The Poet's Diary

Private Bushes

When my heart missed a beat, I could but bet I knew you; Ye in the future,

Before my art could be perfected in your gaze, nature deepened the odds,

A sweethearts is but born with toils of patched stones; a test of my grit,

I tell the story of friendship and love;

The day was ordinary, yet about my normal business- until beauty somber and calmly I beheld;

An angel; innocence conscripted in her eyes,

I looked with shy smiles, not much to say but Hi…

I dreamt yet to see and acquaint, buying time yet to save another bruise

Finally Akpors was the moment, uninhabited and homely after trickles of seemingly nothing moments

A memory engraved forever to cherish

Lips to behold, thick and quick to heal my sick

In the depth of the odds, faith is born- to pursue love and never to forget

To seek forever to gift as private brushes

Exclusive among the many to choose her; and have her choose me

It’s your birthday, and not words but love from me to you

Always, that you may have and hold, to carve and paint beauty all the days

In your eternal time’s story, I but offer a private brush!

No Label

Horn the trumpeters:

Sorry but I’m bigger than your category

Don’t worry; coz ma oratory is bigger than your imagination

I was born with my thumb dipped in ink, aww, allegory

I spew truth, my mind strong, my spirit willed, beyond your damnation

Hate if it makes you better, classify me if it makes your reality less than purgatory

But I laugh at the weak who push to find cuticle under my salvation

I see their stagnation, fixation, frustration that I consider them but chaff; transitory

My library has no catalogues, only depth of uncharted aspirations

Your flattery, negativity and backwardation but a fur of tingling sensation

I am a poet and writer by birth

Orator and motivation by vocation

I choose to be an actor and a photographer

Wait, I forgot: A banker and lawyer if I wish to be a better boring than YOU

You are not me, so don’t try to make me you!

I am a better version than all you can summon to imagine in a lifetime,

So if you are called to categorize then sorry, I bigger than you scope, ouch-

For all the people like me, who suffer from people’ typologies… you are better!

 

A Father's Chest

Horn the trumpeters:

As the poet hams of a Father's Chest.

I have found many, but you are the best

I had walked in, to pursue as a guest

But with pride, I wear your crest

Because in art's corners, you firmly hold on the pillar: Blessed!

As many will, I write to attest your wise behest

For a flowery storyteller your eternal bequest.

A chest broad yet firm

A golden cave; African lessons always to affirm

Confirmed! No germ or worm to squirm

A century your generation's term

I thrum as a master poet

Jazzed by your wisdom's strum

With word's I labour as my ink pours on 'Whytology'

I perform my art in parade of your third score

God to praise for His gift

A father who the rifted soul swiftly to drift

Toward prudence's gardens your dishes lift

We kiss your chest to insist our love

I speak of treasure's chest: your wisdom's list

But for the sister's sake, your bosom still to press

All yet a chest to hold and say:

A father's chest in you God has blessed.

I am but a LOVER

It was in the silent lobes of my ears,
Whiles still behind my wheels,
My mind in sombre pursuits,
Struck by a bolt of brightness!
A thunder! tendered my reflection and pierced my thoughts,
A lighting of knowledge had struck-
And on my mind left its quivering seal:
That I am but a Lover.

Yea, as everybody is!
Yet, trembling my spines the truth's rumbling stroke,
 As though as a quilt but with a weight of dread,
Hurled under the torments of my mind!
Curled in loops, tormented by the loud echoes,
Twirled in tears, help now I seek-
For the quivering seal is real:
That I am but a Lover.

 The lighting flashes to tussle the dark crib:
Bound in the middle of a wilderness,
Strap on an island!
Struck with fears to kiss the memory of my isolation,
And to embrace, the rejection that the lights may offer
The pain it brings,
The joy it promises...
That I may be but a Lover.

From whom has this knowledge been sent from?
Stalking me to what end?
Flustered!
For I am without an expression,
But with joy I embrace the lighting bolt,
Yet to pursue even unto the pain of rejection,
 That one day I may find,
With hope I scream with the echoes: I am but a Lover!   



Strength

Resting in my bosom is a sacred balm
I thus have an impaired calm
For it's only from God's prepared arm
In which as a laird declare I psalms

Such balm received I to heal
When sickness to my body appeal
And sorrows my soul  wanting to deal
Soothing solace of health from God I feel
And never to regret before Him to kneel
For before Him, health's balm I meal

I thus with smiles sleep
For my balm received health to reap
Even as love's words creeps deep
And in perfect health always to grip

BEAUTY

 In darkness' Pit look I above
And an angle, behold, in my gloom's glove
Non but smiles of a dove
Caught I but in boring's steeps, dazed by beauty

Beauty, that which our sacred pens find to express
That which our souls deeply find solaces to profess
That our quests may assess;
An unending light to its success
And God's peace our sorrows to dress

In such beauty may character embrace
And with tender touch the weary to grace
That such gloom you may chase
And in heaven's doors kindly to place
The many that in your smiles find beauty as ace
 For beauty, is earth's BIRTHPLACE!!!


WHAT BEGATS LOVE?

Steam shatters my sane thoughts

In such cloud wanting I to know

What may I by such receive?

Sometimes I dream if there were

A magical pill to sip

Then I wake to know, in Love's breach it will be

My heart and soul yet search

That Love as a poet's dream I may share

With yet a pretty angel born of a mother

That we may life's course work as one

And journey along heaven's gate  

Together, Hand in hand God to greet

All as I poet, hope never to quit

And never to weaver for archery my gift from God

And the bull's eye of Love my pursuit I will claim.

Lord be My Lead

Bleak blinkers blinks blinking blanks
On my twinkle glimmering hopes
Sonorous twizzles twirls blinds
Afire sparkle to trigger down
Lost in the midst my route to hold

Lost in the wild my tears to pour
Whose hands to hold in pains pinning for sure
Aching crave for truth and pure
Prime search for noble's jeering cure
Love's quest seething froth in such to tour

But in God my course I seal
As to a sewer my house to deal
For my heart I trust Him to heal
My voice to him to hear in crouching and to kneel
That for me love to make REAL

God will come through for us

Lingering towards miseries courts

Tinkering our nobility with vile thoughts

Taunting conscience and enervated folks

All our firm grips on grace waddle

To saddle our wobbling fist till faint becomes our nub

Miseries lords with smile waiting our dukes to nab

In thus hopes sigh we breath
As fireballs anchoring with pain's smite
Holding on as clinging to the wind's chest
Yea, loneliness fangs stings  sore
To taut the woes of our youth
That we may tout our gracious pursuits

In such great sorrow; look uphill
See the most gracious come through 
That he may our fainting hand take
His arms opened with embrace of love
With clout's cleave to kiss our wounds 
And his gentle wings to carry us through the bowels of shame
To the nobility wherein we seek

He comes through for us-yea to restore us
He comes through for us-yea to lift us beyond what we see
He comes through for us, that we may in the perfection of his calling light!
He comes through for us that we may make a spoil of DARKNESS

I will Arise and Build

A trip into the reality of my own

Diving among the thorns of our peace

Said unending, yet now I know

That our surging pains paints far from our ancestry

Long winding miseries; our destruction 

Darkness to the lights; enslave

Ms on trumpets sound canvass

Affirming the lights of our own spirits

To set the pace and to direct the senses of right

I write of our sluggishly progressing p

y own compromise; tear-bidding

How sluggish our path of progress

Yet crusaderath

That we will arise and build

Piercing pain licking joy, it all may be

But the beauty to behold a builder

An honor to behold such a treasure in times as this

To be a builder I pledge my course

And commitment to such I pledge to plea

That we may witness as in history

The works of passionate builders on our ruins

I crusade that our story will be in contentment:

THAT THERE ONCE LIVED BUILDERS AMONG US!

FOR THAT I BELIEVE

Though, Gradually I may walk

Ma crawls may seem insignificant

I’m mocked at

Because ma pace is disgusting

But I’m motivated to move on

Ma mind is prepared not to quit

That I may crawl gradually to the place

I am moved by an inner strength

A certainty, a deep conviction drives me

That from deep within I know I will get there

Beyond all doubt I know I will reach ma destination

And this makes me wipe my tears

My inspiration myrrh my fears with joy

My hope gives my tears a touch of smile because I know I will get there

And for that I believe

Growth

Between the space of I and me is growth

The full measure of me is left in the hands of growth

The child is but a father of yet an unborn generation

As though nothing

As though going no where

But he is left to growth

All discoveries and full measure of revelations

Clarity from blurriness

And an unshaken gaze at truth

An uncompromising faith for the promise

And an unperturbed strength to push vision

Faith that moves mountains

All lies in a mystery cave

Awaiting growth to catch

If I desire anything, I desire to grow

For in growth they became them

In growth heirs handled as servants

Broke off the yokes and chains of slavery and lived as sons

A young elephant need not cry for its mother’s measure

But it needs a prayer of growth

A pig will only have to grow to the reality of a big snout

Though disappointing, but it had being its mouth from conception

It was only left to growth to manifest it.

Cry not for a babe, neither discourage such

For what is between their now and their tomorrow is; growth

I may be a child now, but let growth tell tomorrow

I pray to grow

For my loins groan

To find me and to live as me

That I may birth out a new generation of hope

I am only left in the hands of growth

For very soon, he will prove my purpose

In growth would I be fulfilled

For God has left me to growth

Beauty in the Bosom

Stood Clearly with Obvious Beauty
An undeniable source of life
A nipple stood on such
Savoring milk drops sweeter than the purest of incense
One cannot compare your beauty to the cinnamon
Standing in the bosom of life is such beauty
Like a pair of summer pomegranates
Or perhaps the turgid apples of winter
Such beauty that I may compare its fineness to the oil from the virgin olives
Such sweetness that I may compare its caress to the taste of a new grape wine
My mouth hold that desired pyramid
And I am opened into a fountain of peace
My hands hold the smooth rounded roes in such bosom of beauty
And I sing my rhymes unending
Behold I have tasted great beauty in a refreshing breast
Though despised and unrewarded is beautiful breast in times of turmoil
Thought as though worthless in such miseries
Yet will you forever be imagined as a cake in the bosom to soothe
And a pie under the tongue to lick
The breast of beauty has proved more essential than kids’ play kite
Kings who bear the sword and are remembered with heroic epics
From you, sup they their strength
The great hold to your beauty and fed on your strength
Thou breast of great comfort to the weary and destitute
From thee shall we always find solace and beatitudes
Never letting go a hold on you for a priceless stone of sapphire
So we fight a cause to save a breast…
We pledge Pink today
For a noble and beautiful course
Join the crew for a crown

FOR A SECURED BEAUTY TOMORROW, PLEDGE PINK TODAY

A WALK TO FIND

I have set off to know

En route to find

I ply in the piles 

To unearth a mystery not known

A hidden and national treasure

A long forgotten gem eaten by the germs

Left to be taken 

And eroded by the decay of the times

We have lived playing the games of excuses

Enjoying the fun of idleness

Relying on the ego of our pride

We sit at the table for hours sipping coffee

We let the time pass whiles our strength ebbs slowly

We forget the waters are uncharted

Our eyes are blinded 

Blinded, to seeing the miseries

The weeping of the weary, 

We do not catch a wind

Least we stretch out to wipe their cries

We glutton ourselves to fattening

With the milk of the poor

Whiles the battle still rages in the inner

We let loss our pant whiles we need truth to fight

We live unguarded our head

And soon we are slain down without life

It takes Diligence, Love and Favour to win

 And that I commit myself to!

 

Our ruins to Clean

ONE DAY
 

One day WE will soar

Like the great birds do

So will WE

WE will have no place among them

Them that crawl

But WE will oversee them

That WE may help them

Them that can fly, fly

So help US God

Strength to Soar