Flamboyantly clad,
Feathers arranged in an astonishing
array of colours,
distinctively seen,
brightest of all,
and uniquely adorned for
a century's wedlock in
a bird's haven.
That is I, the Peacock.
The angel with elegance that you
crave for.
An epitome of standards coveted by
models fair.
Endowed by nature with neither
mascara nor lipstick.
But having features elusive that
pageants in a lifetime ache for.

Behold the lamb of God is born this day!
In a manger warm with beddings of hay.
Where beasts inhabit and drop their waste,
fit for none else but those of lowly caste.

Behold the infant Lord whose lowly birth
was marked by celestials in joy and mirth.
In an orchestra in the distant sky,
they played the first carol right there on high.

I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.

I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.

I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.

I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.

I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.

My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the 'inferior' races,
how could you 'superiority' claim?

I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.

So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.

Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,

as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.

Our school sails on serene rivers of excellence.
A model of hard work and unfeigned resilience.
Here we train leaders of our century's future,
irrespective of tribe, religion and culture.

Here we soar ceaselessly beyond our sky's limit
by imbibing skills required for our dream's zenith.
In utmost straining and striving we hardly yield.
Yet our persistent spirits know not dismay.
Because our fruitful toiling will brilliance convey,
on this placid and fertile academic field.

In our lofty mission we are second to none,
as we realize our vision of being number one.
Adorable the unparalleled in service,
will make a genius once considered a novice.

I bought boots for Christmas to tread the icy plains.
I bought toys for Christmas with Santas in my trains.
I lit my home for Christmas with a Cedar bright.
I made cup cakes for Christmas for my love's delight.
I bought Jane a dress for Christmas with ribbons pink.
I bought for my grandma a cozy Christmas mink.
I bought for Jill two amazing Christmas Sparrows.
I bought for Jack a toy quiver full of arrows.
I bought an Elk for Christmas with nose giving light.
I bought for Christmas, candles for a solemn night.
I made for Christmas a warm and sweet lemonade,
and I sang on Christmas morn, a sweet Serenade.

Christmas brings lights that lighten every alley.
Christmas fills the void of each heart's saddened valley.
Christmas brings Santa with surprising gifts of toys.
Christmas brings laughter to mainly girls and boys.
Christmas brings carols sung by mellifluous voices.
Christmas brings fantasies that suit many choices.
Christmas adds glamour to the choicest street's splendour.
Christmas emits fun with its rare yuletide colour.
Christmas makes sad faces to beam with unfeigned smiles.
Christmas brings seasonal joy travelling several miles.
Christmas brings hope to the annually despondent.
Christmas brings Christ, ever in our hearts resident.

Sometime in December,
2008, our magnetic gaze of love
did more than just speak or act.
It was in wedlock consummated.
And like a dream, ten years have
gone by, as our tender fruits of
affection continue to sprout daily.

Continue to rest on my shoulder
until the sun on our wedlock sets.

Weep not Nigeria,
for justice is in the offing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your cries resonate and ring.
Weep not Nigeria,
It's time for your African spring.
Weep not Nigeria,
none shall usurp your role as king.
Weep not Nigeria,
for soon in ecstasy you'll sing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for to towering heights you'll cling.
Weep not Nigeria,
and soar atop the eagle's wing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your patience will gladness bring.
Weep not Nigeria,
it's time to sing the ding **** song.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your misery will not be long.
Weep not Nigeria,
for you are numbered with the strong.

I heard an old old Christmas song
sung by grandma on Christmas eve.
It wasn't in good stanzas long,
but it did the joyous times retrieve.
It gladdened my heart which did grieve
over all I thought I'd done wrong,
and could not annually achieve.
It did convey emotions strong
of joyous moments to relive:
Modest gifts, traditional meals
and the sweet scent of warmth that heals.
Contented in want we all shared
whilst our affections showed we cared.
All on our humble home converged,
in living rooms hardly enlarged.
To drink and eat cheap wine and food,
in unrivaled ecstasy and mood.

I heard an old old Christmas song
sung by grandma on Christmas eve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of a ****** who did conceive.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of a Christ child who will relieve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of glad tidings we shall receive.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of peace on earth we shall achieve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of joyful people who did grieve.
I heard an old old Christmas song
of pain eternal we shall leave.

I'll spend this Christmas with none but you.
A time we'll relive old times anew,
in ecstasy on fifth avenue.
From nightfall until the skies turn blue,
fun will bid boredom a last adieu.
In this yuletide our love will renew
vintage affections beheld by few,
void of any pretentious residue,
because this Christmas is all about you.

I did in my garden see a Snake.
Curled calmly around the gardener's rake.
Knowing that my dear life was at stake,
I beckoned in fright to my son Jake.
"Get the matchbox and fuel for God's sake.
Burn him or precious lives he might take.
Recall the curse that came in the wake
of man's sin for which God did forsake
him in a world he couldn't retake."
But swiftly the Snake made for the lake.

The canons thunder,
the rifles rage,
and the horses
like swarms of bees
storm the plains
of feudal Europe.
Her princes tremble
and willingly
capitulate.
Prussia's undoubtedly mine
from Bavaria to the Rhine.
Russia's dreary wintry plains
will be where my scepter reigns.
Italy is my inheritance
as Portugal dreads resistance.
Without the sword i'll woo Poland
whilst to her knees i'll bring England
and kingdoms of the British isles.
French civilization and styles
will dethrone Europe's old order
as our ideals expand further.

My Lord the good shepherd and fortress of hope.
I gladly rest within thy Calvary's scope.
Where ills, death, torment are never endemic
in a world where strife is largely systemic.

Satan's forces can never with thee contend.
As they tirelessly try my soul to rend.
For in thy hands Lord I deliver my all,
let not the enemy gloat over my fall.

Hide me Lord from the ravenous devil's snare.
Through stalking passions he tries to draw me near
to hell's dreary coast of unquenchable fire.
Keep me from the deceit of this age old liar.

When I achieve eternity's sinless goal,
Lord to thee I will commend my precious soul.
Guarantee my safe passage to heaven's gate.
A celestial realm that is devoid of hate.

Intrepid damsel,
a heroine unsung.
A willing martyr
with courage
unrivalled.
Unransomed captive
with a ransom
infinite.
She gladly faces
death with eternity
in view.
Like her lover before her,
she chooses to be
a sacrificial lamb
to the slaughter.
Leah Sharibu,
the heroine unsung.
She that chose to mortify
her passions
for timeless paradise.
Hardly daunted by
Kalashnikovs and
thunderous explosives,
she inherits a world
deemed abstract by
unfaithful adherents.

Wake up Nigeria whilst it is still day.
Your darkness thickens in the hot summer sun.
Wake up Nigeria from your spectators' fun.
Like a titan to the slaughter, your way
to financial hades might be certain.
Awake, or your future is uncertain.
Your teeming youth population languish
in persistent erosive social crimes.
Awake Nigeria from pain and anguish.
Your tragedies exceed your countless births.
Awake Nigeria, for these many deaths
reveal a corrupt weakened armed forces.
Awake Nigeria from your great slumber.
Your rank in the black world has been usurped.
Awake Nigeria, reclaim your number
one position by treading those courses
once trod, and never again to be stopped.
Awake Nigeria and discern the times.
Cease for good to be black gold dependent.

Rose,
The morn is bright
and fair,
and so art thou.
Good Lord! when
shall my envy
cease, for he that loveth thee?
My convincing love words
will never be exhausted
until your highly sought
after hand in marriage I have won.
Contenders from the east, west,
north and south of France
line up by day just for your
consent to seek.
But just as dauntless, relentless
and resilient in battle I have been,
so will I be in my struggle
with these contenders
for your heart's epicentre.

Saviour divine, in utter amazement we stare
at your celestial and terrestrial works of art.
The shrubs, the trees, the tares, the flowers fair
all brilliantly arranged choreographically
for your amusement, entertainment and pleasure.
The names of all beasts, wild and tamed you know by heart,
for in a global view you watch them at leisure.
The earth's landscape and plains are geographically
fashioned by you, with gardens and relief features.
Your boisterous seas contain aquatic creatures,
great and small, most pleasant and refreshing for meats.
At your thunderous command, from where your highness sits,
the rains, sleet, hail, snow all water the entire earth.
The golden sun, the silver moon, the diamond stars
each give their vivid expressions of your glory.
Of your ingenuity do the birds sing in mirth.
The planets; Mercury, Neptune, Venus, and Mars
line up with five others in reverent procession
for your wonderful works made for man's possession.
Oh! what a magnificent creation story.

My heart cannot
anymore my emotions
accommodate.
Permit me to be pragmatic
in affections which
in its very bottom I
have buried:
Let me hold you in
my cozy arms and
kiss you. Let me your
succulent apples feel,
as I explore the smooth,
soft and sweet fragrant
landscape of your body.
The sensual touch of your
lower curves would
undoubtedly to the
highest heavens convey me.
Let me hold you tight
so that no one else
may grab you.
Let me in your love's
citadel seek eternal
refuge from the vast
armies of Europe.

Sugary, yummy, tasteful
and dexterously
carved out to mollify
my infinite passionate
urge.
The work of celestial
hands once
in hundred decades
seen.

My emotions are explosive.
My pretenses are relegated
to the depths.
I cannot my feelings
anymore conceal.
Let me come in and
share your heavenlies
and tumults with you.
Tomorrow never comes.
Let me this day your
swift response hear.
Or else in suspense
I'll live and die
countless before the
much awaited moment.

Nigeria my beloved home is under siege:
A death trap I see in her third mainland bridge.
The crying blood of the slain in the North-east
overwhelms vicious politicians with guilt.
Humans with hearts of beasts ravage her North-west,
outgunning her corrupt weakened armed forces.
Catacombs of mass graves quantify losses
incurred from incessant farmers-herders clash.
Darkness looms as stupendous amounts of cash
are cast in an energy sector like trash.
Her healing centres are no more than health morgues,
and her institutions breed intellectual dogs.
Her oligarchs of the six zones unify
to plunder, **** and line their pockets with filth.
With peanuts they entice poverty stricken
youths, just to have their sit-tight bids guaranteed them.
Indulgences from the gullible gratify
custodians of faith endowed with seducing lips.
My beloved Nigeria has failed to hearken
to the values of the elders before them.
With priorities misplaced, we go seeking
for stereotyped reputations in our trips
to foreign climes for filthy lucre to acquire.
Good Lord! When will values my mother-land require?

Good Morning Grandma.
It really was a hitch free journey
between a tumultuous earth,
and a refreshing dawn
in a glamorous
celestial city.
Conveyed in honour,
on eternity's ship,
in the midst of a flotilla,
each by angels maneuvered.
I do sincerely congratulate you
for your new found bliss.
And as you merry in your
world of paradisation,
be sure to plead our cause
before His Majesty divine.

I woke up early on a Christmas morn.
Gladly waiting for Santa before dawn.
Looking through blinds in anxiety I'd torn,
I'd hoped to see him approaching my lawn,
in costumes in previous years he had worn.
But in disguise he came with a French horn,
playing elegies of demons unborn.
Wheat, barley, oats, rice and grains of sweet corn
filled his socks for a land which was war-torn.
I'd thought the usual Santa would return.
But a different Santa came to fore-warn
me of a nagging menace that had drawn
my nation to the brink, and seeks to drown
her in a season of yuletide to mourn.

Samson and Delilah
Submitted By: Joseph C Ogbonna

Delilah: Samson! Why do you imprison my love in the dungeon of mistrust?
The hypnotism of my succulent *******, and the soothing soft feel of
my moist lips, your stolid heart betrays.
You really do have the strength of a God, but even a God is subject to
the mind blowing caresses of a goddess. Prove your love to me by submitting
to just this nagging request, and our much anticipated wedlock which you very
much desire will be certain.
Samson: Your words turn me on as much as the moist feel of your honey gate. How could I
ever resist thee Delilah? Certainly at your behest, I bequeath my awesome and
divine strength.
Delilah: Then rest your troubled head on the comfort of my massaging hands, and see that
there never was nor can ever be, a warm resting place for your wearied head like
these lovely hands of mine designed like a pillow fit for a Prince.

What a lovely morn concealed in radiance!
With melodious rhymes sung in ecstasy.
What a pleasant evening spent in ambience!
With candles glowing in joy's embassy.
What a season known for so much laughter!
With all its fraternizing and delights.
What a day to chant hymns with a Psalter!
In cathedrals embellished with bright lights.
What a day for lovers to reminisce!
As they reflect on each Piano piece.
What a day for kids to delight in toys!
With smiles beaming on faces of girls and boys.
What a time to mark a pleasant holiday!
Its nothing more than a happy Christmas day!

I am here on an archaeological quest,
to satisfy many a curious mind's request
for knowledge on antiques and artifacts
of Egypt's long extinct historical facts,
in treasured sands buried, like gold mines earnestly
sought for in stories shrouded in mythology.
With a large contingent just as curious as I,
hardly daunted by curses, but with shoulders high,
We went to the field, the sun baking us chaps
to a baker's delight. With our rumpled maps,
we searched every clue, and were bitten perhaps
by a million flies. Getting relief from sunless skies
in times of fair weather, whilst hoping something lies
in the depths of the hot sands for our very eyes
to see. With my tools by hard work and search worn out,
I brushed to full view, the tomb, brilliantly carved out
of young blue blooded Tut, regally laid to rest.
To my wearied colleagues I spoke in real earnest:
'To exhume the past, we are here at last.'

Fernando, I do sincerely extol thee.
You were as much passionate in symphony
as you were in death, which you faced willfully.
Cursed were the cruel war machines that silenced thee.
But still to celestial heights they lifted thee.
For in great honour at heaven's distant gates,
you became heaven's fiddler at God's request,
to play in courts before the heavenly greats,
in a manner timeless at their own behest.
Fernando Buschmann, the fiddler at the tower.
He that rendered sad tunes in his final hour,
playing Pagliacci at the twilight of life.
Continue to rest in a world void of strife,
until justice for your death we all shall see.

One sunny afternoon, I coiled
in the grass, and later wriggled
my way through the woods.
Though scaly and limbless I am,
yet uniquely created and
outstanding amongst beasts.
My charming rhythmic
movement caught the attention
of the hunter, who though struck
by awe, yet coveted my lurid
green scales.
On approaching me, the glitter of my
divinely adorned skin, revealed in the
pasture land by the scorching
rays of the tropical sun, calmed his fevered
nerves.
There never was such natural
beauty ever seen by him, in fact if he
were deeply inclined to his ancestral beliefs,
perhaps he would have numbered me with the gods.
Neither the lilies of the valley nor
the garden of roses
in their astonishing array of colours
could my beauty be likened to.
'What manner of creature?' said he,
'long beautiful belt like features
fit to adorn the tunics of a goddess.
Yet he sojourns like a priceless
jewel in the midst of the thorny woods.
But just who could he possibly be? a fallen angel?
a reptile with a twin-forked tongue? a mermaid
on the terrestrial? or even Lucifer himself,
the fairest of angels all'.
'But I for the thick woods went,
for fear of an age-old foe.
Wriggling steadily, steadily along the path,
ready to vanish from
his dreadful sight.'

As we begin a journey so uncertain,
you and I made one in a world of ours.
Our thoughts and emotions to share,
our pleasant moments together to cherish,
and our pains and sorrows to endure.
I pledge my unflinching loyalty to you
this day, and for the rest of my life, by
taking an oath of fidelity to make our
uncertain journey certain.
I vow before you and God almighty
to be there for you in times of need,
in times of want, in times of joy,
in times of bliss, and in times of despair.
I vow to nourish and to nurture your
mortal body and soul.
To share my infinite possessions with you,
and to bequeath them at death to you.
I solemnly promise to cast my hopeful
sunbeam on you,
to cause your emotional eye fluid to dry
in your moments of grief.
Every thought of thee gives me health,
and a minute with thee is truly a life time
to remember.
Nothing else shall separate us both save death.
May heaven grant its consent to our eternal union.

Oh that wars may cease,
oh that peace might reign.
Oh that men may seize
brutes who are the bane
of societal peace,
so that peace and love
may never be lost
nor our fragile trust
become precarious.
May our many foes
be saved from death's throes.
May tanks be plowshares,
and guns harvesters.
May our daily cares
on neighbours be cast.
May all our youngsters
cease evil to learn
by working to earn
their wages by day.
Oh may the boisterous
child be not consumed
by his fatal fall.
Oh that people may
seek good roles to play
in a world so small
and shaped like a ball.
Oh that we may fast
comprehend the times,
as the clock bell chimes,
and all our callous
deeds be not resumed.

Roses have colours with global appeal,
some are pink, blue, red, white and they reveal
glamour and beauty for all to cherish.
Roses have in them the power of love,
so do they the ability to heal
a heart broken and tormented by grief.
In our relationships they distinguish
themselves as love gifts to bring great relief
to our loving hearts by erasing doubt.
Roses are ever showy and fragrant,
emitting royalty's wonderful scent,
worn by proud Princes who are nobly sent.
They blossom in the rains and in the drought.
Though they are peculiar gifts to us from above,
still with sharp thorns, they could be defiant.

You raise your wings like an angelic insect,
sent with a goodwill message to deliver,
hovering around flowers gay with a gentle touch,
and the kiss of life of a kindhearted fairy.
You are truly blameless of anything scary,
bringing more life to nature without defect,
generously giving without desiring much
in return, unlike many a human deceiver.

Corsican born, and an emperor mighty indeed.
Who from obscurity came up to prominence,
who from French shores the attacks of armies repelled,
who had at his disposal, Europe's resources,
who to Saint Helena from French shores was expelled.
Of old Italian nobility he was seed.
Shortish in height, yet towering in ambition.
Military genius of the highest distinction,
whose military strategy is second to none save
Alexander. Whose courage is held in reverence,
whose cradle at infancy was kept in a cave
from strong invading imperialist French forces.
He gave up an empire so vast at Waterloo;
A threat to the memories of his victories past.
Mighty Napoleon, who at Austerlitz excelled.
You did on the beautiful older Josephine cast
your loving eyes, which were hypnotized with passion,
yet focused on so lofty an ambition.
Not even your love for her would rival your love
for world conquest, for which you assiduously strove.

I knew my heart had been  set alight with passion,
that memorable day I cast my very eyes on thee.
Your slightest rebuff to my endless advances
would pose a more formidable challenge to me
than Europe's invincible, combined vast army.
The day you unlocked the sealed entrance to thine heart,
was like opening the world's palatial epicentre.
The access you gave me to thy love's citadel,
was like the lofty achievement of a world conquest.

When I depart the realm
of the terrestrial,
for the splendour of the celestial,
do not bury my remains in the
valley of the kings,
for robbers would move my
bones in search of gold rings.
I detest sharing the glory of
the blue-bloods with them
in death.
But I would like my molded
clay buried in the worm
infested earth,
where it would nourish both
worm and field,
and help moisture give life
to mother earth's withered
yield.

Africa's venerated literary
icon with words of eloquence
esoteric to the blind.
Distinguished in letters
for ages infinite.
Unparalleled in intellect,
and a gadfly of constructive
dissenting views.
Soyinka,
You are indeed a priceless
asset to the black race.
The wise grey-haired doyen
of literary geniuses,
whose ingenuity is in a century
once seen,
and in a Millennium, ten times.

Europe my realm and my prized possession,
I instill in thee our novel ideals,
for your feudal laws our conquest repeals.
Our boisterous wind of emancipation
liberates Spain from draconian inquisition.
Of the proud Brits' stupendous earning power,
an Egyptian campaign would rest the case.
I have made subservient Austria to face
defeat and lasting capitulation.
By sheer divine providence, I soar
above my Italian inheritance,
bequeathed by Papal authority,
and placed in custody of my viceroy.
By my might, I brought to subjugation,
the recalcitrant fiefdom of Russia,
and the resilient kingdom of Prussia.
Not even Portugal dared resistance,
with her weak army debased like a toy.
But in sudden flight, and rare sobriety,
her sovereign lord bowed to abdication.

Corsica, oh my Corsica,
Corsica of a thousand charms,
Corsica of whose fragrance
I can distinguish from France.
I delight in your coat of arms,
with an image the replica
of an emancipated man.
You were my childhood paradise,
in your gardens I played and ran.
Your shores inspired delightful tales
of a land fortified by whales.
Oh Corsica, my Corsica,
I long to inhabit your shores,
to flee Hudson's punitive laws.
There never was a land so dear
as this idyllic island rare.
France did value thee at a price,
and Genoa prospered from thy sale.
Corsica, oh my Corsica,
shall I ever see thee again?
or will my longing be in vain?
Oh, how I love thee Corsica,
heal my protracted home sickness
like a tender loving mistress.

I am the peacock,
the beautiful bride
of the bird kingdom.
I am in no doubt
fairer than the ****,
for I dwarf its pride
with feathers that stand out.
I am the Peacock
who desires serfdom
from the bird kingdom,
for I long to usurp
the title of king
from the strong Eagle
who soars atop
with its air-borne wings.
Though fit as fiddle
with an awesome strength,
gliding the sky's length
at a blistering pace,
yet dreaded for a face
that is void of grace.
I am the Peacock,
the elegantly clad.
Humans would be mad
to contend with me,
for shame you would see
if unclad they be.

Blessed Diana, thrilling phrases of love would make a paragraph,
for your much distinguished and magnificent epitaph.
Your slumber to eternity be likened to a sleeping beauty,
who will be awakened by the kiss of a Seraphic prince of immortality.
For a wedding in the heavenly realms forever shall be
an occasion for the heavens and earth to jointly see.
The hierarchy of heaven to grace the occasion,
inhabitants of the earth beneath to magnify its celebration,
the stars and other luminous bodies give a vivid expression
of the wedding of a goddess of the hunt, as a lasting impression.
Immortal Princess, forever an epitome of honour,
may your gentle and passionate soul dwell in heavenly splendour.

You've kept my heart's dynamite aflame.
You know I can never be the same,
since your charming kiss did my heart tame.
What words can describe your beauty's fame?
No smile can contend with yours' my dame.
It sends sorrow back from whence it came.
Zeinab the sweetheart of Nubian fame,
whose love men would seek for like a game,
each dreaming at the mention of your name.
And if in contention they must maim
dislodged rivals by making them lame,
for your worth, many would never blame
them for such apparent show of shame.

It was indeed orchestrated by providence,
for two hypnotized by love on social media.
It was indeed the innovation of the times
that united two once unbeknownst to each other.
Separated by tongue, culture, values and distance.
A French kiss across the Niger, strengthened further
by an age of digital encyclopedia.
Behold, love is in the air as the church bell chimes
for two, reaping from the gains of a smaller globe.
Set to find themselves inextricable in a robe.
Lovers set to make a vow with a covenant kiss,
guaranteed to grant them both a wedlock of bliss.
Tese and Rosemary in their world of ambience.

Behold the Christ child is born this day,
just as the prophets of old did say.
In a manger on the cozy hay
did his infant Lordship choose to stay.
No cradle by a thousand kings paid
for, would befit his divine highness
whose crown is celestial and priceless,
glowing with gems of regal brightness.
Yet in a manger so low he laid.
Behold the Christ child, God's timeless gift,
who will from sin's merciless *******, lift
men to heights from where they went adrift
from God's intended realm in Eden.
His birth in yuletide our lives sweeten
with lit golden marbles to lighten
dark alleys which were once stress ridden.