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Showing posts from August, 2013

GRANDPA DICK

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Pin the man down, don't mind his pleas! Yes, pull his trouser down his knees! Didn't he do same to young Eunice? Yes, today, Justice we’ll release! Drag him naked through the streets! Let’s make his phallus girls’ eye treat! Grandfather Dick, he has no shame! Old dame and babe to him is same.

AFTER WE DESTROY MOTHER EARTH...

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Mother Earth groans as the orphans she kindly sheltered finger her cavities The second chapter of my book What Can Words Do? addresses one of the issues that bothers me a lot, maybe even as much as domestic violence and women abuse; it is the abuse of Earth, our only home. Sometimes, it seems we are deliberately harming her, just to see what the effect of the destruction would be. I see it as the ultimate suicide and I illustrated this in my one word sonnet 'Sandy Suicide'. No one is ignorant of the effects of the destruction of the environment, and we are all guilty of the same offence, fingering the cavities of Mother Earth!

LOVE, MARRIAGE & FAMILY: COLD OVENS CAN'T BAKE BREAD

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who can bake after the heat in the oven is long gone? Even the 'masterest' chef can't bake cake in an oven that has no heat. It is as impossible as turning pimples into dimples by mere wishing  (unless you wan use juju). Anyway, bottom line is that the cake wont be baked unless there is heat. Sadly, the children of these days are baked in the oven of families which are loosing heat or even frozen. Hence they come out half cooked, irresponsible men and uncultured women... 

ON KUKOGHO IRUESIRI SAMSON'S 'WHAT CAN WORDS DO’ (by Moses Opara)

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#WhatCanWordsDo? Words can bother, shape, mold, and make the mind think… It cajoles mindsets, depicting the rhythmical beauty and sounds from the throbs of African poetic culture. It comes with an outstanding style drained from the nipples of African poetry. Reading it can capture the mind [and transport one] to another realm of grasping the bitter sweet truth of life. What can words do? It has the magical powers of mending broken souls, an epistle for our hearts. The wisdom I can sniff through that anthology show's that he is coming up with a prolific collection, which will pierce through the inner chambers of any heart.

DON'T DESPISE HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

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You must first mould blocks Before you build your house And you can't go fixing locks On doors of roofless house One things I've learnt in life is "don't doubt the days of humble beginnings". I can prove the truism in those few words with many examples from my own humble life. I started my JSS1 in Ambassadors College, Ile-Ife in 137th position and finished my Senior Secondary School in God's Time College, Zaria as arguably the best student (came into the school on the day they started exams), and had the highest JAMB result in the school - 257, in those days of no expo.

GOD BLESS YOU

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You loved her Mistakes and faults Healed her many scars And emptied her hurt vaults You watered When her soil was dry Sweet words you ministered When sorrow breached her eye

CRY, BUT HARVEST YOUR TEARS

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Whenever those beady tears come Don't let them flow into earth bin For there are seeds therein Just like in penis-cum I am not a crier...at least not the town crier of some remote Anambra village, say Abagana (they still have gong beating town criers. LMAO, ask ma'am Olisakwe). Well, I did not mean that jind of crier...I meant the teary eyed crier. I hardly cry-at least not since childhood when we try to make a point, or seek attention with some mouthy wailing. In school those days, I was known for not crying. Whenever a hurt got to the point of making me cry, someone would get really injured. I was very vindictive. Make me cry or make me bleed, your a goner, no matter how big.

SCARS UNSEEN

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She smiles every time Her voice is a pleasant chime One hug for everyone Young and old, all in turn. At night, home she goes To battle with her inner foes; Pruned rose under the sun, Leftover of fist swinging John!

DANIEL S. MOSKOWITZ

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I am on my knees, praying Because I am tired of waiting To behold your words on pages Preserved forever for the coming ages Sir Daniel's wisdom tames lions And shackles corporations' minions Its unmasks the warmongering beasts I hail you and your ever swinging word-fists

I AM BLACK GOLD!

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I am Black Gold! All received a gift from His throne. A blood inked pen fashioned from bone Did one man receive in his hands; And now, with it he, rules the lands! That man is me, I am black Gold!