Author: Unknown
If God were to bring me flowers,
I know it would be you.
If I were to see the future,
I would look in your eyes.
In your eyes,
I can see virgin hopes,
Rumours of dawn,
Bright and white,
Like a Cherub,
Tender like the infant,
I see two kids playing.
In your eyes,
I can see Agape,
Sincerely so sincere,
Distant yet real,
Like pictures from unslept dreams.
In your eyes,
I see the world
Through a fruit wine bottle.
I see all’s rosy not rusty,
Sunshine not dusty.
In your eyes so tender and soft,
Love has a new meaning.
I see the dream I once dreamt
The picture I saw when I slept.
In your eyes,
I see the blue of the rivers,
And the glitter of the evening stars.
I see nature in blossom,
In your eyes of constellations.
In your eyes so pure,
I see everyday become a honeymoon.
For the happily ever after
Doesn’t only dwell in fairytales,
For I see it in your eyes.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
A description.
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Author: Unknown
“I do not think there are gods,
To whom we make our solemn prostrations”.
This I said, years ago.
Under an angry afternoon.
While the hot sun gazed
down at me indifferent.
I thought about Alokoko,
Of whom our culture speaks;
Sango, Amadioha,Aloshiaraen,
Said to be made by mere craftsmen.
I wondered,
If Ogun has a heart,
Then it is iron.
And Olokun,
A brain made of pounded yam.
And If Alokoko has blood,
Then it is palm oil.
But I still pondered,
If there are no gods,
Who cries while there are flames?
Talks in the rushing of waters,
Whispers in the wind and
Who carries man into the land of the dead?
Still in profound thoughts,
Echoes of black history,
Struck my naked heart,
Resounding these words,
“The Elephant that tries to climb
The paw-paw tree,
Has been drinking too much palm wine”.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
I find it hard to agree with westerners and their religions that chide Africa that the God we worship is a God with a small letter 'g'.
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Author: Unknown
Not a woman
who sleeps in the cathedral
from sunrise to sunset,
making the holy writ her pillow.
Far from it!
Not a woman
who veils her entire body
from her crown to her feet,
praying five times daily.
Far from it!
Not a woman
who with the weirdest ecstasy
with beads round her ankles,
dances the ballet of Olokun.
Far from it!
Not a fanatic.
Not a heretic.
Not a lunatic.
The woman I should take
is a virtuous wife;
who, beyond creed and deed,
has a gold-heart full of truth,
hands full of diligence,
eyes full of compassion,
and a mouth full of wisdom.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
My idea of the woman I want to marry.
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Author: Unknown
Hey! Look!
Over there!
My friend lies in rubble;
My most miserly friend!
In tears he sings “Arise O Compatriots”.
Such foolhardy feeble friend
From my crippled country;
He claps and dances
When a thunderbolt strikes him;
He seals his lips tightly
When he’s led to the abattoir;
He sings a Lullaby
When his father is killed;
He smiles, suffering,
He laughs, languishing;
He’s dumb in the face of tyranny.
See him, yonder!
My friend lies in rubble.
My most miserly friend!
In tears he sings “Arise O Compatriots”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
This poem is dedicated to my fellow Nigerians. Nigeria is the world's sixth largest producer of petroleum (oil/gasoline) yet its people are poor and hungry because of corruption of its leadership. At the same time she exports her crude abroad and imports the refined products and sells to its citizens at the same prices, sometimes higher, that non-oil producing nations, despite the fact that the nation has several capable local refineries. The painful fact about this is that despite the man-made poverty in the land, the peoople do not attack their problems in practical ways, majority of the people are hoodwinked into believing that the devil or some witchcraft, by their neigbour, is the souce of their mishap - so they easily throng to religion hoping to find the opium for their 'troubled' souls. I dedicate this poem to inform my fellow Nigerians at home and in the Diaspora that solution to a man's problem does not come from abroad or above, it comes from within - a will to see a change. The national anthem of Nigeria starts with the words 'Arise O Compatriots'.
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Author: Unknown
What are you looking at?
I am talking to you Delta,
And to you, Nigeria,
Not left out is Africa.
Why the differences?
Why the bloody scenes?
Delta, stop seeing the hats
See the hearts.
Nigeria, forget the tribes
And focus on lives.
Africa, forget he or she is white,
We all have a right.
Commit these words to memory,
They are for us all;
The hat, the tribe and the colour
Speak no peace but war.
But the heart speaks of love.
Our common enemy is not Tutsi or Huti
Our enemy is poverty.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
I want Africa to stop fighting wars and start building bridges.
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Author: Unknown
O God!
Why did you make the hands so slow
and the thoughts so swift?
How can these poor hands
capture the whole of it?
How can?
Why did you not
give hands to thoughts?
So that man might lie back in his sofa
and watch the hands of his thoughts,
recreate the Garden of Eden
while he relaxes and mellows below
in the miracle of Utopia.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2009
About this poem:
This poem is a reflection of my thoughts about my life and indeed the life of most African people of talent. It is about the wonderful endowment in my life yet my inability to fully realize my immense potential. I wrote it because I was frustrated about my life at the time. (I doubt if that has changed) I know so much yet I earn so little, while in Africa. I desire to be able to change the fortunes of my country of Nigeria positively but I do not have the wherewithal to venture into politics. I think I know the solutions to the economic and social problems of Africa but I do not have the platform to effect the needed reforms or revolution. Then frustration sets it. If I did not write the poem, perhaps I would have liked it to rhyme and have a certain rhythm.
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Author: Unknown
Wholesome was that time
Of blissful serenades amidst celestial hosts,
When saintly scents filled the air,
Crystal waters kissed my feet,
Blessed bowels; eternity without wheat,
Fragrance of love pervading the atmosphere
Like incense from an ereless Eden.
Cherubs ascending softly,
Divine opulence cascading through,
Immortals brim with the holiest essence.
I lay atop a vivacious tigress
Relishing the coziness of her feline fur.
Golden trails; unrivalled scenario of beauty,
Valleys littered with dazzling diamonds,
A place so pacific,
Freedom's fortress; therein lies eternal bliss...
But suddenly, my mother screamed…
Afraid and confused; I struggled,
Kicking and crying
I came into this hellish-paradise.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2009
About this poem:
This poem is also a reflection of my life and the life of indeed all mortals. It is believed in many myths and legends across the world that pre-earth experience is blissful, especially as evidenced from the life of the foetus. It is also believed that the expectation of every foetus is that the life outside the womb represents freedom. Alas! They are fatally mistaken. Little wonder that newly born enter our world with crying. The same expectation also goes for most africans and Asians who flee their homelands in search of greener pastures in Europe and America. Sooner or later they found out that the presumed paradise was actually not as they thought. The lesson from this, it is hoped, is that man must take reponsibility for all his actions and seek to solve his problems as they arise and not to run away from them. God defends only the brave and patient - not the indolent.
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Author: Unknown
The most precious thing in life
Is life itself
You,
Are my life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
A description of the woman I should take for a wife...
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Author: Unknown
Hook, line and sinker,
A strange song to a thinker.
Believing without a reason,
Is man’s worst treason.
Hook line and sinker,
A strange song to a thinker.
Don’t go if you don’t know,
It’s no folly to say no.
Hook line and sinker,
A strange song to a thinker.
Knowledge is made for man,
Know all if you can.
Hook, line and sinker,
What an awkward rhythm!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2009
About this poem:
I wrote this peom because I belive that there should not be a limit to the imagination of the human mind.
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Author: Unknown
Even if I said
A million more sorry
What use would that be?
Could that undo the misdeed?
Could that offer me an alibi?
Even if a million offences came
Shouldn’t a million pardons follow?
It takes more than a saint
to live a flawless life.
I am really very sorry
For all that happened.
Although sorry won’t do
But what else could one say
Except words of apology
In this circumstance.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
Dedicated to Teresa Mario Rockenstire my friend in New York, with whom i once shared something strong until an intruder came along. I wish she could offer a second chance.
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Author: Unknown
The common law is male,
Equity is female;
Each needs the other,
For justice to be in order.
The common law is lame,
Without equity’s fame;
Equity’s a piece of nonsense,
Without common law’s presence.
When the conflicts arise,
Equity should stand tall,
But upon the common law,
For both make justice rise.
The common law and equity,
What a wonderful blend!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
I wrote this poem in 2000 after I finished a course, 'Nigeria Legal System' in my second year at Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma where I read Civil Law. I found the blend of both edges of the law fascinating. This will be better understood by people who understand the legal system of the Commonwealth of Nations as well as Christians who understand what Apostle Paul meant by the Law and Grace in his epistles.
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Author: Unknown
Such a vast expanse;
Blessed but bound,
Talented but tortured…
Such a great nation,
Severed by two waters,
Knitted at the center,
Lubricated from its Sheol,
Fluent in three tongues…
Such a revered nation,
Sending emissaries
To the ends of the earth.
Such a beautiful people;
Dark, coloured and goodly,
Suffering amidst plenty,
Suffering but smiling,
Languishing but laughing.
Such a beloved nation,
A towering giant, so immense,
Yet still an accursed toddler
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
This poem is about Nigeria, a blessed country in terms of human, material and natural resources, yet its people wallow in abject poverty because of the bad leadership of its politicians with active conspiracy of western interests and colonialists.
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handsomest Poetry (17)