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PoemsPoem The War You Could Not Win (In memory of Mallam Shekairu Agbabiaka) By Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema* When a pitcher breaks we do not despair; there are countless pitchers in the market. There is always water in the stream but when the stream dries up what shall we do? If a cloud covers the sky it matters little; the tears of heaven will be rinsed by the sun's loving hands. But when the sun mourns who will comfort her? Like Hailey's Comet you blazed the sky of our lives rarefying us with your thousand points of light. They might not have known you in the courts of the mighty but you built permanent palaces in our hearts. You might not have sat with kings but you reign forever in the souls of the children you moulded. You might not have counted dollars but your virtues spoke their weight in hundred-karat gold. Praying that God damns that day of dark tidings does me no good. It is marked by the pin of fate. The day you sccumbed like a warrior. The zest was in your eyes; the taste for God's great gift. But who can question the spinners of destiny's web? This was a war you could not win. Tigers roar and tear but in the end they fall to the hunter's gun. This tiger, the tiger of death has fallen to the gun of the Resurrection. (Mallam Agbabiaaka, a young and dynamic Islamic Religious Studies teacher, was the poet's friend) *Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema is a writer and teacher based in Lagos, Nigeria. His email address is henrykd2009@yahoo.com
----- The Woman By Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema* Women are plentiful
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The Way Destiny Goes By Shammah Sraima Hart* The way destiny goes, sometimes is difficult to understand. There is love in life,all the ups and downs seek a way through to cover up to be able to bear. To hold together what they had formed,all those years.
In various lives it becomes a habit to stay with the person Only to start a new life ,I have reached this far and so many years have passed by. What more is there to explore. But on one day my eyes become dark. As shadow passing in front of me,that I did not look back. I got a power that I can’t detect where it came from. Suddenly I wanted to run, fly, lie down and roll over. I did not want to see the night fall not to miss your shadow which has given me the reason and that the sun keeps shining for me to see it. Because of this shadow I could not look back, my ups and downs… I never did want to mention them. I don’t want to know about nothing that gives me headache. A new adventure I wanted in my life, but all the hope I had left me. I blindly follow that ghost to grasp it and make it mine, see if I can move in the direction that it moves. I thought with all my strength for him to stand and stop. But all that I did, he did not want to become one with me. He splited (?)and left me with all my new visions. He left my presence,he left and did not want to know nothing about me. With all my pain I lifted up my head and looked in front of me knowing that the shadow is not longer with me. Again I see my ups and downs come up Now I don’t understand Suddenly I did not know what it is I wanted What is the reason? Is this because I am tired of all the ups and downs? Is it fbecause of the shadow that passed in front of me? Or is it that I surely got tied? Destiny,destiny who knows how my destiny will be. *Shammah can be reached via shammah.ministrie@hotmail.com or tel. 06 24 797 411/06 43 646 788
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He Found Me! By Shammah Soraima* I was lost and nowhere to be found I was in the pit so deep that I couldn’t be reached I was so filthy, dirty and in a mess But He found me I was lost in the wilderness wanting to find my way home I was wondering to and for didn’t know where to turn I was in a state where hope was nothing for me I was at the point of no return and felt No one could reach me But He found me I was crippled by life am dots situation I was so far from where I belong My folks tried to find and bring me home But I was so dead and buried in the thumb of blindness Like Lazarus, but yet I was living Life became so lost and frustrating for me But He found me In my desperation of finding my way home I stumbled into a word held me captive I found a group whom I trusted I thought they can help me But I found my self bound in drugs I became lost just as those I thought could help me Life was meaningless I felt I should end my life But at the point of ending my life, cause all hope was gone There He found me At the points where no hands can reach There He found me For He said, His hands are not to short That He can’t reach me It is just somebody that came on my way and told me That Jesus loves me He found me brought me home to places flowing with milk and honey To places of abundance and of life Now I’m found and found indeed Because Jesus found me ….. Papiamento Ela Enkontra Mi Mi tabata perdí i sin por a wòrdu hañá Mi tabata den pos asina skondí Ku mi no por a wòrdu mirá Mi tabata asina fis i shushi Pero E a haña mi Mi tabata den desierto buskando kaminda pa kas Mi no tabata sa unda pa bai Mi tabata den un situashon Kaminda speransa no tabata nada pami Mi tabata na punto pa kaba ku mi mes Mirando ku niun hende no por a yudami Pero E a haña mi Mi tabata asina leu for di kaminda ku mi méster tabata Bida a bira nada pami Mi a haña mi den un situashon ku nunka mi por a pensa di haña mi Esnan ku a bisa mi ku nan por yuda mi, A guiami na droga, frustrashon i detenshon Sin sa kiko mas pa hasi Pero E a haña mi Mi ker a mata mi kurpa pa asina mi tin sosiegu Pero na e momentu ku mi a pensa ku ta basta Señor Hesus a papia i bisa mi Ku Su mannan no ta kòrtiku pa toka mi Hesus a trese mi bèk kas Ta un hende a yega, djis bisa mi, Hesus stima mi Ku mi a bira i sigui e kaminda di lechi i miel Speransa mi a haña den dj’E Un bida nobo ma enkontrá Hesus a haña mi. Si bo ke papia bel mi, shammah Shammah.ministrie@hotmail.com Tel: 0643646788 / Skype: shammah37 == Change your negative thoughts By Shammah Soraima* Did you know that sadness can make you sick, sadness in your heart, in your being, pain in your chest? You are hurt, because your partner failed you and you became sour in your heart, now is the time to let go. Let us be quiet for a moment. God created us and gave us authority to dominate. What is it you believe in? If you stop thinking negative and start thinking positive you will see the energy growing within you. Negative thoughts create sourness, sadness and pain. They block the flow of energy. That is why you feel depressed and have heavy headaches. Your shoulders burn, your muscles are tight. Because oxygen cannot flow freely into your veins! But feel the difference when you create new and healthy energy. Think positive; do not play with your health as you only have one life and the second life is in Glory with the Spirit.
But now that you are in the flesh, wake up and enjoy life. What can be more glorious than a healthy life and the hope to achieve everything you set your mind on? If you need to talk, please feel free to call me. ….. - Papiamento -
Bosa ku tristesa por hasibu malu Tristesa d en bo Dolo riba bo pechu Sibo tin dolor pasombra bo patner a faya kubo, Bo a mara amargura nabo kurason Aawor ta tempu pabo laga los laga bai Ban para ketu Dios a krea nos i a duna nos Autoridat pa domina Kiko ta loke abo ta kere Sibo stop di pensa negativo i kuminsa pensa positivo Bota mira e energia kubo ta krea Negativismo ta krea amargura tristesa dolo Blokada ku ta stroba energia di pasa Pesey bota sinti opreshon druk riba bo kabes Bo skoudernan ta pika, bo spiernan tur ta forma konopi Pasombra no tin zuurstof ta pasa liber den bo ardunan Pero wak ora ku bo krea energia nobo i sano Pensa positivo no hasi wega kubo salu un bes so bo ta biba E di dos bida ta den Gloria I ta den spiritu Pero awor kubo ta den karni lanta gosa dibo bida Kiko ta gosa ?un bida salu Ku speransa pa logra tur loke ku bo kurason por desea Dios bendishona bo i te despues Si bo ke papia kontakt mi,laga nos hasi orashon huntu Tel: +31 6 43 646 788 Skype: shammah37 ==== POEMS BY Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema* The Osu song* I am an Osu therefore I am the earth's rejected; therefore I am the scorned undergrowth of the forest; therefore I am the teeth set on edge by sour grapes I know nothing of, let alone eat. I am an Osu therefore I am isolated in the midst of a crowd. I am an Osu therefore I can warm a bed but never sleep permanently in the bedowner' s arms; therefore I can live in a society but be societyless; therefore I can love but not be loved; therefore the holy writs,legislations and exhortations will not wash off the accursed stain of my pedigree running a-deep in my veins, the veins of one set apart from his fellows. I am an Osu therefore the new religion and laws are my fortress, the fortress that withstands the daily siege of the hoary antediluvian past the battering-rams of tradition; the cannons of culture; the muskets of custom; the war-machines of convention. Alas, where do I seek protection? I stand in the midst of my fellows seeking to be one with a people who alienate me by the stroke of the gods, gods they disdain by day and revere by night. Where do I stand? Yet in the innermost chambers I rejoice for every dark night must bow to the azure of the morning, the morning of the Osu' s liberation. *Osu (Igbo): a prevalent caste system among the Igbo of Eastern Nigeria. ….. He wrote a letter Out of the trenches, out of the foxholes as the planes delivered their goods of death as the azure morn turned hellfire-red as the stoutest hearts became carrion for vultures and heaven and earth wept in death he wrote a letter. Out of the cockpit, out of the seatbelt as the flying coffin ate up the sky as the co-pilot pressed the 'Detonate' button and the deluge of death drowned the damned he wrote a letter. Under the flash of the truck's headlights as the sprightly lieutenant donned fatigues as the sergeant passed out M-16s as the troopers patterned their death marches he wrote a letter. A letter to Suzzie: 'My love, if I do not come back, kiss another lip, another's bed warm, hug another heart, another's dreams fill; out here we die, not for our hearts, but for those who beat drums they do not dance to.' *Henry C. Onyema (also spelt Onyeama) is a teacher and writer in === Poems By Uche Peter Umez* In Vultures circle overhead Eager to pierce the bloated bellies Tanks rumble like elephants Eager to crush men and huts Soldiers prowl back and forth Eager to butcher another civilian Little boy wears a face like mask Eager to snatch the dead man’s rifle ..... Passer-by I saw you - bloodied arms flung over head Face battered and bruised Your voice humming a toothless strain Below the whish and crackle of their whips Cutting welts of agony deep into your heart As the fire flick-flashed its tongue over your body Curled up on the ground The sun blazed on The wind warmed my face Then I turned away ..... Considering a Janjaweed Convulsive melodies from the tangled shrubs Weeping through muddled waters Whisk blood in my head In the mirrors of fast amoebic eyes I try to mend the shards of memory Of innocence - The boy who trapped fish for pleasure Frisk eggs in fish’s bellies His laugh breaking in the great white sun Fruitless it is to detach him from the man of the desert Nurtured by fanatic milk Riding the dark with jolly Janjaweed Quenching lamps of peace in dwellings of teeming civilians I stalk slow firewood - Fetching girls as rabbits plunge quick fingers into their pubic lips below Slit stubborn mothers’ wombs as though some magic egg will spill forth In defiance to the wildfire of ideology Or distil me perhaps into phoenix glory *Uche Peter Umez, International Writing Programme, The ------ Do They Know? By Henry Chukwuemeka Onyeama* Do they know it was there Yes, that very spot that He was born? Do they know that the grenade desecrates the manger where the baby's head rests on a pile of winter grass? The rocket, dropping from a stratosphere of hatred, drowns the hosannas of the celestial choir on that cold Christmas morning? The flamethrowers, the bombs and the bomblets, pierce the pacific soil with the pulsations of war. On the day the heavenly sentinels announced: 'Glory be to God in the highest And on earth peace and goodwill to all men' a shiny sword was unsheathed from a scarlet scabbard. Why do they pollute the manger with something worse than sheep's droppings? It matters not if they call Him Isa, Jesus or Joshua. Their tongues blaspheme the name for their hearts and hands are sticky with discord. *Henry C. Onyeama ((also spelt Onyema) is a writer and teacher in
----- Come Home By Henry Chukwuemeka Onyeama* You who wander in the alien's land You who close your ears to the homeland's sirens come home. You who dance to the rock' n roll of destiny You who cherish another's homestead and close your eyes to the dense jungle in your ancestral shrine come home. Yes, come home though the roads are blessed with potholes though the taps overflow with mud though the Power Holding Company holds power with the anarchic fury of a sick stabilizer though piss-eyed cops snuff out the dreams of fresh saplings though your libraries are as dusty and empty as Vandals-ravaged relics come home. Come home to your heart's soil. No, no, no. Patriotism' s song is not survival' s package. We live to love. Our homestead' s fire has been put out extinguished by those who would build mansions over our ancestral shrines for themselves alone
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