The Masked Poet
Page 20
my father, my papa, is responsible
my father, my papa, loves me
and he will return to me!
But then wait a minute!
He is here! He has returned!
Oyoyo! Papa oyoyo
see the enemies running away!
Oyoyo! Papa oyoyo
I won't beg for bread again!
Oyoyo! Papa oyoyo
my mockers shall be shamed
Oyoyo! Papa oyoyo
I'll sail on a recovery spree!
Oyoyo! Papa oyoyo
my abandonment now demises!
Oyoyo! Papa oyoyo
my sure change has dawned!
And it happened, yes it happened
when father returned from his sojourn
he put all my cares to the sword.
'Thanks for listening to Delight's poem. It ends here.' The Masked Poet told the house.
There was a round of laughter mixed with applauses from the small crowd.
'My oh my!' Delight's father exclaimed. 'Can words be so sweet? This is absolutely incredible! Someone just pumped my ego!
'Daddy, I'm glad you like my little gift. I truly appreciate all you have been through to get me to where I am today. You see, the Masked Poet did those poems for me. I'm not so gifted that's why I hired him, but I want to say the least l know: I love you daddy.'
- Thank you my pretty angel. I will reminisce this Fathers' Day for a very long time if not forever. Young man, once again, thanks for agreeing to follow my daughter down here to make these renditions.............
- Yes daddy, he shunned better and probably more lucrative offers in the capital city to come here.
- You see....... Exactly what I am talking about. I'm truly grateful my son. But what is your name? I hear this 'Masked Poet' flying around.
'Sir, that is my name for now, officially and otherwise.' Answered the Masked Poet.
- Is that? But why that choice of name?
- Just like Lagbaja, I want to be free to express myself whenever, without fear or favour.
- Understood. But would there be a time you will reveal your true identity?
- Yes. On my wedding card.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha...........................
'But it appears this is more than just a service, am I right in suspecting you are my daughter's friend or colleague?' Mr. Same observed.
'We are friends sir.' The Masked Poet replied.
- Hmmnnn.......... May your friendship last; may nothing come between it, and may it go places.
- Amen.
'Amen.' Delight responded too.
'Thank you my son.' Her mother spoke at last.
'Thank you mama.' He answered.
'Yes, that reminds me,' Delight cut in, 'Mummy, I also have poems for you courtesy of the Masked Poet as well, to give you a belated Mothers' Day celebration.'
- Ah ah....... He writes for mothers too?
- Mummy, he writes on everything and for almost everyone.
- Is that so? I hope it will be sweeter than your father's?
'Don't worry mama,' the Masked Poet soothed. 'it will be sweeter.'
- Okay. Read it then, I am all ears.
- Actually, it is not it, but them.
- Yes! I thought as much, it has to be two as well for fairness, balance, and equity.
- So, the first goes like this..........
After reading the poems and the attendant pleasantries of appreciation, Delight's mother called her aside and asked her:
'Why are you not telling us the truth about this young man?'
'Mummy, I don't get you.' Delight argued. 'What truth are you talking about?'
- Is he not your lover?
- Mummy! He is not; he is just a friend.
- Delight, I'm your mum and a woman, I see love glowing in your eyes each time you look at him; are you sure you don't love him?
- No mum, I don't.
- Well, I want to advise you marry and settle down. You girls of this generation, you allow civilization to becloud you and fetch you a future of regrets and many frustrations. Please don't fall into that trap; marry early.
- Okay mummy, I have heard.........
CHAPTER 19
'MP, this is the last time we'll be seeing for sometime. My flight is for tomorrow evening. Please wish me luck.' Delight requested.
They were having lunch together once again at the Phantasy eatery.
'Please remind me where it is holding.' The Masked Poet inquired.
- Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
- Okay. I already prepared a valedictory poem to meet your request.
- That's the Masked Poet I know! Please waste not a moment more, I can't wait to take in.
- It is titled: 'TO THE WAR OF BEAUTIES.' And it goes like this:
Our beauty queen goes to war
how ironic that a queen wars!
yet our beauty queen goes to war
but don't fret about it
it is only a war between beauties!
So, wish her well
then, wish her luck
you patriotic nationals
wear her the strongest armour
make her an unbreakable sword
to crush her enemies with.
Our beauty queen has prepared
the warrior queen has rehearsed
she has perfected her gait
she has rejigged her intellect
she broadened her global horizon
she embellished her global appeal
she is propped with achievements
and equipped with mental hyperopia.
To you esteemed warrior queen
how uneasier your crown gets
as you bear the nation's fate
the destiny of many millions.
Remember, you'll cross many rivers
and face the harshest weathers
you'll encounter fierce enemies
and such stealth which ensnare
you'll confront lurking lions
to poach on your intellectuality
you'll experience many filth
sparring to stain your belle
you'll be behind the eight-ball
as the war gets toughest.
So, gem of a warrior queen
when you face other beauty queens
their looks should not cower you,
be confident; you're more beautiful
when you see fellow warrior queens
aesthetically armed to the teeth,
be bold; you're certainly stronger
when before a passionate audience
demanding impossibilities from you,
be courageous; stir applauses instead
when before real mean judges
uncompromising regarding benchmarks,
be steadfast; extract a no gainsaying!
Then, dear warrior queen
we expect, and may you
behead all your enemies
we expect, and may you
cut their egos to shreds
we expect, and may you
bring plenty war booties
we expect, and may you
be unlimited by the sky
we expect, and may you
excel with flying colours
we expect, and may you
return to a heroine's welcome!
'This is my send forth wish to our heroine in waiting.' He said as he signalled the end of the valedictory poem.
When he finished, her eyes were filled with tears as she replied:
'Now you want to make me cry.'
He saw the flowing tears and reacted:
- But you are actually crying.
- Yes, but they are tears of joy.
- I rather think they should be tears of determination.
- Poor me! It could well be tears of responsibility; rather, tears from the approaching sense of responsibility.
- Ho ho...... Whatever, they are all good tears..........
But
truth is, she was in silent tears not because of all the aforementioned, but rather because she is sad the Masked Poet was not yet her lover. This particular lunch, reduced to a meal between friends, would have been a love scene where as love birds, they would be shedding tears of love; of the genre which flows from the gloomy loneliness potentially, of missing a partner to a sojourn for a period of time. Perhaps then, it would not be only a valediction of heroics, but more fittingly, a relish of loving valediction, romantic valediction, and sentimentality passionate valediction. That feel of love and romance was missing here and she cried so loudly in her heart, but controlled it with her brain because she knows if there was anyone who could optimally combine a secular valediction with a romantic one, it s the Masked Poet. There and then, she decided when she's back from the Miss World Pageantry, this suspense will stop!
But as observed, on this lunch date, Victor didn't show up again, and of course, there were no skirmishes.
Hurray! Delight is runner up at the Miss World beauty pageant; she placed second! It was an incredible feat amongst a host of beauties from all over the world. She was amongst the best and the federal government thought it wise to accord her befitting honour. She was given a grand presidential reception and by her newly found prestige, she pressed the appropriate buttons to demand the Masked Poet be invited to perform on the reception night. This was as well, a marked elevation for the Masked Poet on the national scene and as he prepared for the show, he gave it the appropriate attitude.
When he was as eventually invited to the stage for his poetic rendition on the night, he informed the gathering his poem is tittled: 'SUPER HEROINE.'
If anybody wants to be my heroine,
she must be a beauty goddess
if anybody wants to be my heroine,
she must be an aesthetic vanquisher
if anybody wants to be my heroine,
she must be amongst the very best
if anybody wants to be my heroine,
she must be a brave lioness queen
if anybody wants to be my hero,
she must rule the global beauty jungle.
Exquisite, rapturing Delight Same
is my heroine, our heroine
straight from her victorious conquest,
we would line the streets, hailing:
'heroine, heroine, heroine
heroine, heroine, super heroine!'
Delight, my heroine, our heroine
is not just a beauty goddess
but the incarnation of beauty
she is not just an aesthetic vanquisher
but of international pedigree
she is not just amongst the best
but is, best of the best
she is not just a brave lioness
but is planetarily indomitable
she just doesn't rule the global jungle
her dominion extends to infinity.
Our heroine returns, a white rider
we would stand like soldiers, chanting
'heroine, heroine, heroine
heroine, heroine, super heroine!'
My heroine, our heroine, isn't merely
rather, she is a true heroine
she's done extraordinary feats
she didn't return empty handed
instead, she brought war booties:
one, she brought home a medal
two, she exhibited faultless character
three, she emboldened the nation's map
four, all cosmic eyes on us now.....
five, massive volitient war prisoners
appropriately put, volitient beauty captives
on a voyage to unearth more Bellas!
Our heroine's with many spoils of war
thus we will rise to an ovation:
'heroine, heroine, heroine
'heroine, heroine, super heroine!'
And to the nation, you Nigeria
accord our heroine due honour
give her a national medal
let the president embrace her
the aristocracy, a handshake
play her the victory sounds
make her a first class citizen
make her a GCFRN!
build her a magnificent house
attach her a car too
upgrade her financial status
make her a sacred national property
let her never lack a thing
pet her like a susceptible egg
pamper her like a day old chick
then, bankroll her marriage
marry her only to a hero too!
Even......even......even ....
make her above the law!!!
At this point, the Masked Poet implored the already captivated audience:
'Please if you love and appreciate our heroine, and you think she is deserving of our specially heartfelt honouring, then stand and join me as I hail, chant, and to the ovation:
'heroine, heroine, heroine
heroine, heroine, super heroine!'
The president was the first to stand, the whole house joining afterwards and soon, the whole hall was filled with chants of:
'heroine, heroine, heroine
heroine, heroine, super heroine!
heroine, heroine, heroine
heroine, heroine, super heroine!
heroine, heroine, heroine
heroine, heroine, super heroine!'
Delight was overwhelmed for lack of words. Beyond the songs rendered by hot afro pop musicians on the night, beyond the addresses and speeches, this to her, was the best moment of the reception, and the peak of all the activities on display to receive her. Once again, and in a celebratory atmosphere as well, someone stole her soul, lightened her carnation, making her drift towards the sky; interestingly, that someone is still a certain Masked Poet. This is why she did everything within her power to make sure he was invited to perform.................and he made her day. Soon, appropriate music sounds from no where, joined the chants.
But this particular performance was proving the biggest yet as the personalities now standing for her honour, and hailing her heroics, were the best from the timber and caliber in the land. 'This Masked Poet is surely phenomenal!' She reasoned. 'To get aristocrats on their feet for a common girl like me? But is this just about his job, or poetic abilities, or could there be some tinge of love flakes behind it? You know, she is now a global star and may be, the Masked Poet is falling at last.! And God knows, not even the wealthiest billionaire, nor his son, could steal the heart, and the love that is already the Masked Poet's! Surely, in the whole wide world, there can't be a better lover who connects to her soul.'
The chantings brought her back to her present environs. Initially, she sat while the chant began, but at a point as the ovation grew louder, she couldn't hold it any longer. She got up, walked to the President's stand full of smiles, embraced him and the first lady, made a curtsey to the other dignitaries on that stand, then she walked to the stage the Masked Poet performed on, made several curtseys as well to all guests in attendance to the east, west, and south of the hall. Finally, she gave the Masked Poet a very warm embrace. Then she went back to her seat and as she sat, the Masked Poet brought the chanting to an end................
CHAPTER 20
The next 30 days was a very busy period for Delight as entity after entity in the nation wanted to host her including her state government, the Cross River State government. And so were the financial opportunities flooding in as well, as companies after companies endorsed her for various ranges of advertisement deals. Thus, for a month, she and the Masked Poet could not see. Coincidentally, the Masked Poet was equally engaged. It was the season of the national poetry contest again. He was informed he has been invited to be the special guest of honour for the three week long contest. As part of that honorary status, he was scheduled to address this year's participants on what it takes to be a good poet. As an outstanding success story of the competition, many more than the organizers and participatory contesta
nts, booked for seats to listen to him. Two days before that pre-competition address, the organizers announced they've received bookings for seats regarding the address by the Masked Poet, close to thrice the size of the hall of event. At a point, they wished they sold tickets, but it was a bit late for such a re-organization and re-arrangement.
On the set day, after being introduced to the audience, he began:
'I intend to make my address a brief one, but as usual, it is going to be impactful. Also, as I am known to be a poet and not necessarily a public speaker, and in addition to the fact that I was specifically detailed to address aspiring poets, it is all the more obliging to use and speak the language of poets and poetry.
Thus, for you aspiring poets, by the poem I'm going to read out now, I want to tell you what it takes to compose good poems and invariably be a good poet. After this address, I will make a copy of this poem available to each and every aspirant as I may read a bit too fast for you to write all the wordings, and also for the purpose of subsequent meditative internalization.
Here's the title of this poem of an address: 'A POET....'
A poet is a painter of invisibles
his poems carnate such latencies
his wordings colouring such paintings
A poet is an imagery inventor
her poems arouse mental creations
which propel more than tangibles
A poet is an emotional fountain
his poems, the grasp of reigning aura
the letters bettering or worsening intently
A poet is a lexical artist
her poems are graphically sensorial
her words, the graphical semantics.
A poet is an aesthetics custodian
enchanting the ugly to become appealing
valuing the beauteous beyond exceptionality
A poet is music's creche
his poems, the progenitor of songs
his rhythm, the lyrical kindergarten
A poet demystifies words
her poems, the simple should comprehend
her gift, a sun on dark acts
A poet is a seamless communicator
his poems target human bosoms