Tell me a story, buy a ticket, take my mind on a trip, show me a picture of the world you wish we could live in

Take me in, wrap your arms round my shoulder, let your voice send thrills resounding all is well

Cry with me, do not wink at me to conceal the tears, let’s share a memory through the bubbles of our teardrops

Kiss me, place your skin against mine, let the union of our sweat hoard warmth in our sculpted frames

Laugh with me, let our breath be saturated with echoes of our laughter

Frown at me, rub my pride on my face when my ego tries to build a defense round my mistakes, let truth be the bond that glue us

Lend me your hand, be a friend, love me because I will never know what love is without being loved

©Esther Ikott


Amidst the path of life’s dimness
Thorns and roses bloom in my inner thigh
I see humanity lurking between church bells
As the sound scavenges through the wheels of the wind
Singing bewilderment hung on the gong of its lips

Under the shade of dusk’s arms
With sweaty hands tightened in dark vortexes of my clothings, my mind seeps through the face of the sky
Spotting the stars dancing on the lines of the cloud
Silent footsteps of thoughts thread the endless corridor of my mind
I’m a human with a frozen voice sojourning in orbits, dancing dangerously to the rhythm of the wind
Slowing drowning in the dream of my desired future

Through the darkness of my mind, I grasp for sunshine
But finds shades of black and white glowing against a cobalt blue sky
Here, my mind steps across the gloomy clouds and finally feels at peace, alone, in the world of fantasy where she grows
And what’s left are broken lines merged to form a song or a poem
But at least a sound that echoes with a chill, subsiding replacement smile, for I was told the future is bright, so I’ll hold onto the stars that blink when the sun doesn’t shine.

©Esther Ikott

Home (Poetry)

Photo source: Pixabay

Home, one place I wish to be and to have
To hold the broken pieces of my fragile bones and lay them down in peaceful sleep.
To hear the whisper of my mother’s thrilling voice as she gently run her hands on my head filled with thoughts of how beautiful the stars have come to be
Of how the trees can’t help but prove the awesomeness of creation when their branches wave

Home, where the faint picture of he and I who drew life from a bleeding cord hangs in my mind like a creepy dirty old fan I watched and nurtured for years and couldn’t let go, because that’s where I built my home, on the dusty blades that spread memories of a part of my flesh thrown to the earth

Home…away from the deep trenches of my lonely mind, away from the scars that keep unfolding, dying, healing and dying again because happiness is a scarce commodity you find only in your decisions too hard to make

Home..silence seems deafening but voices are echoing, confusion sets in and walls are crumbling in my head
Take the voices, keep the silence because I’ve built my own terrace with bricks of solitude
And silence was the only friend that came running in when my home was set ablaze and reduced to a tomb

Home, it’s in my eyes when I wink at the butterflies dancing around the nectar of the flowers in the field. It’s in my ears when I swallow the melodies of the birds as they sojourn back to their nest.
It’s in my head, a picture of it already broken and pieces lost to the breeze but home remains where my heart roams back after the chaos and that’s one place I wish to be and to have

©Esther Ikott


Photo source: http://nigeriahistorysources.blogspot.com/2012/10/colonialism-structures-administration.html

We are warriors scavenging for our crown buried in the caves of civilization
Drown in the streams of the blood of our brothers once shed for freedom

We are like stars in love with memories of how peaceful our clouds once were
The echoes of our folklores, our pride and our strength

We hold the beauty of the sun shining on our black skin that beams with pride
As dancers moving in orbit to the rhythm of their heritage

We are voices of the moonlight tales
Heard ascending gracefully across the horizon

We are the glories of our legacy, our myths and our skin
The pride of our heroes and the strength of our kins

We are Africans , decorated with strands of diversity
For posterity to cherish unity in diversity

© Esther Ikott


Behind the mask of our egos we hideWith our minds drenched in praises of our strengthBeneath the ocean of our achievements we sinkAnd let darkness crawl deep into our hearts

We hold our worth so high and deep
We steep our minds in the depth of our treasures
Singing tunes to adore our name
Basking ourselves in the flame of fame

We wash our faces in people’s praises
Erect walls of pride that makes us feel right
Slowly we slip into the arms of our doom
Because the devil ‘pride’ only visits with a fall

©Esther Ikott


As our ponderous eyes wake 

To the certainty of night

Where echoes fly

From the start of time

We glue our ears to the clouds

To listen to words that descend from high

There we hear the sound of a tune

Beyond the globe of our ears

Through the longest nights and the dimmest stars

Our muse whispers

And we catch swarms of ideas

Enough to sustain for immortality