Forgotten Man

Forgotten man

I came out of the mine today
After scrabbling at the mother lode
Assisted with a radio spewing the ode
Of the world above
As I crawled towards the circle of white
My mind was awash with fright
Now I stood outside
The light; why does it sting my eyes so?
Stabbing my eyes with rainbow blades
The wind; why does it mock my clothes so?
Flapping them like a polythene bag in the wind
The water drags me in an ankle lock
Trying to drag me in a viscous vortex
Spittle rumbles from my rib cage
I wipe my mouth
Why is it scarlet?
The mucus glowing like red jell-o
A sore sight for pretty eyes
Birds scream in my ear
Cauterizing my cochlea with iron hot insults
My mind is in disarray
Memories seeping away as the sand in my hands slither
Nibbling the skin of my palms
Tan rats hissing at each other as they hit the ground
The ignominy of the assault on my senses
The democracy of nature
Is an affront to my mind
The dark never looked so friendly
The gloom made a snug blanket
I look down
At the circle of black
And I fly into its charcoal depths
© Sena Kodjokuma, 2013


Glenn: a lesson well taught

“When a good thing goes bad it’s not the end of the world, it’s just the end of a world” – Drake, Doing It Wrong

7th January 2011, I’ll never forget that night. That night a friend passed away. My former class and housemate. Not a close friend but his passing rocked me to my core. It felt like a piece of me had just disappeared for good. The thought that a living person would in another moment cease to draw breath and be declared dead was a frightening one. I had lost a loved one before. My grandfather had passed a few years before that. Nothing though could prepare me for this; a young man approaching his prime hacked down. Death. Very often my mind strays towards that moment and I find myself asking “what actually happens at the moment of death?” They say you know when you’re about to die. I wonder how true it is. I think of what Glenn’s last thoughts would have been like. I look back at my life and I wonder who would bother to show up at my funeral and listen to the nice things said about me. The people I care about, the ones who won my heart. I wonder how they would feel. What if I suddenly died. Would the pain of having to bury a child overwhelm my parents? Not very comfortable thoughts. All too often I itch to start writing my autobiography. I guess I want to have some measure of control in my death. Soon after Glenn passed I used to dream about dying. Each time my spirit passes from my body and I roam; disembodied. In my innate curiosity that dark hole exists. When my body becomes food, an apex predator is reduced to fodder. All the intricate systems woven into me, all the experiences I have acquired turns to mush. It’s a surprisingly calm thought. The struggle to overcome death is why we live. We crave to do great deeds and erect monuments so we are remembered after we’re long gone. Even the intangible dies, so the fate of mortality cannot be delayed. I believe death is the start of a new life. My faith teaches me that. Whenever I interact with my environment i appreciate life even more. Coming to terms with the reality of my finiteness is a lesson taught to me by Glenn. Even in the grave the dead influence the affairs of the living. From grandpa, the first person I lost, the value of living is knowledge.

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”- Matthew 6:21

Peter Y. Kodjokuma 1924 – 2008
Glenn Agbana: 1990 – 2011

You are fondly remembered.


The beauty of life,
Is that,
It’s plain ugly.



The white caps gallop
The land
Sea roars; an azure monster
Fettered by sand
;Ghost crabs


When I was a child, 
Being a doctor or lawyer was my dream. 

When I was a child, 
Girls were just weird kids who wore skirts and didn’t have wee wees. 

When I was a child, 
Getting naked was much more fun than having clothes on; 
at least I didn’t have to worry about getting spanked for being dirty. 

When I was a child, 
my parents’ friends fussed over how cute I was; 
(I almost always got sweets! :)) 

When I was a child, 
my only worries were what to eat and which toys were best. 
When I was a child, 
bigger boys always won fights no matter how hard I punched. 

When I was a child, 
Movies and Santa Claus were real. 

When I was a child, 
the dark had monsters behind the wardrobe and glowing eyes were devil eyes. 

When I was a child, 
I didn’t believe in dying. 

When I was a child, 
the biggest boy in class was no match for a girl; he always wound up crying. 

When I was a child, 
I could never get why grown-ups listened to love songs; they made me sleepy. 

When I was a child, 
the kid with the new ball always chose the first team. 

When I was a child, 
Daddy’s yell hurt more than millions of ma’s spanking. 

When I was a child, 
I wondered how people got inside the TV. without me ever noticing. 

When I was a child, 
bathing with girls was routine. 

When I was a child, 
I was a “Power Ranger”. 

When I was a child, 
I wondered why grown-ups didn’t cry when they got hurt; 
they cried if someone stopped talking to them. 

When I was a child, 
Ma and Daddy weren’t born; 
they just happened to be there. 

When I was a child, 
I threw tantrums whenever I wanted something. 

When I was a child, 
the most difficult question was a division question. 

When I was a child, 
“Mental” was brutal. 

When I was a child, 
I always got 100/ 100. 

When I was a child, 
Grandpa and Grandma always gave more money than Ma and Daddy; 
(they always snatched it afterwards). 

When I was a child, 
birthdays meant I was growing taller; 
(and becoming a big boy though I wasn’t any bigger). 

When I was a child, 
Grown-ups did whatever they liked. 

When I was a child, 
I always said “When I grow up……” 

Now that I’m almost grown up, 
being a grown up doesn’t seem so fun anymore. 

Girls who used to beat boys weep then the same boys break their hearts; 
Having a girlfriend was much more stressful than guarding your favorite toy; 
tantrums got you grounded and allowances grew smaller with each year; 
a short guy can actually K.O a taller and bigger guy. 

Math formulas could make you faint; 
Football, cars and girls were worth getting into fights over. 
Girls were the new toys when you had money; (damn they make you broke!!!) 
Getting naked meant you were either getting laid, getting a bath, being humiliated or just plain stupid. 
You always had your rep and ego to protect. 

Then I just wish I was a child again………… 

(c) Sena Kodjokuma 2012

Alcohol Coloured Reflections

Alcohol colored reflections

I buried you last night
In a pool of booze after the fight Light headed, tipsy already in full flight
My hands shaky with fright
This is something I must do with my might
Gotta correct this blight
Scraping the filth encrusting my eyes so I can see the light
I miss your smell; your arms holding me tight
Your broad smile and twinkling eyes; your face a runaway kite.
It’s all become deadweight
Stuff I’ll hand over to freight
Into my head I recede; may be you’ll just be a dream
And I hope everything will be alright

© Sena Kodjokuma 2013

‘Ere I am

‘ere I sought you
Aware of your bound hands
‘ere I saw you
I did a merry dance
‘ere I knew you
I saw a chance
‘ere I love you
You haunt my dreams and prance
‘ere I feel you
Your lips are the memories perchance
‘ere I sought you
In the arms of your lover
‘ere I wrested you away
Towards him you ran dapper
‘Ere I’m left alone in my thoughts
Wondering if you are a four leaf clover
Gathering moss and lichens
Never going
Yet never fading away

A stone in a field