Dear head,
The winner of the country’s bread
I am a seed of Africa; a denounced street child
The manifestation of my vanguard’s greed

Blessed with the beauty of Nature
Where rests the beauty of Africa?

Dear Minister,
Her beauty is sacred to be wrapped in extortion
Why threaten her with your gross corruption?
The chronic disease; reciprocal to generation

I wonder if your seat is clean
For no man seated leaves a record clean!

Dear retinue,
When is the resurrection of Africa due?
Keep the toil of our forefathers a divine clue
The wrong steps by the leaders must warn you

Oh my motherland, you never can be accursed!
Patriotic black child, heal Africa; heal the world!

Copyright Aboagye Joseph © 2019

HUNTER – By Emeghara Collins



Silently, the
hunter hid…

Then go on and
positioned his gun…

Like a sniper
he held his breath…

And aimed so hard
with drop of blood…

Sadly, the bird
became a vulture…

And vultures, are
not might for bread…

But now, an
eagle is perching…

Go on and spill
your bullet o hunter…

Come, let
me show you…

That bird, is
perching good…

Go on and
reach the trigger?

Let your rifle
speak o hunter…

To shoot a bird is
to build for the poor…

To shoot at
that bird…

Is to support
a dying child…

That bird you so
search, is positioned…

Hit your target
o hunter…

To hit a target is to
become compassionate…

To pull your bullet is
to become affectionate…

That bird is
perch right…

Stop aiming, for
you’ve aimed enough…

Let your bullet
speak o hunter…

To drum your gun
is to leave a footprint…

In the school we must
build for the poor child…

Your gun has
slept enough…

Let it sound so loud
for that child unborn…

To know that
you lived your time…

it’s true…


All copyrights reserved
Emeghara Collins
For Every child
May 2nd

The Glory Of Madness – By J.C Bertrand

The glory of madness


The glory of madness
The building frame, all
About gathering every
Pixel, skillfully spreading fire
Programmable images
Vulnerable, heavy thunder
Disordered dance, o, birds
The flames escalating
Gazed at the mountains
The valleys, only tears
In clouds night sky, the stars
Wondering about tomorrow
Will the sun, the rain, the river
The flowers, the essence of life
Blowing kisses like butterflies
Will I sing and dance with glee
Homo-sapiens steps, treacherous
The gestures, senseless wind
Unholy faces, o, humankind
Will the wind be at the festival
Luminous stars craving to dance

Jean C Bertrand




Knowledge is a seed…
Place upon the table of life…
How it is perceived is totally based upon the individual, as it is a root, that will be implanted into the deepest parts of the celebral cortex & will manifest itself into a life that may or may not be feed or grow into a great notion…

Yet… The beautiful thing about the seed of knowledge is, seeds are everywhere & already within ourselves!!!
Some are born prevalent with this skill, some are predominant & powerful with thoughts that were concocted by themselves, therefore living within a self pathological paradox…

This seed is a very powerful key to life & prosperity, how wars are started as the same time peace is waged…
Great & grand designs of & in life are constructed…

All from the ground up…
From a spark of thoughts & ideas…
Into a flare of self impulse & temptations…
Lies the truth light of it own reality & how it will be manifested into what it may…
Within a flash of a nanosecond & quick flash of light…Births this seed called knowledge.

written by Timothy Payton

A Poem By The Incomparable NANCY NDEKE


Within, is the full and fall of all nights and days in the passage of seasons,

The highs and lows interspersed with grief and grace of the ravages of rushing rains,

The joys and laughter on cover page’s of the book of living daily,

Each moon glow and sun dial finely leaving an invisible imprint upon a visit,

A million hours lacing the heart with diverse songs of varied tempos and tones,

A rocky patch and a wet slope each with its stamp to led,

Seasons reside within us and to see history of a soul look beyond the dress and smile,

The eye cannot be trained to lie like a flower cannot be trained to be ugly,

Let’s walk the seasons with less grudge and more gratitude for seasons are fleeting breeze on our collective breaths,

For ours is the now tomorrow is a dream never very sure.

Nancy Ndeke.
@ April 2019.

ACCEPTANCE – By Ian Wilcox



I said that had found love
You inquired if with you
I said I’d run two Marathons
You replied a step will do

I am so different from what you’d seen
You laughed and did agree
Then replied with smile wide
That’s why you chose me

The person stood in front of other
Some views did disagree
Rather than making it an issue
An acceptance they did see

The people were so sick of fighting
Too many dear ones lost
Pushing the elected government
To weigh up the real cost

The number cruncher chewed their pencil
Fingers tapping keys
‘Loss leaders’ the solution
For some Book to please

I said to you that I’d move there
Rather than you coming here
For you had too much to lose
With Family you hold dear

We are now in a challenge
One which we will beat
I am coming back to you
Even if by my own feet

Ian Wilcox