

At the ripe age of four scores

When this pen shall sing of you again,

Long may you remain

The enigma you’ll ever be

Even as they grope in vain

Left in the slippery wake

Of your instructable presences.

© Isidore Emeka Uzoatu 2004.

2.

Stigmata – To Soyinka @80

laureate des nos jours:

who’d’a thunk it 

capo di tutti capi:

on Kawasaki of penultimate machismo 

connoisseur per excellence:

of the arts, wine & all 

obscurantist extraordinaire:

raven bums up, peroxide palms down 

fabulist ex nihilo:

setting chume et al forth afore dawn

thespian sino dubio:

even in dramas of own manufacture

raconteur in excelsis:

& the man resurrected in ake childhood 

fashionista faux-naïf:

as in dressing to please the self 

nationalista in extremis: 

stick-up tape exchange a gogo

songista ab initio:

when Nigeria never jaga jaga –

ten things to ten men 

a la Paul to the Corinthians, 

yet John the Baptist in the wild west 

to the eleventh, 

as decapitated bodies homed east 

after the blackout…

longer may you live 

sans stigma

till 90 when this pen shall sing

of the magma in your plasma.

©Isidore Emeka Uzoatu 2014.

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