I HAVE JUJU

I have juju

I confess

Sanctimoniously sanctified

Imperfectly perfect

Kept in my holy of holies

Cherished more than my life

Preserved for the day of strife

Feared more than a sword; a knife

It screams from a height              

Smoke bellowing from it at night

I have juju

Mother doesn’t know of it

Father has a hint of it

You have a feel of it

The world kowtows to it

Achebe had it

Our enemies tremble at it

I have juju

In my dusty, eerie cupboard lies my voodoo

It yells my name at night

What a freaking sight!

“Koby, touch me once more tonight!”

And won’t let me sleep until I touch it

If I don’t, I see it in my dreams

Personified as it seems

It has an uncanny, blue blood

I wonder why its body is so hard

And its smell travels that far

I wish I hadn’t gotten myself into this mess in the first place

An enjoyably needy mess

Especially in my early days

I was introduced

Initiated at birth

Passed on from death

It strangles me in my sleep

And tosses me over in my bed

“Koby, touch me once more tonight!” it said

I have juju

I confess

I use it to twist the thoughts of a twerp

And use it to control your emotions

I employ it at night to supply your thoughts during the day

Bittersweet

I use it to cast down imaginations

And run down confusions

Multi-tasking

A Jack of all genres

It soothes your heart

I have juju and I love my voodoo

I am creative

And my pen is my juju