‘Crik Crak’ Poem from my collection Before Twilight


    Welcome to my world

    my quiet world noisy

    with the scratch of pen

    recording the noise of life

    in cold lifeless scratches

    that build the fire

    in the heart of men

    who can make scratches talk

    who can light a flame

    from the crik-crak of pens

    for concealed in my world

    are passions of hearts gone cold

    aspirations of long dead hearts

    ambitions damp with dew

    all still alive and longing

    for a brave-heart

    to pick up the song again

    full of fear of the unknown

    for the pen drives men

    some to delirium and extremes

    for some knowing what is written

    some for not knowing

    being afraid that it be found out

    they bear down on the pen

    I am a brave-heart

    sick to my stomach with fear

    but crik-crak

    will crack my pen for life

    for crik is my soul

    and crak my mission

    till another runs for me

    and to my rest I go

    O that I may find rest

    on the soft words I have written

    and nestle down in my phrases

    my verse to be my veil

    crik-crak yet again.

    J Chuma Okoye,

    December 7, 2003.


1 Comment

  1. Juwon Odutayo said,

    Hmmm. Deep. Very deep.

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