Fiction II THIS LONELY PATHWAY

By Fred Nwaozor

I will wear my mask
While I do my work.
Yes, even on a mast
And as I take a walk.

This is to avoid a blast
From the new Corona
Who has come in vast
To maim my new Corolla.

I'm now on the alert
To strangle the pandemic,
Even as the bank alert
Ceased to enter my pan-den.

Let's lock-up the doors
While the lock-down lasts.

Fred Nwaozor
Poet, Novelist & Playwright

Fiction II WHAT A PANDEMIC!

Poet: Fred Nwaozor

Oh, what a pandemic
In this global village
Disrupting human isodemic
Even in our local village!

This is so demonic
To our collective existence.
Hence, needs severe demo
To quench the persistence.

As we mainly deploy exorcism
To free the bedevilled atmosphere,
It's noteworthy that this exodus
Needs more of forensic sphere.

So, while COVID-19 sputters
Let's jettison anything spurious.

POEM I What Hurts Most

By Chioma Love Enwerem

I do not lose sleep
When you hush me
To blow your trumpet.

I do not frown
When you munch cake
Meant for two.

I do not howl
When you pick
On my wound.

I do not quit
When your footsteps
Halt my lively laughter.

I do not hate you
When your dry smiles
Make me freeze.

But I weep when you
Dance naked
In the market square
Where thousand eyes
Feast on your naked body

And chant your emptiness.

Yes, I weep!
I do weep!!

Dr. Enwerem, a poet, educationist & social crusader, 

wrote in via chiomashedrach@gmail.com