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Monthly Archives: June 2017


Photograph of Isioma Rachel Asiwe

She is a rose of all colors
Her cute small nose exhale diamonds.

A pretty blue African Lily
Hypnotic, sedative blue-angel.

She is a gold to hold not fold
Sweet pleasure with a good measure.

She is an African, hometown babe
Someones dish crush, everyones good wish.

Fox and honey, fine like money
She is a naugthy sweet hottie.

She is a stunner, love smasher
A patootie peach, breezy beach.

Tasty man trap, a weed to wrap
Ravish lulu, cute magician.

She is a Deltan, Ika born babe
Good head, Isioma is her name.

#1 Poetry: Stormy Smell

Oh, it’s a joy to know well,
In order to love and swell
An armpit, the wind spreads
For sense, my brain dreads;
As my tongue craves to taste
Poetry in a stormy smell…

Nigeria: Together we are stronger

No statutory backings
For a Nation like us,
To exist as an entity
Of one tribal identity.

I know we are diferrent
In tribes and in cultures
Hey, tribalism is a scar
Eating up what we have.

Together we are large,
Largest in the region.
Straigten your lower lips
That shows red sadness.

Why choose to be a killer
When you cann’t create life
We are like a bunch of sticks
Together we are stronger.

I know our wine is misused,
Referendums and dialogues
Are our very best solutions
Together we are stronger.

Nigeria: Tribalism

Tribalism is an identity
Resulting to nepotism
And a great animosity.

Tribalism is an identity
Of no statutory backings
Denting my nationality,

From existing as an entity
Resulting to conflicts
And the death of humanity.

Tribalism is an identity
A scar on nationalism
Degrading our community.

Nigeria: Dialogue

The Igbo tribe is a bight
Larger than the wildest bay

The Hausa tribe is a bight
Wilder than the largest gulf,

The Yoruba’s are also a bight
Deeper than the deepest depth.

There are other tribes in dark
Clamoring for a torch of light.

Why engage in a bloody fight
When it is not solely right.

We are of several statutory parts
Dried and hot, warming paths,

Of the coastline and River lives;
But the militants are talking knives. 

Oil boom has its twist and turns
Diversity slams a bight of elbows

Economically, broken are our jaws
Inciting war of uncommon laws.

I understand you are bothered
About broken promises altered

Hey come sit around the fire
Let’s make of sticks a broom desire.

Note, for this coast to be stronger
Dialogue is all we need, my brother.

Nigeria: Nepotism

We are not yet a centuary old
Though we are Africa’s flagship

Our flagpole is a broken horn
Dirty degrading, raged and torn.

Its fabric is a rag of a torn hope
Lost in a trench of a challenger deep.

Have in mind, challenges are but;
A good propeller to heights and great.

Great is a Nation, that stand tall
Against tribalism and apocalyptic fall.

We don’t need calls to fall the trees
Of nepotism, rooted in our homes.

Nepotism is a man of few capacities
Positioned in by his blood relatives,

Relatively dimming the opportunities
Of the very most qualified abilities.

Mostly, nepotism is a hug and shake
That will hardly give but often take.

Nigeria: Optimism

Let’s talk about teas and tell tales;
Waving a flag that was once great,

In optimism, let’s sow sweet seeds
And regain assurance of a lost faith.

Don’t despise our mother sands
Rock of ages will make us great.

Let’s be optimistic for better days
While we remodel our falling tent.

Have in mind, we are but relatives
Harbourers of two green and white.

Let’s talk about teas and tell tales;
Waving a flag that was once great.

Tragedy of Jon and Mel

Room quiet as a graveyard
Clock ticking in loud sound
Even the water from the taps
Drop echoing reoccurrences.

Jon was caught up in a mood
To cuddle someone he adores;
Mel was his floor and flood
Queen of his heart, he applauds.

The windy weather was wet
Honey cold and cozy he felt;
He drove to a pharmacy store
Procured pills for fun not flaw.

Zooming in the counts of five,
He got back home early alive
Dinner, his flat stomach wish
To eat, so he prepared a dish.

Bunch of roses Mel had got
Last two fridays, that just past
Added a romantic fragrance
To a song playing background.

Ecstasies grew, on the phone
He reminded her of the plan;
She jeered in reassurance
She will be home, hot by six.

Reclining, stretching pills
He drank in anticipations
Singing and lighting candles,
Dressing the kingsize bed.

Few hours after, he redialled
her number, at the other end
of the telephone, Mel ran into
a van and didn’t make it through.

Tick… tick; time ran so fast
In foil, Jon waited for hours
With several swallowed pills
All night long, by the bluebells.

Wax of Existence

Photograph of Kendrick Lemar

Existence is a dark room
Whose entity needs a light

To spark away the nights
And for a continuity of life.

It is about sustaining the light
With lots of prestigious fights

Every second a wax is lost
To the verge of the darkest dark.

Existance is like a burning wax
Above its head is fire thread

That shows it the way to trend
And melts its wax down to ground.

Existence breath is but a light
That gradually dims it shine

Every second a wax is lost
Fading into the darkest dark.

For continuity of an entity
Unto a new candle wax is where

It’s meant to transfer its light
Else, existance shall be a myth.

Evil Queen

Photograph of Ruth I.

She is on no one’s team
She just loves to win
Taking crowns from every queen.

She is a rare pretty thing
Single and mingle have seen
Her as a voracious evil queen.

She loves it white not green
Swinging as a reddish queen
Over tough trees, wild or preen.

Sweet seductive and clean
She has this royal theme,
All hail Her Majesty the queen.

Take not your white dove
To her large noble enclave
Else it turns meat on her stove.

She goes on night and day
So don’t you ever get on her way
Love is for all to loss and to win.

Eternity to share side by side
Emotions to her shouldn’t hide
People say she is tender and blind.

It started before the tween
In time she always meet a twin
Who loves her deeply as an evil queen.

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