HERO OF THE WEEK

HERO OF THE WEEK
POET OF THE WEEK: DAN DEDIVER OBODOEFUNA . "SONNET VIII (18th April, 2013)

Wednesday 24 July 2013

WHY FEAR DEATH (BY: JOSEPH SUCCESS)

















Why fear death when life in itself is damned
Speaking evil of death when it is our final resting place
Both the rich and the poor will share
A life of fulfillment and equality
And the noble lords shall be dressed same with the pauper
Brushing shoulders as they are rushed into eternity
Of fabled damnation or eternal rest
But who cares for this life
When each day reminds you of your final succor
Death in itself

Why fear humans when you are one
Standing on two legs with tails shaped into buttocks
Terrorizing creatures so far named animals
Using them for meat while condemning their tastes
Caring not if they have souls for reckoning
Giving them no chance to repent of their animistic sins
What happens if their blood should cry against you
And your fellow two feet standing humans eats you
Sharing your body parts over a camp fire
While in death you termed them cannibals
Forgetting that you once preyed on four footed animals

Why marry when you can leave alone
Doing things the way you want
Priding yourself as the lord of your decisions
Lying on the bed with a self fulfilled smile
Yet loneliness still creeps to your heart
Which neither prostitutes nor masturbation can take off
A partner being the ideal solution
Coming into your life and turning it around
Complaints the order of your peaceful day
But who are you to say anything
Your life is no longer yours
Wait patiently for death to make you fulfilled

Why fear death when life in itself is damned
And the only hope rest in a keg of palm-wine
Drown that fear and face life headlong
Making necessity the father of your inventions
For death is the continuation of life in silence.


WRITTEN BY:  JOSEPH SUCCESS
EDITED BY: Moses S. Olarotimi

Author's Info: PROFILE

                                                           
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Tuesday 16 July 2013

TRUE FRIENDSHIP (by OYEM GARY EMEKE)




















I sit here today, thinking
of dreams we've had, and days gone by
Wondering if my world would be so beautiful
if I hadn't looked into your lovely eyes


Spent all dawn thinking of the merriment we've had
  sitedunder thy glowy shades
as the chilling west-wind
whistled past


A great companion you are
even when the lake seemed gloomy
your beauty kept us company
majestic and serene
juicy as the fairest of maiden's breast
your gaze ruptures d hardest of hearts n embrace, a guide through the
loneliness of night..


A companion you've been
my only dual guide
my mentor, and
waitful friend.


Written By: OYEM GARY EMEKE (NEGRO)
Edited by; Moses S. Olarotimi



Author's Info: PROFILE








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PLAY STATION 7; MY NATION (by YUSSUF QOYUM OLATUNDE)
















Isn't God the game owner?

He holds the game pads always in his fist,

human shock-wave, controlling with analogue,

as far as I know, the best arcade he loves is 'Here',

our game is of mission and adventure,

here is where fiction turns fact,

game characters suffer; the player being fatter.

  The first pad lies in the hand of enlightenment,

civilization almost spree our lives for free,

it controls our step, its praises we yel'd,

in the game menu looms helping object,

the likes with which it splits our milk,

customs and inventions,
fashion and lifestyle,

objects at helping plane,
hence it blocks our way,

yet we seeketh for;we pray.

  The twin pad lies in the hand of the rulers,

ruling in dimension, controlling different mission,

they purport us to make believeth their moves,

jilted-we were miscontrol'd, after our support,

nearly damage were the pads, out of misuse,

after lifelines were wasted, they go for a re-do,

we only beseech for control,
by the Holy Comptroller;

the game owner.

  The game plan is a way to success drive;
through the controller,

on the drivers seat; their you are,

deliver us from our horrible past.

  On the northern pole of the game planet,

hides a bunch of nitwit exchanging pads,

behind them were gross of followers,

 ready to take over,

a dreadful arcade they engulfs,

 spiritually engross'd,

explosives were project'd to monasteries,

cult scholars were kill'd,

underworld gates wide open,

free passageway,

people strive to defy,

heavenly rays shone,
appear'd in beams,

characters hate the realm,

comptrollers were laughing and popping,

the control'd were weeping,

their legs were tired,
eyes swollen,

after losing main amulet,

even limited game features,

left to meagre diets,
light off please,

quickly; rapture.

  Hail the hybrid players of the south and oily poles,

atleast they did a great deal,

money vault of the planet,

or we station'd our bank in their purse,

they griev'd, cried;

Our habitat were like toilet,

we've been cheat'd',

heaven was promised to them,

then their controllers disconnect'd,

believe me, they regroup'd,

purchased a wireless pad,

they drive'd from afar,

setting our plans apart.

  See the amperage of our electric game,

watch the screen;

many with pails of wails,

half fill'd; holy shit!

Their game plan is on demo; no controller,

wandering till I might call,
solely solitude,

needn't you to wisen up;
apply aptitude.

  Ample proofs witness'd our gluttony,

we held different controller, direct our game,

yet many surburban brats loot away our fame,

fear shall be mortgaged for courage,

whilst dream encouraged,

inferiority shall depart the coward,

before the game is OVER.


By: YUSSUF QOYUM OLATUNDE
Edited by: Moses S. Olarotimi

Name: Yussuf Qoyum Olatunde,
Nickname: Multiintrinsic,
Pen name: Wizard Calidad,
D.O.B: October 24,
Mobile No: 08073596948,

Author's Info: PROFILE




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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the written permission of the publishers.
 

Friday 12 July 2013

ANOTHER LOVE SONG by UTAMAZI DANIEL















In you,
i see a virgin land
so fertile and pure

in you,
i see the wealth of Africa
the perfection of Gods' hand
gleaming in earthly saint

in you,
I'll sow my seed
I'll give it light
I'll give it life
and weed it weeds
at night or day

I'll carry your heart
and sit on the pavement of love
to watch my seed grow
to watch it sun glow

it fence shall be made of rose
as in heaven's eye they'll pose
spraying across dales and mountains
like grains
In you
my black gold
I'll sow my seed
in your virgin land
I'll brew my kind.

Written By:                UTAMAZI DANIEL ( armour )
Edited by:                  Moses S. Olarotimi



                                                          All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the written permission of the publishers.

Monday 1 July 2013

RAPED AND RIPPED (By: Nnaemeka Chukwukezie)



 
 
 
 
 
  Almost prepared, we came
Fervent, willing, young
At last, Almost impaired
Raped, ravished, torn
A scorn for tale

Waterloo of tears
Such gain fall vain
Pants drenched of blood
Surely, the stronger was met
On leaving, Scathed were we

Yet we sang
Not of victory, rather patriotic
We were received
Not of triumph, rather ovation
Our lights, shinning dark




 By: NNAEMEKA CHUKWUKEZIE
Edited by: Moses S. Olarotimi

Authors Info: PROFILE


                                                     




                                                       All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the written permission of the publishers.