Monday, December 25, 2006


The ageless sun sets
Explodes millions of tiny fragments
Littering the ancient sky
With balls of light so high

Against this background
Nature rest so profound
In drifting drowsiness I hear
The eloquence of silence in the air

Familiar Friend

*This is a poem written as a reaction to the death of the Lagos state Governorship aspirant, Engineer Funsho Williams, who was brutally murdered in his bedroom. When will Nigerians and Africans at large, learn to practise politics without bitterness?

What gloom haunts the air?
what frail mortal limbs lay?
once brimming with life so bright
now, whisked off in the cruel winds
and served in a casket on earth's table
for famished worms to feast on
as the sun mourns in deep melancholy

What beastly creature art thou
that prowls man's earthly habitation?
disguised as a familiar friend?
your morbid ambition, executed with a smile,
you cease the bread of starving lads!

O murderer! where lies your gains,
for those hearts you feed with pains?
homes, you plunge to sorrow
and flood with fiery fury
burning in their once timid heart

For this destiny you abort too soon,
awaits you on the other side!
for know this O murderer,
that man is the grave's meat!

Shiloh's Supplication

Heaven must have you favoured
to release its fairest maid in such grace
for Artemis seed, we long laboured
with ceaseless devotion to hold Natal's mace

Heaven with speed now granted
Shiloh's supplication, like a sapphire garment worn
to celebrate motherhood. Heaven again voiced,

"for unto you , a child is born,
and unto you a treasure is given"

The starless night embraces a new dawn!


The drums rolls again,
rumblings all over the land
breaking earth's nocturnal silence
with a rhythm of royalty

Ancestral nobles turn in their grave's bed
for such a rhythm is heard but once
to usher in some nobled minded fellow
for such is the rite

Children with faces plagued with hunger
peered through reed fences
their eyes glow with excitement
as they unfold the mystery behind the rumblings

The village spectators all gathered
written on their faces, a glimmer of hope
for they have waited so long for one of theirs,
once lost but now, found.

welcome home!

Monday, December 18, 2006

The Unborn Child

Tired eyes wink
As stifled dreams blink
And muzzled foetus battles

Fragile uterine wall quivers
disturbed creature quibbles
as alien object approaches

Broken chords snap
Sprawled placenta hangs
Sacred Adam, rendered homeless

His Eden desecrated
Stripped of his innocence
Virginal nakedness revealed

With one last breath
He voicelessly cried
‘I wish I was born’

His death, her pride
Tender flames, snuffed too soon
Tender seed, never to sprout!

*Below are comments that I received on this poem when it was first published on I just thought you might want to read them.

1 - 8 of 8

Vickie J
July 23
You had me close to tears on this one. I know this is such a touchy issue in today's world-but for the life of me, I will never be able to agree that it is right to steal an innocent child's life from him/her while they are in a place that should be their safe haven. I've seen too many films showing abortions in the process to be told that they don't suffer. Their skin is so thin and fragile-raw nerves unprotected-tell me yanking them apart limb by limb doesn't hurt-tell them, "this hurts me more than it hurts you"-God forgive us for the sins against the unborn who are very much alive.

I applaud this outstanding and moving write~vj

July 23
As much as I would have loved to have read this, I couldn't as it was starting to bring back those memories that I don't want. I know what it feels like to lose a child before life has started.
Welcome to the site

July 23
A very sad powerful and well worded piece here ...suits your picture choice well. Thanks for entering our contest


July 24
Oh this was absolutely phenomenal and I completely agree with your train of thought! I thought you did just a wonderful job conveying across just an important message - and the way you worded this piece was absolutely touching and brilliant!
Thank you for following the rules and entering the contest
I wish you luck and welcome you to All Poetry!


sunny day
July 26
Very well written!!!!!
This was a very powerful piece that raises the age old issue of prolife or prochoice. I don't like to be involved in that battle at all. You did a marvelous job with your take on this. Joyce

July 29
A very powerful poem that you expressed your views well. I too am a pro-life person and wonder why someone would ever want to abort such an innocent life. Well thought out poem! Good luck and welcome to AP

August 14
This was both graphic and philosophical. Lots of amazing metaphors and references. Anchored in your message like the child anchored in the womb before being removed. Best of luck.
Rayne Maker

August 14
Your words are so powerful, and so dark. I love the metaphor you used in this poem. It's a great write.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Dance of Innocence

The past like a raving wave
beats incessantly on the mind's bank
nagging thoughts from yesterday's grave,
lay siege of our anticipated tomorrow

tethered dreams, hopelessly battle
every battle, a web is spun
until we are fettered over again
by those thoughtless webs, we spun!

Who says innocence is a vice?
Let him probe the guiltless stare of babies
who giggle playfully at mother's painful writhe
after biting so hard on her tender tits!

yet, mothers still curdle them close to her heart
knowing that moment of ignorance must be forgiven
for such guiltless acts in innocence,
are the greatest show of love.

for our yesterday lurks in the corner,
waiting to snatch every moment of happiness.
when we look, we find emptiness
but the past is that trailing shadow,
that walks life's mile with us

Therefore, roll out on life's dance floor
and let us partake in the dance of innocence!
for we worry for tomorrow's music
that never may be heard
while today's rhythm waste away
and none to embrace it!

Maiden No More

She prides in the robe of innocence
Hanging down voluptuous frames
That pokes at virility
But to remain veiled
Her immortal task
For in such mask
Lies the masquerade’s pride

She the prey of distant poachers
That prowls the forest
Partitioned among themselves like coat of colours
In morbid curiousity they lust
For several moons they were lost
Fizzled in the African sun
Their treasure, her veiled nakedness

For when they found her
Wrapped in glaring innocence
A gift of lust to present
coated in colours of love
for what is love?
and what maketh lust?
the soul is the essence
the presence gratifies that sense

And with that coital resolution
once advanced to a climax
with bellows of passion
began as a glow so tender,
he treads the intricate
devoid of delicate desires
with un-bearing clamouring
rather spurred by sinful sense
he sends forth liquid mortals
leaving the ‘man below’ limb
exorcised of his emotional frailty
a glimmer in his eyes

They left us…………….
their morbid curiosity gratified
but in our heart, a wound
the African sun, never can heal

We die No More!

Tell the waiting vultures
that prowl the streets of Africa,
preying on the remains of our brothers
yanking their lifeless limbs apart!

Taking refuge in my silhouette
trailing behind wounded children,
waiting till our last breath is drawn,
and a human dinner is declared ready!

But tell the waiting vultures
that no more carcasses will litter the streets.
Our continent, no more a grave yard
where dreams are murdered, yet unborn
and visions stifled, still in its bud!

End of the World

I peered through my imagination
with eyes that could in dreams tell
of a world devoid of destruction
inscribed in my heart forever

My lonely brush dances on the smooth canvas
with each patten rippling crest after crest
until my imagination blazes a trail
a rebirth of serenity!

The moon speaks in bright palette
a language only spoken in tranquil climes
the leaves opens-up to the sun's warm embrace
a rebirth of nature!

For when this world rolls away
and our pains erased from memory lanes
then shall our long lost dream come alive
the end of the world,

... the beginning of a new world!

The African dream

Bloated bellied breeds of coloured race;
spindly, dangling frames for support;
eyes deeply sunken with no mist of hope,
laced with lashes of hunger

These are my kindreds --
frail buds of the giant Iroko tree
that fosters the tropic African forest;
now hewn down and left to rot.

Children butchered in parent-less homes
where papa nurtures aborted dreams.
Forcefully enlisted to war
against fellow brothers;
mama lays still, in a pool of blood,
sacrificed for our wishful tomorrows.

We roam the streets of Africa,
no longer terrified by death's mournful knell:
for our death lies in us
the mystery of our empty bloated bellies.

Yet, we will survive
amidst the incessant threats of penury
and the rumblings of infirmity
from one vicious cycle to another.

We wear a face, naked with hunger
and resigned to forlorn feast.
When in some distant continents,
children have enough to eat and throw away
yet, we will survive!

Tell the waiting vultures
that prowl the streets of Africa,
preying on the remains of our brothers
yanking their lifeless limbs apart, NO MORE!

Taking refuge in my silhouette
trailing behind wounded children,
waiting till their last breath is drawn,
and a human dinner is declared ready!

But tell the waiting vultures
that no more carcasses will litter the streets.
Our continent, no more a grave yard
where dreams are murdered, yet unborn
and visions stifled, still in its bud!

For our sun will rise again,
and our earth will bud,
adorned in the colours of nature.
Our barns will burst in abundance;
we will speak one language, one word, PEACE

This is the African dream.
The cause for which our fathers died.
The cause for which we WILL live!

Silent Soliloquy (Is black beautiful?)

Alive, though dead!
for though dead, yet i am alive!
accused and accursed
I am caged eternally!

Free, yet prisoned
though prisoned, yet I am free
to walk within the space
restricted by the fetters of penury!

Tethered to a stake
I can only wish for sleep
to sleep, to die
for to die, to rest eternally
from the cruel lashes of pestilence!

For if black is beautiful,
why do i suffer such shame?
and grope in endless darkness?

The traveler's gift

Navigating love’s thoughtless paths,
Like the palace fool over again.
Searching secret sanctuaries of sacred hearts,
But getting less than I bagain’d

I have stumbled on different breeds,
Of fragile mortals who spew venom
Desecrating love’s sacred creeds
For such is their norm.

Now the traveler is back,
And my travailed heart sings
For a love returned in flapping wings
But my heart, to hack!

The fragile arm of waiting lad
Outstretched with hopes for a return gift
A sinking heart to give a lift
But you chose to make them sad

You are back
With treasures on my feet, lain
Wrapped in a lurid gift of pain
My heart to crack!