TO MY YOUNGER SELF By Samuella Conteh

“To My Younger Self”

A grinding halt on this journey
There’s you always in a hurry
Building castles in fantasies
Hands out to reach the skies
To hide away your dream nest
Hoping to hatch golden rays
You got only a bundle of reeds

Young lady, yours is a naive heart
Selling low your sense of worth
To some without worthiness
Run, run, run, while you still can
Run away from all those leeches
Or they will feed on your blood
And leave you worse for dead

Girl, weaken not on every song
Some strum deceptive chords
Warm not all to your homeliness
For some lining up for your drink
Would throw spittle on your face
Some feeding fat from your toils
Would toss excreta in your path

Girl, drive not yourself so hard
Taking on promises like projects
Toiling hard for great outcomes
Binding tight your entitlements
To ventures with unclear terms
Keep your possessions and self
For one more deserving – you

Samuella Conteh @Copyright Reserved

IF EVE…By Jonathan A. Samson

IF EVE…

My thoughts:
If Eve had not over gazed,
If she had remained mute,
Like just a lifeless substance,
If she knew what was called nemesis.

She would have kept mute,
And not be a garrulous parrot,
If only she had stayed dead in talks,
And not examined her vocal prowess,
If she was schooled by Adam ‘bout law.

If Eve had stuck to her rib,
And not act as a remote control,
Trying to reach Him from afar.
If she had remained dead silent,
Loquaciousness would have flunked.

She would have remained clean,
Like the fresh stainless eatery plates.
She would have shamed the serpent,
emissary of great Lucifer,
Only then, she would have been a victor.

But, “shame it was”,
The heritage she sowed in our big bellies,
She bought us joyful desertification.
Banished beings; dust eating dust,
‘Thorns and thistle’, became our Salad.

She ate grapes, we languish in pains,
Dust-Sapiens; innocent convicts of the law,
We erode like the boulders of erosion.
But then, I concluded;
“Even if Eve kept mute,
the soils beckons still.”

—Hexcel_Nathan

BE MY: By Salami Haleemah Temitope

Be my sunshine:
Engulf my life
With rays of ecstasy,
And banish the aura of gloom.

Be my flower:
Make my life bloom
And adorned with dazzling beauty,
Like peach blossoms on a spring morn.

Be my star:
A suiting partner
For the clouds at night, and
Shower my life with luminance.

Be my honey:
Sprinkle sweetness into my heart;
Let me revel like the carefree birds
Living each day like eternity.

Build my life
With the foundation of trust;
Enclose it with walls of love.
Paint it with colors of hope
Roof it with joy
Dazzling to the sight.

Hold me in your arms;
Pamper me like a child
Who finds solace in mother’s bosom
After a weary long parting.

Be my partner:
Hand in hand,
We will walk
Through plains and thorns
Together we will conquer
The battles of life.

#limalami

SÀNGÓ OÒÒ!!! By Unique Deborah

Date:16-01-21
Genre: Poetry
Style: Trado-poetry
Theme: myth, traditions, eulogy
Topic: SÀNGÓ OÒÒ!!!

Many have heard of his name before
Sàngó, the Yoruba mythological god of thunder;
The igneous son of Obàtálá,
A touch on him let loose a fuming fire.

A warrior he is who maneuvered with human skulls
And led his forefathers to the battlefield;
Using the power of lightening and thunder,
He caused their foes to lick his feet
And he served their blood to his matchete skills.

Sàngó bluffs around with his slogan:
“Eni àì jírí ai jíkò” –
He who kills but remains unkilled;
His eyes burns red and his mouth sprouts fire;
He expressed his violence even on his beloved
As they both turned into the roaring river- Òsun and Oba.

The sonorous àlùjó from the Bàtá drum
Acclaims the arrival of Sàngó- wizard of the wizards;
The stick rekindles his flame in pride
The beat gallantly lures him into dancing.

My ibo brothers call him Amadioha,
The one who claps after the display of thunderstorm- Oya;
His rage burns hotter than the melt of the sun.

Should I go on as I embrace the spirit of Sàngó?
Or has civilization fully stolen away the aura of the mythical idol?

© Unique Deborah

HER LUNGS CAN TELL by Peter Spark Jackson

HER LUNGS CAN TELL

And now her lungs can tell how sweet,
Or chill, the spring of inner peace can be
Of she was a seeker, in this purity called
Self-love, yet she drinks from it’s fountain.

For her broken ceramics of affections
Had lost its fragments to the storm
The pot that cried, Oozed her gutsy tears
She yearned, but no one cuddled her quest

Her pride that now harboures Emeralds
Encapsulated the rare beauty of her prime
As she drenched her sad-lovely memories
In this falling miracles of her drizzle glees

And now her lungs can tell how sweet
Or chill, the spring of inner peace can be
Of she was a drifter in this wonderment
Called self-love, yet she feels her worth
And the uniqueness of her kind.

®Peter Spark
©Amazing poet
16/01/2021
Photo credited by Ovilens Shots

VOWS WE MADE By Omoniyi Owosoro

VOWS WE MADEYou told me forever
But it never rivers
Consciously the minute past
Waiting for your calls

You promised
Never let the dark takes it all
Now, pains forms it all
My heart is quenched by the swords
Pierced through my eyes, in tears.
Remember the red wine we drank
Gushing out from our veins
To make our love grow firm
And never to fade away,
Promised never to let go.
Not even the waves of death
Neither the roar of the thunder
Nor the flames that burn
Or the storms that takes away chances
But you never did promised
Till vespers you failed love.

©️John nick 📚🖊

TRY A LITTLE KINDNESS By Vince Alexus

TRY A LITTLE KINDNESSHave you seen someone lost?
Reach out in love it’s free of costIs somebody out there hungry?
Reach out and feed
To fulfill that soul’s needIs somebody feeling cold?
Reach out with warmthRandom acts of kindness
Do not cost a penny or a dime
But brings much joy & gladnessIs somebody feeling lonely?
Running helter-skelter?
Reach out, comfort offer shelterIs somebody bereft of love?
Reach out say I love youPut a smile on someone’s face
Reach out hug or embrace
Such acts of love & kindness
Revive make a person aliveJust your tender touch
Can heal, mean so much
© All Rights Reserved
~ Alexus
Pic credits: http://wildfire2003.deviantart.com/art/Golden-Fae-132993699

EVE IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN By Vince Alexus

EVE IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN

At the dawn of creation
Where there was no nation
God created Adam and Eve
There existed only love,
That was from God above

God placed them in the Garden of Eden
A paradise for Adam and his maiden
His beautiful wife Eve
God said go forth and multiply
If you eat of the forbidden tree
You’ll surely be condemned to die

Therefore do not disobey,
My commandments children
Do not be deceived nor sin
But Satan found a way

The wicked devil,
So full of evil,
Caused Eve to eat
The forbidden fruit
And distorted the truth

Eve in turn lead Adam to sin,
The blame game entered in
Both had to cover their nakedness
and hid when God called out

As a result they were banished,
From paradise
Due to the devil’s lies,
Never again to experience
Peace serenity in their lives
Once at the heart of paradise

Even till today when man ogles woman
It is commonly known as Eve teasing
Utterly distasteful displeasing
As the disobedience of the first woman
God created as companion to man

© All Rights Reserved
Based on The Holy Bible
~ Alexus
Pic credits Pinterest

To my Beautiful Nubian Goddess…By Cynthia Gentile (Queen of Light)

To my Beautiful Nubian Goddess…

“To my sweet wild woman, I know why it hasn’t worked out with anyone else—you don’t need a man, but a goddamn warrior.”

You are the strength of Turkish coffee at sunrise darling and don’t try to pretend that you’re not.

You are one of the wild ones, and no matter how you tried to hide that fact, you can’t be anything other than what you are—and that’s okay. You are just as you are supposed to be, magnificently wild in all of your chaotic beauty.

I know you’ve had your heart broken and I know that you don’t understand why it always seems to never work out, but I’ve finally figured it out:

You don’t need a man, you need a goddamn warrior.

It doesn’t matter if this warrior drives a Jeep or a shiny sports car, and it won’t matter if he wears silk or cotton—it will not even matter if he works in a high-rise, or on the night shift.

What is going to matter is that when it comes to taking bets on your heart, he is going to be high stakes—all the way.

This warrior of yours will crave your strength, and your intensity. He’s going to look at you and not see something to tame, but something to just fuckin’ admire. This warrior of yours won’t be someone that you can manipulate or play with as you have in the past, so honey, don’t even try—and trust me, you’re going to love him even more because of it.

Because you aren’t just a woman, you’re a goddamn goddess.

Your fierceness is going to bring him to his knees every single time he looks into your gorgeous eyes, but the difference is, unlike the others, he isn’t going to be scared off. No, this time, you will have finally met your match—because a simple man for you just won’t do.

You need someone to match the fire in your eyes with his own. Not only that, my little wild thing, but this warrior of yours is going to want to encourage the flames instead of trying to douse them with his own insecurities.

Because for you, a warrior is the only man who will ever live in the wild with you.

He may not have to slay any dragons to earn your love, but he would still walk through fire if it meant seeing that amazing smile that you hold in reserve for only him.

This is the thing, free spirit, this warrior you seek….he’s seeking you too.

For he’s had failed relationships that have left him wondering if maybe he was meant to be alone for the rest of his journey—and you’re going to change all of that for him. You both have been travelling along on your separate journeys and have been doing an okay job at it, but that about to change too.

Because baby, when you and this warrior of yours meet and collide—it’s going to be a love set on fire.

Don’t try to run this time—I know your heart has been broken before, and that you’re not used to things working out, but this time it’s different. Give yourself time to see that.

This warrior of yours needs to see that it’s possible for someone to see all of his wild, and still be there when he craves his freedom and ventures off into this world for a bit. You won’t always need to follow him, just as he won’t always follow you. Let yourself stay wild, even when all you want to do is curl up in that spot along his side and forget the rest of the world exists.

Let yourself still wander naked under the full moon, and drink moonshine with the stars. Let yourself feel the pull of the wind on your heart, and the sun toward a new journey. Because this warrior is going to love you because of your wild—and he’ll want you to keep it.

You’ll be in this together now, this amazing, crazy, chaotic, wonderfully heartbreaking life—because it takes a warrior to love a goddess. And it takes a goddess to show a warrior what real love is.

So pack up your insecurities and your ideas about picket fences, because that was never you anyway. You were born knowing that you were destined for more, and now is the time for you to see what all those dreams look like.

There is no stopping a love like this, so promise me you’ll hold out just a little bit longer.

Have a little bit of hope, and always give love just one more try, because I promise you my sweet wild woman—the love that you seek is seeking you as well.

Your King.. xxx

Stay In The Light

2021 All Rights Reserved
#CynthiaGentile
#QueenOfLight
#StayInTheLight

THE LAW AS AN ASS By William Warigon

THE LAW AS AN ASS

THE LAW AS AN ASS

The law walks with pride,
His arrogant spine as strong as steel.
He derides Justice’s hide
For being as soft as an Achille’s heel.

The law, rigid as a turgid tool
That has no conscience of its own
Find home in the depth of a fool
And breaks his black, buffalo horn.

When the law twerks to annoy the innocent,
A mere technically scales with scales
Above the fence of reason a good mind vents.
The unlearned caught in doubt’s gales

“Ignorantia juris, non excusat” blared
With trumpets of the strumpet.
Here, an ass bare his ass in cleared
In webs of an obsolete gauntlet.

Thanks to the heavens, justice sits with stately grace
To right the wrongs of the law’s wrong rightfulness.
Where the ass of the law upon a white lace delays,
Justice will up her ante and prove her consistent rightness.

©️ William Warigon ™️

The Flame By Wayne Olson

THE FLAME

THE FLAME
He was drawn by her warmth and light
That being near felt good and right
Her glow spoke of all there was to know
His latent fate to be accepted, his pyre

Her flame would dance and sway each time
Hopelessly lost in the music of his wings
The one who made her burn brightest
In a sudden gust, on the darkest of nights

She loved him in the only way she could
Not letting him near, lest he be seared
To live the curse of what could never be
“For if he die, I too”.

-Wayne Olson

HOW CAN I EXPLAIN By Mirii Miryam

HOW CAN I EXPLAIN!

How can I explan
How much I love you!
You’ re away now
And here I am , living my life looking at the sun,
The rain, the stars and the shinny moon.

I wait for you to tell certain things
And I know you ‘re there to listen
I know my words always comes from you.

Festivals are going without you
What we celebrated together, stay inside me
And I love you now more than before
Everything works with you.
With you everything works quickly
You who create and shape our lives.

And I did my best to keep it
Thank you for exsisting in my life even though you are not here physically
My love for you always lives inside me.

Copyright@MM..15 .1. 2021.

Who Am I By Virginia Subia

WHO AM I

When I think of how
He came so far from glory
Came to dwell among the lowly such as I
To suffer shame and such disgrace
On Mt Calvary take my place
Then I ask myself this question
Who Am I

Who Am I
That the King would bleed and die for
Who Am I that He would pray not my will, Thy Lord
The answer I may ever know
Why He ever loved me so
But to that old rugged cross
He”ll go for
Who Am I

When I’m reminded of His words
I will leave Him never
If I’ll be true, He’ll give me life forever
Oh I wonder what could I have done
To deserve GOD’S only Son
To fight my battles until they’re won
For who Am I

Who Am I
Out of millions
Summoned and me chosen
Who Am I
Begot me and heir of Thy salvation
For it become His, by whom are all things
In bringing many Sons unto glory
For this Thy name I’ll declare
My praises unto Thee
Which Thou has given me.

Vgrsubia
All rights reserved
8/19/20

NOW THAT THE BATTLE IS OVER By William Warigon

NOW THAT THE BATTLE IS OVER

Remove your sackcloths
And make moves to rebrand the present
You’re a warrior that floats
Triumphantly on victory’s cloud pleasant

Yesterday’s heartache is now fully healed
Savour in your hard earned victory
Peal away what dark thing faith has sealed
Defeat is relegated to bin of history

A hero hailed hovers above hot hell
Never to revisit a vomit and land on zero
His sights sit on what future’ll compel
Such hero, shows strength and bravado

You have walked bare feet on live coal
Held ferocious bulls by the horns alone
You were upright, not fearing any fall
No naughty wind could have you blown

A conqueror adorned with conquests
That have left marks on your conscience
Scarred, not deterred by life’s vile tests
You walk with swag on the face of violence

Even when wounded, you licked your wound
Nothing jars your jazz or gas your mien
Time tested, deservedly you were so crowned
It is time to eat fruits of your labour,green

©William Warigon™

EYE ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH TO SEE By Tulsi Shrestha

EYE ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH TO SEE

Your eyes alone are not enough
For vision of eyes, you need light.

Interaction of eyes, brain and light
Ensures the excellence of your sight.

Dark is the state of absence of light
Intelligence is product of fruitful vision.

Knowledge carries no meaning
Until it is fertilized by wisdom.

Seeds of life remain dead like rocks
Until air and water revive them.

When reflected light of knowledge hits you
Spirit of vision emerges inside you.

Philosophy helps to transform knowledge
In favour of world peace and mankind.

By Tulsi Shrestha
Www.poemhunter. com

UNDER YOUR TUTELAGE By Prince Steve Oyebode

UNDER YOUR TUTELAGE❗
__________________________

UNDER YOUR TUTELAGE❗
__________________________

My dear beautiful and adorable mother
The very first nine months inside your belly
I have unconsciously learned many things
My safe arrival to this beautiful world
Is nothing but another best experience
I started walking in fours as a toddler

I’m fast growing now as your true replica
I’ve deciphered the womanhood in you
I can’t trade you for any choicest gold
I daily watch in admiration of your style
For you are continously showing the path
The very path of excellence I so desired

I have patiently studied this one thing in you
That, you won’t spare any rod for my sake
So I won’t become a spoilt child later in life
The little girl in me is fast growing
But this one thing I promise as your child
That I won’t ignore your wise counsel

So when I grow and become your real version
My heir can as well takes after my style
This time you may not fully witness
For you have but limited time with me
As a mortal who has no power over her time
Even though she painstakingly made the clock
Yet, she has no control over the time

©Prince Steve Oyebode
January 15th, 2020
All rights reserved ✍🏿

HYMNS OF HYMEN: By Sule Abubakar Lucky Mark

•Hymns Of Hymen•

O’ ye comely goddess of beauty,
Your poetic Prince has come to
Titillate your heart with his flute.
Shall I compare your calmness to dove’s?
You’re meeker, gentler and warmer.
Permit me journey through the Contours of your body
To unearth the mysteries within.
Let me suckle from your succulent nipples,
For the frothy milk that serves as the elixir of life.
The thirst that clasps my throat,
Only this ‘divine milk’ could quench it.

From the tip of your hair
To the shoot of your toe,
Pray, let my sedative hands tickle
the soles of your feet.
And like two lovers at the seashore,
Let me caress and canoodle your silvery cheeks.

O’ ye cute dame,
Let me serenade in your hearing.
Rub your velvety skin against mine.
Pray, let me smooch your ochre lips,
Let me fondle this satiny chin,
Let me pat this silky fur,
And let your soul be my orchard of love.

Wiggle your big, alluring hips,
Sway your bewitching buttocks,
The rhythmic flapping of your breasts,
Let it tingle my eardrums;
For it’s an ointment to my gnawing soul.

My pintle is not for ornament,
Neither is it for endless rest.
Let my pintle unearth the naturalness
of some mysteries in your thighs.
Let my ‘divine rod’ caress the soft,
wavy hair on your ‘field’;
For we can only do this while it’s day!

O’ ye cute dame,
Bring, bring your hips so nigh,
Bring those bulging buts,
Bring those titillating thighs,
Let me massage them with my doting hands,
Let me stroke them in a pristine way.
Oh! ah! ouch! Let me r-u-p-t-u-r-e,
Pray, let me rupture your delicate hymen.

Come, come closer,
Let’s speak in language of the gods.
Pray, let me thrust into your cool, soothing ‘hole’,
Let me feast the nectar on your ‘field’,
Oh, let this ‘heavenly water’ gushing
out of my ‘pipe’ pacify your soul.
Let me saturate the soft, wavy
hair on your ‘field’,
Let me water them with my ‘thick, whitish milk’,
So you can be called a woman;
For it’s what soothes our souls,
And soothes away the intricacies of life.

Sule Abubakar Lucky Mark;
15-01-2021.

Candle In The Dark By Ugomma Ezewuiro

CANDLE IN THE DARK

(A tribute to the Late Ubong King.)

Matter has alighted us.
Light shone in the darkness,but darkness.
Comprehended it not.
You came, you saw, you Conquered.

With a heavy heart and teary eyes.
Your bulb has been put off in obscurity.
“Afe ko Lo”.
So says Tope Alabi.

Like someone hit by a tornado,
I am still picking up my broken pieces,over the news of your demise.
Our hope,our faith,our pride.

The shining armor of the Nigerian youths.
Rest on true warrior,You hungered in your speeches for a better Nigeria.
Gradually coming to terms,your better half is the one of whom I speak.

She is Coming to terms, healing gradually in the arms of eternity.
A great motivator,was whom you were.
Who else can wear your shoes?
Whom can this cap fit?

Sunset at dawn.
I must run.
Good night,the knight in shining armor of the Nigerian youths.

Thank you.

(c) Oma Wuiro.

(c) Oma Wuiro.

I AM PROUD TO BE BLACK…By Sarala Balachandran

I AM PROUD TO BE BLACK …

I am proud of my black complexion with
a healthy body and sparkling eyes!
I dont care if no one wants to marry me due to my colour which is only skin deep!
I know i have a loving heart which will accommodate umpteen
number of unwanted children put in homes where they are treated mercilessly and I shed a tear or two!
I visit them with what lil I can they love me like their own mother and I feel I am blessed by God!
Many keep calling me black which I love to hear as they have not seen my golden heart!
At night I sit and gaze at the sky with hope in my heart for a better tomorrow for those children

(C) sarala Balachandran

A Poem By Welkin Siskin

There’s a time in life where things do not come in your hair, chivvy and pester, and lead you to a false road.
For in childhood, unlike other hours, you dumped
Many thing and yet you shined and rose and strode.
You came as a light in the dark closet,
And you reminded your parents how wonderful is childhood.

Where has his springtime of life lost
Beneath the

hallow of the heavens would he count his life
With agile, sprightly soul, with his blameless, in the clear heart,
He rode and rode—he knew not that which is strife.

To touch the arc of moon shone back in the
river,
To be tranced in the meaningfulness of time,
With small, yet smooth, bright, and sliver
Children car, would he play; he would make rhyme
Out of those books he would everyday read.
Keep all things under wraps, like the flickering light,
And with the vile, filthy characters, he would concede
Those times were sweet, beautiful, delightful.
And truly, without any heedfulness, you trailed through yet
Until you came to a different stage of life, boyhood.

Childhood is a year of roguish, mischievous hour
Where one discovers out of it all good and nothing sour.
As a voyage to the outer world, beauteous and sweet,
It seems you never got full of out of it.
For childhood is devoured too early
By the mouth of time, callous and worldly.

@ Welkin Siskin