tread that drab lonely path
nor act out a melodrama
whose only reality is pain.
Thus, I'm here to say,
I love you dearly, deary
you're actually invaluable
and I won't ever leave again.
'Can the couple please embrace themselves.' The Masked Poet instructed, signalling the end of the poem in the process.
The couple obliged as a rapturous ovation rented the air of the garden resort. This particular ovation presented a benign algebra; it was hard to place where it actually went to or who and what it was actually meant for and directed at respectively. Was it for the poem and it's beauty? Or that final embracing act of the couple? Or was it for everything and everyone related to, or associated with the poem? Whatever, it was very clear the impact was immense on the the invited guests. And even much more immense on the reunited couple...............but you know, in parallel dimensions.
Beforehand, Victor was expecting a burst up from Delight but made sure it was preserved to the very end, to which he also has an already made plan. He made sure all through that evening, they were not short of the presence of guests as for civility, he knew Delight wouldn't dare to cause a scene by demanding answers for the invisible performance of the Masked Poet at the party by way of a confrontation. Even while driving her home after seeing off the guests, he ensured there were at least three friends, two of his, and one of Delight's, accompanying them in the car. But she could not hold it in any longer when she got home. Before alighting from the car, she lashed out at Victor characteristically as in when she is ready for a fight;
'Victor, what was that all about?' She burst suddenly and angrily, taking all in the car by surprise.
'Excuse me?' Victor replied calmly, feigning a pretence of ignorance as to what she was getting at.
- Don't even dare, patronizing me. You know exactly what I'm talking about.
- For goodness' sake I'm not in your mind, how would I know what is in there and where you are driving at?
- Victor, can you tell me why you chose to ruin my birthday this evening?
- Jeezz!....... Would you please get to the heart of this allegation?
- Why did you make that nasty arrangement?
- What nasty arrangement are you talking about?
- Why did you book for an invisible performance by the Masked Poet?
- Oh that? Is it why you are flaring up? Over such an insignificant matter? His visibility isn't the most important aspect of him, rather, his poems and the voice with which he reads them. Thus, we got from him what we paid for, others pale into insignificance.
- Says who? Why would you be the only one to make such an important decision? Am l also that insignificant?
- But it was a good decision.
- This was my party! I should partake in the decision making. As a matter of fact, l should be the paramount decision maker and bring in others if I want to, but you hijacked that decision making prerogative and only succeeded in abusing an undeserved privilege! You ruined my day!
- I don't get it; just what is it about the Masked Poet's invisibility? He is masked anyways.
- Yesss........ The very reason why you should have booked him visible, as everybody already know he is masked, yet still want to see his mask and the other bodily parts of the person in it...........
'Can you both catch a deep breath please!' One of Victor's friend, Roy, interrupted the fight. 'You shouldn't be fighting on a day like this. I mean, you are just back from a reunion bash!'
'No Roy,' she retorted. 'It's high time you spoke to your friend to stop with this overbearing attitude of his. He doesn't own the world, he has to seek others' inputs before making pivotal decisions, more so, when it borders on someone else's undisputed life's jurisdiction. If you have been ignoring it or covering up for him, you'd better start confronting him as this time around, l won't take all that. I thought he has changed like he told me, but that supposedly changed lifestyle is now on a drastic trial of sincerity ......... ...'
'Calm down beauty queen!' Her friend, Gem, got in the fray. 'Whatever it is, you guys can sort it out later. It is not proper to fight in public like this you know.'
'And l know that way too well.' She replied her. 'I also know it is the exact corner he wants me in so I wouldn't speak up about his misdemeanour but I have also chosen to purposely agitate here so you all would know; so you all don't blame me in the future when it boomerangs!'
'So, l want to ask:' Victor broke his spell of silence. 'Between the poet and his poems, which means more to you?
- And who gave you the right to make that parcellation? When were artistes separated from their talents? Did you invent that? Have you ever witnessed a Michael Jackson show without his presence when he was alive? Who attends such a show? I wanted to see the Masked Poet and hear his poems as well!
- l see. So, the Masked Poet, as in the person, has in actuality, been your subject of interest from the beginning? Well, you come clean at last!
This last statement of his irked Delight so much so she went on a heart rendering tirade:
- You see, Roy, Mark, Gem. Hope you can now see what has been the soul of this issue? This is the real reason Victor, after l allowed him a free hand and an open heart to negotiate with the Masked Poet, went and arranged for a faceless performance, all for fear l would like him. I mean, who reasons like that? Look, l thought he has changed but this inferiority complex keeps surging every now and then. I'm just tired of.............
- Wait a minute; what did l just hear you call me?
- You heard me right didn't you?
- Now, get out of this car!
- What?
- I said get out of this car before I lay my hands on you!
'Take it easy Victor,' Mark intervened. 'It hasn't come to this yet.'
'I am absolutely disappointed at you both.' Gem chipped in. 'This is nothing but childish tantrums. You certainly can do better.'
'Fine, l will get out.' Delight told victor. 'And make sure you don't come looking for me again. All you do is fetch me emotional restlessness. Your love is nothing but trauma!'
With this last statement, she opened the door to step out of the car. While in that motion, Victor muttered:
- And don't even dream of going to that idiotic Masked Poet at the Emotional House or anywhere else. I won't tolerate it.
- Oh my God! I have been enslaved! Bought as a slave by a merchant of Venice! This time around Victor, you will see the other side of me. Try that silly pattern of yours, then you will know that I didn't punch certain keys in the past does not mean I am a fool or a coward. This time, l will punch them! In fact, double punch them! I will punch them till they crash by my fingers. And mind you, as you go about actualizing your threat, remember the saying: "hell hath no fury than the..............." You know the rest; you can fill in the blanks. Mttchwwwww.
She alighted from car and closed the door after her with a bang. Gem her friend followed her, chiding yet calming her down simultaneously. Roy and Mark starred on in speechless bewilderment which is aptly captured in the following lines:
The greatest night of irony
when the moon shone brightly
yet could not dispel the dark
when the stars twinkled
but only just as twilights
when a night of sweet reunion
became one of bitter disunion.
CHAPTER 10
'The Masked Poet can save a life!
even better than many doctors!
Well, that's the very little l know about poetry, I'm not the Masked Poet you know.'
Ha ha ha ha..........ha ha ha.......................ha ha ha..........
These were the words of a lady who had an encounter with the Masked Poet while sharing it on a live tv show. The tv show is called: 'My Most Astounding Moment,' and is a platform where people with astounding stories of their feats in life, be it in business, marriage, career, health, and others,
are invited to share their stories with the public. On this day, a young lady by name Prisca Lomia, was the special guest. Her story is about her miraculous survival from terminal cancer courtesy of an encounter with the Masked Poet upon hiring his services.
A little excerpt from the interview goes thus:
'Are you saying the Masked Poet is a healer?' The show's anchor asked Prisca.
'Not at all.' Prisca replied. 'He is just a poet, a masked poet.'
- How come he is responsible for your cancerous survival?
- Simple: he showed me the way.
- Really? How?
- With poems of course! What else would you think?
- I'm just at a loss how poems direct the way to cancerous survival.
- You see, initially, when my fiance brought him to my hospital bed on an outdoor service, the poems he paid him for, highlighted the depth of our love's plight in a special way making my fiance and I even greater lovers close to my dying day. But afterwards, he offered for free, another poem which aimed at persuading me, before introducing me to Pastor Ben Ndubueze of Jesus Vineyard Ministries. This was on a backdrop of total personal hatred for men of God for previous deceits and inabilities to help my circumstances. But not for the power of the words of that poem, l would never be convinced into giving church healers another trial. But after the poem, he gave me the pastor's number who put me through a spiritual therapy and just like that, now, I am totally free of terminal cancer. So, my first and foremost praise goes to God Almighty and Jesus Christ the healer, but I am making a case for the gifting of the Masked Poet. I wouldn't see the light without his efforts.
- Is your present health status confirmed?
- Sure! Here are the medical reports; one contrasting the other as in before and after the spiritual healing, from the same hospital.
She handed the medical papers to the anchor.
'Wow! This is a total clearance! And all courtesy of the trigger of a poem you say?' The anchor remarked and probed again.
- Yes, the poem of a certain masked poet.
- Surely, he has his part in saving your life!
- The Masked Poet can save a liiiffeee!..........
- Indeed! So, your wedding is coming up...................
- In a fortnight. You are invited.
- And I guess..........
- Why not!!..... The Masked Poet performs live............
'Hello.'
'Hello.'
'Is this the Masked Poet?'
'The Masked Poet on the line.'
- Do you know whom you are talking to?
- Not an idea in the world.
- It is Chief and Mrs. Ozahome; remember us?
- Oh! Very well sir, good afternoon daddy.
- Thanks so much my son. Do you know you can save a marriage?
- Really? I'm flattered sir.
- It's not a flatter my son. Do you know since our last visit to the Emotional House, my wife's love and mine have been sweeter, sweetest, "sweeterest!"
- Ha ha ha ................ha ha ha...........
- Not just that, we appreciate each other the more, understand each other the more, and most importantly, there is peace in the home!'
- Oh! I'm so glad to hear that. Right now, I feel fulfilled.
- Thank you my son. More grease to your elbow. Please remain steadfast to your calling and rescue many more marriages in Jesus name.
- Amen. Thank you sir.
- My wife wants to say hi.
- Okay.
- Hello? The Masked Poet, how are you?
- Mummy, I'm fine and you?
- As you have heard from my husband we are doing just fine. My son, may your days be long; may you be in health; may God take you higher; and most importantly, may he give you a good wife!
- Thank you mummy. I say amen to all those.
- Okay. Bye for now.
- Wait a minute mummy; l am still expecting more patronage from you both o. In fact, l have sweeter poems for sale.............
They both gave it a good laugh.
The Masked Poet drove into the parking lot of the Purified Zion Church of God. It was 4pm in the evening and the church's security protocols directed him to the space he now parked on, he could hear the sounds of animated worship going on in the main auditorium of the large church edifice. It was a Saturday, the variety evening of the church's annual youth convention. Few weeks ago, the church's youth pastor had contacted him to render a poem or two at the convention for the edification, comforting, and exhortation of the youths. The pastor informed he has been following him for sometime now and knew a thing or two about him, one being he is a born again christian, a fact the Masked Poet confirmed. The other thing he appreciates about him is his display of the sense of morality in his poems as they are devoid of sexually provocative words, sexual imagery, evil, crime, negative incitation, hatred, and the pull of immorality. Based on these, he would like the Masked Poet to write at least a gospel poem to stir the inner beings of the christian youth; who knows, he could inspire many to aspire to poetry and discover dormant God given talents in them. And today, he was around to honour that invitation. The pastor had offered to pay the required fee for such outdoor service, but the Masked Poet told him as a mark of his godly principles, whenever it has to do with the church, and invariably rendering a service to God, he does it basically pro bono; but within him, he also knew if at the end of such a rendition, the church appreciated him with a gift, he would not turn down such a holy honorarium.
At the allocated time, he was introduced to the teeming congregation of youths for a poetic rendition, but eventually, he rendered two. After formal exchange of pleasantries, he informed the first poem is entitled: 'YOU MUST DIE!'
Ha ha ha ha ha
Hmmnnn.........
I know, yes I know
I'll receive no love
It's true, yes it's true
I'll neither be liked
for from the sea of people
facing me, l sense unease
at my very harmless message
l see thru' their postures,
minds which have faces
faces which have mouths.
The faces of their minds
shouting, scolding, screaming, rebuking:
'What? Have you gone nuts?'
'Hey! You must be crazy!'
'I mean, did you hear him?'
'Now I see, this gent can't see
that death's man's sore enemy'
'I know, this gent doesn't know
everyone runs from grim death!'
'I realize, this gent doesn't realize
nobody ever wants to die!'
Yet l set a hard face
like the flint of a rock
and insist, muster, assert:
that you.... must....die!
Die, yes, like really dying
yes, l mean death, like
laying still and very cold
your legs becoming lame
your hands becoming lifeless
your eyes closed and blinded
and......you.......know,
you are unconscious of your surroundings
you......know,
you are no longer able to achieve dreams
you.....know,
you are unable to get married
yes, just that terrible.
I know, l just inflicted a big wound
but now, I'll add salt to injury
and show you, the easiest way to die!
Hold a big sharp knife
first, cut off your legs
second, cut off an arm
third, gouge your eyes
fourth, cut off your ears
then, finally, stab your heart!
Ha ha ha ha ha...................
Did you take me seriously?
Ha ha ha ha ha......... ..
Did l say you must die?
I actually really meant
you......should.....live
&n
bsp; live and never die again!
Let your flesh die!
kill your carnal nature
and.......live...........
Make God's word your knife
with it, stop your legs
from running to evil
with it, stop your hands
from stealing and treachery
with it, close your eyes
to immoral pix and counsels
and with it receive,
the heart of flesh Jesus gives
and you shall live, live, and live.......
But remember this......
first, you.....must......die!
When he announced the end of the poem, the obviously touched youths arose to a very noisy but hearty ovation. Even the youth pastor and other elders of the church present at the convention rose to applaud too. He simply preached the gospel in a special way - through poems, they thought. It wasn't the poem of a secular citizen, this young man is truly a devout christian or at least, knows the gospel well enough to articulate such breathtaking imagery. At a point, they were lost to the suspense of the poem, but when it landed, its message gave the heart, serious food for thought. For once, the elders agreed to the relevance of scripturally constructed poems to the church. As for the youthful congregation, it was good to know the Masked Poet is very much one of them.
If they felt impressed and heart touched by the first rendition, then the Masked Poet's second poem was not only spellbinding, it reiterated fear, retrospect, and sober reflections; the type of attitude associated with messages of this sort. He announced the title of the poem as: 'AT THE RAPTURE.'
At the rapture,
People wailing
gnashing their teeth
they're regretful
and quiet wishful
but it's too late.
At the rapture,
peace taken away
the fullness of evil
unheralded tribulation
the beast reigning
real troublous times!
For a certain people
people who rebelled
people who sinned
but not for me
and perhaps you too....
Cos at the rapture,
The Masked Poet Page 12