Poem and Article Blog

Love is what I see in your eyes, the perfect beauty radiating from those gorgeous globes, and for many seconds I cannot see anything else for all I see is the world you are.   Love is all I feel, that pleasant moments spent together in splendor every night at the park, feelings that makes time and life precious with you and horrible without you. Love is all I hear every time you call those soft words out of that mouth, they are enchanting and I could only pray you say them forever. Those words give me strength to carry on. Love is what I touch in the grips of your palm, that special touch that heals me inside and makes me better than I was. A miracles happens whenever you touch me Love is the picture I hold in front of me; I stare at this all day to see a bright tomorrow in it. It occurs to me each time that you are not part of my future, you are my future.

I read to pass, I pass to read I must shame the volumes of books Who in their almighty prowess Mock my integrated oblongata I must break their spines Turn and tore their gallant colours Empowering lanterns, embracing candles To scan and cram; to skip and keep; To the arrival of the sunlight To the takeover of the moon light Benches of libraries are my bed Piles of books, my pillows I wrestle with bloodless biros Searching depths of Einstein’s well Agreeing with the theories of Dalton Seeing through telescope of Galileo’s Having to traveling my brains ashore, for Knowledge alien to what my ancestor’s call I read, what is not my problem Cramming that which makes a hell of sense And that which is a sense of hell I must pass and pass to others Knowledge not mine; not from my mine. I must avenge this wretched letters Whose author’s idea I am forced to burrow, That which I need and most that brew

Tributes to Nigerians Who lived to fight But died at bullets sight For justice, for equity For change, for betterment Tributes to Nigerians Whose smiles suffer them And their cries are never heard Who suffers for daily bread While deep inside, they bleed Tributes to Nigerians Who wake up early to sleep late Hawking for bread, hustling in stress Working, but worked out Striving, but starved to death Tributes to Nigerians Who did not place religion above man But places man above religion Who are their brother’s keeper Who honours the difference in others Tribute to Nigerians Whose friends betrayed and colleagues dismayed In prisons and cell blocks for no offense Praying yet; yet prayed for their foes Men of valour, buried without honour Tributes to Nigerians Who saw fraudsters and liars of politicians And were brave enough to stand their feets Not corrupt by lies, not swayed by bribes Who in truths hunger, hunger to fight for truth Tributes to