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Jeffrey (Plumbline) email@example.com; @Plumbtifex is from Lagos Nigeria.
Home is where the Hurt is a reflection on the love-hate-love Triangle between the Poet and his Lagos Homeland.
Home, where is home? Home is just a stone throw from lone road, no jokes, stone cold avenue, where Coccoa Revenue, has given way to that from black gold and dashed hopes to raise an army of dark souls who never saw a Dictionary nor a Thesaurus, who never got a Christmas gift from Toys are Us and have improvised with guns and bombs.
Home, is hope at home? I’ve looked everywhere, I see no hope, all I see is Soldiers’ Shrapnels, guns and grenades, bombs and billows of smoke
Home is where the hurt is, my beloved Country, abode for all and sundry has morphed into a humongous morgue where Cops be stacking corpses
I’m home alone Macaulay Culkin, my clock tick-tocking, as over and over and over my heart’s withdrawing, far away from home, still my mind hovers and hovers and hover to my Origins, Nigeria, Lagos, Lagos Island, Ita-Akanni, home of the Saros, the Agudas, the Aworis, the White Capped Chiefs and the lineage of Kings like Kosoko, Akitoye, Dosumu, fast forward to Oyekan, the Pharmacist king who passed on to Rilwan, Akiolu….
Home is where the Artists, queue at Toyota and Coscharis to audition for Japanese and American Idols, where the Icon is the Immaculate Masquerade, the Agogoro Eyo.
Isale Eko Lagos, my home, by Origin, by Birth, by Residence.