Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joseph C Ogbonna Dec 2022
Give me a smile, that I may build on your assurance,
Kiss me, that I may have to thy kind heart entrance,
Love me less, and see how tumultuous life could be,
Give thy command, and see my loyalty to thee.

In thine absence, mine heart cannot from thee depart;
A moment's departure would rend my world apart.
I recall that very day I beheld thy face;
A lasting memory I will forever retrace.
That Sunday when thine eyes did my emotions disarm;
The day mine heart responded to thy Love's alarm,
The day you sat upon mine heart's epicentre,
To govern my feelings from their very centre.
Josephine my love, I bequeath my self-will to thee,
Let me thy world share, and make thine own tumults mine,
And come in to my own world, for all I have is thine.
A poem based on Napoleon Bonaparte's love life with the empress Josephine de Beauharnais
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
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.
A poem based on Napoleon Bonaparte(1769-1821), whilst on exile on the isle of St Helena, after his defeat at Waterloo by wellington and Blucher.
Joseph C Ogbonna Oct 2019
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.
Napoleon's European conquest
Joseph C Ogbonna Dec 2022
At Austerlitz I two nations vanquished;
making me historically distinguished.
At Marengo I had Austria subdued;
then I was to honour undoubtedly glued.
At the Pyramids, Mamluks kissed the sands;
then like a French Pharaoh I annexed their lands.
At Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to her knees fell,
to avoid carnage, and possibly hell.
At Borodino, Kutuzov my boots licked,
as his Russian forces had their arses kicked.
At Ligny, Blucher like a coward fled,
as his smitten forces profusely bled.
At Toulon I first distinguished myself
for a career that would exalt oneself.
Rolica, Leipzig, Waterloo like curses came,
but history will forever my triumphs reclaim.
Napoleon Bonaparte's historic conquest of Europe and half of the globe.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jul 2023
I am his punching bag,
he punches me at will,
he punches me to vent his anger,
he does so to douse his frustrations.
He tries to regulate my emotions,
he entrenches himself fastidiously
in my life's branches.

My constant battery is his love's
justification.
To him, none else could care better,
not even my own sacrificial mum.
In my secular and public life,
his raging jealousy is hardly concealed.
I am his only mood swing's spectator,
I am enslaved by regular and
suicidal threats.
I must to his own will remain subservient
for my own dear children's survival.
Not even my domestic pets are spared.
My movement is restrained, every
friend of mine is a suspect,
and my conversations are thoroughly
scrutinized.
His watchful eyes are never exhausted
by prying.
He makes my life a world of suspicion
and espionage.
My conscience is daily by blame overwhelmed.
I am worthless and hardly esteemed, and can on
none else rely.
I have no better friend or acquaintance than him.
My inferior gender is a social stigma,
hence I am closeted with his unquestionable
desires.

I must please him to the utmost
with my food, chores and body;
My meals must sate his insatiable appetite
with the very best cuisines of his choice.
My house chores must be flawless in dexterity
for his perfectionist requests to please.
At bed time my **** and body curves
must gratify and gratify his ****** proclivities,
even at my own very expense.
A married Nigerian lady's poetic narrative about domestic violence
Joseph C Ogbonna Sep 2021
Nigeria our great and beloved motherland,
where multitudes of tribes unitedly stand.
Our land of hope by two rivers divided,
with lush vegetation by nature provided.

Nigeria our home of people resilient.
A land of great icons in works diligent.
We hail thee our great and revered black nation,
our land of human dignity and redemption.

God arise and take your place as sovereign Lord.
Enthrone Thyself in Nigeria's seat of power.
Make her edicts and laws Thy eternal word.
Let justice prevail in her courts by the hour.

Our flag will peace and industry symbolize,
whilst our history will always immortalize
the deeds and sacrifices of our heroes past.
Help us Lord to serve our beloved land with zest.

Nigeria the blessed will pervasive peace know,
even when the threats of tumults seem to flow.
Her crops and yields will neighbouring countries nourish,
from her fields that inexhaustibly flourish.
A poem to my beloved country
Joseph C Ogbonna Jun 2023
Well, so they tell us-
the political gladiators and
heavy weights. That in permanent
servitude we must remain.

They create a void in our stomachs,
which they momentarily fill with
what they carted away from us.
Just for their self will and whims
for another leap year's tenure to
be entrenched.

They widen the capacity for evil
of the canines they have intentionally
starved.
For a bone's morsel, the canines
viciously their draconian orders
execute.
Just for their masters' sit-tight
bid to be guaranteed.

Restrained with the servile chains
of their desperate overlords, they bark
ravenously at the oppressed,
who have come to liberate themselves
at polling units.
Each time the unworthy is by the
ballot box overthrown, the ravenous
canines at the hands of feeble
patriots gnaw.

A pound of flesh they take
from the down-trodden kingmakers,
to usurp the power they have
in good governance vested.

The umpire with filthy lucre gratified,
raises the hand of the fraudulently
triumphant political Brahmin,
who for another leap year's tenure
subjugates his dalits with utter
deprivation; ASUU strikes, poor infrastructure,
incessant power cuts, poor health delivery,
persistent insecurity, unemployment
and the cancerous bad governance.

With fat cheeks and stiff neck
that is well sunken into a robust torso,
he regularly raises the sides of an
African attire of elitist renown,
set once more to amass more spoils
of political office for a privileged
family dynasty.
A poem about Nigeria's flawed 2023 polls.
Joseph C Ogbonna Aug 2019
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.
A poem about the deteriorating state of my beloved country
Joseph C Ogbonna Jul 2021
God almighty of generations all,
who did witness great empires rise and fall.
We gladly wait for thy eternal reign,
when saints martyred will beam with smiles unfeigned.

God immortal of centuries ageless,
whose dexterity carved our global ball.
When will thy saints the new earth inherit?
where conduct is guided by thy spirit.

God universal of all earth's races,
who ingeniously made different faces.
We anxiously wait for contempt to cease
in our world of disdain and fragile peace.

God magnanimous of fields succulent,
who buried riches in lands opulent.
We thy loyal flock seek living water,
help us oh, Lord thy great laws to master.

God the merciful of love undeserved,
who through Christ the entire human race served.
Mercifully hear us thy servants plead.
Help us obliterate each carnal misdeed.
A hymn for Churches
Joseph C Ogbonna Feb 2018
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.
A poem pleading for local and global peace
Joseph C Ogbonna Jul 2022
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when in a famished state I hunt,
In pastures green and lush with abundance,
He renews my spry and exuberance.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In gardens of drought He will fortune plant.
He leads to quiet pools of fresh water
from which I draw strength and endless laughter.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my requests for pleasant paths grant.
Even when to deepest darkness I stray,
He lovingly paves a most glorious way.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when my foes seek my life to hunt,
His rod and staff give me all the comfort
that allay my fears of every discomfort.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my sumptuous feasts and banquets flaunt
for my blood thirsty adversaries to see
from abased locations on bended knee.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when Satan tries my soul to haunt,
His goodness and mercy will follow me
until His heavenly abode I see.
A poem based on the biblical Psalm 23
Joseph C Ogbonna Dec 2022
Elizabeth;
Of immensely esteemed birth.
Highly respected in life,
but more respected in death.
Having a crown that ceased to decay
for many decades long.
A queen of kings, but still a wife,
custodian of traditions strong.
She that saw historic anniversaries,
She that saw millennial discoveries,
She that transcends previous monarchies
in length of days and pivotal reign.
Queen of a realm of historic gains,
where the sun never sets on their plains.
All to Westminster their griefs convey
to our departed who countless smiles gave.
And for your funeral would many for death crave.
Queen Elizabeth II. Composed in September, 2022
Joseph C Ogbonna Feb 2018
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.
A poem about Roses
Joseph C Ogbonna Aug 2022
Intrepid gadfly;
the voice of dissent.
Multiple times stricken,
multiple times resolved.
Though he bleeds,
still the pen that chides never bleeds,
nor is it obliterated.
For three decades and four,
death he evaded,
still, multiple times stricken,
evasive he remains.
A poem dedicated to the intrepid author, Salman Rushdie.
Joseph C Ogbonna Sep 2018
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.
Samson and Delilah
Joseph C Ogbonna Apr 2018
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.'
A poem about the beauty of the Snake. A creature I consider to be one of the most dreadful and amazing on earth.
Joseph C Ogbonna Oct 2019
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.
A poem about the Snake and nature.
Joseph C Ogbonna Aug 2023
Executive- My powers are absolute,
                    thus I am totalitarian.
                    The legislature and judiciary
                    are each subservient to my whims.
                    I pass my bills with attendant
                    compliance, and interpret my own
                    terms as the law.
                    I shut the doors of compassion,
                    I am very deeply elusive.
                    I give no room at all to dissent.
                    I get bloated with the treasures of the nation.
                    In a leap year's tenure I bulldoze
                    my way back to my incumbent status.
                    And when four multiplies two, I impose
                    a minion to cover my ills.

Legislature- To obnoxious decrees I give my consent.
                       I inflate yearly forecasts to become opulent.
                       I am gratified for the cabinet servants' affirmation.
                       I always my selfish treaties ratify.
                       I am undoubtedly slavish to executive excesses.
                       I seek the redress of constituents' grievances
                       to enlarge my pocket's size.
                       And above all else, I am largely rubber stamp.

Judiciary- My evasive justice is yours' to reap
                   if you are a top notch,
                   whilst I withdraw the distributive
                   and restorative from insolvents.
                   I base my interpretations on business
                   interests,
                   and make laws for the interests of
                   a cabal.
                   Equity and rights are only in my
                   constitution stated.
                   But in reality they are no more
                   than abstract twins.
                   The sacred laws of our national prospectus
                   I serve as a weak custodian of,
                   and weaker still in the face of political
                   heavyweights.
                   But with all the lofty responsibilities
                   I am reverently saddled with,
                   I can do nothing more than
                   empower bigwigs because I am weak,
                  and they are powerful.
The characteristic traits of Nigeria's three arms of government.
Joseph C Ogbonna Apr 2021
Take me to the crystal rivers that flow
with calm pristine diamond torrents that glow.
Take me to where all seasonless yields grow
from the effortless hands of men who sow.
Take me to lands of neither high nor low,
where equality reigns with none below.
I see meadows lush that men do not mow.
I see people who do not toil for dough,
with minds innocent, and without a foe,
beaming with smiles radiant that overflow.
In gardens green where sorrow does not show,
kindness is what all men their neighbours owe.
For all men do not accusations throw
at their neighbours calm who vice do not know.
Where each man with a cheerful heart says hello!
My desire for Paradise
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
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.
A poem about two Nigerians from different ethnic backgrounds who fell in love through facebook.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jun 2020
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.
Christmas delight
Joseph C Ogbonna Dec 2022
Christ in a manger was laid,
regally known but lowly.
His royal identity
was to three wise men revealed,
but from his kinsmen concealed.

Christ was in Bethlehem born;
his royal ancestor's city.
A king that sinners would scorn,
and would by his friend be betrayed.

Messiah to the unholy;
born to salvage the wicked
with the blood of his innocence.
He was nailed with no evidence,
He shared the fate of the crooked
but his unjust conviction
he never appealed against.
Born that we all might be cleansed,
born that men no more may die,
born that men may reign on high,
and born that men might see God.
Merry Christmas
Joseph C Ogbonna May 2019
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.
This poem is about the biblical creation of the world. A notion often countered by skeptics, but firmly believed by me. I do not share the Darwinian theory of evolution or natural selection, but I still do not condemn     it.
Joseph C Ogbonna Apr 2019
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?
A poem depicting the author's concern for the deteriorating state of his mother-land
Joseph C Ogbonna Apr 2018
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.
In memory of Fernando Buschmann(1890-1915), German Brazilian killed by the British for espionage during WW1.
Deify me, I illuminate your world.
I shine like your luminous guardian angel.
In the cosmos, I am your adored arch-angel.
I awake to brighten a lack-luster morning.
I always your routine activities herald.
I glitter for the flora to have their fill,
so do I for men to energize their mill.
Of the ocean currents I keep on warning.
I make the flora lush for medicine and food.
I awake for the globe's universal good,
and sleep at even with a sated crimson smile.
I pave the way for the silver and dew for a while.
The globe's life would cease without my needful presence.
Of the firmament, I am the very essence.
A poem about the Sun
Joseph C Ogbonna Oct 2023
I heard the voice of the good shepherd say;
"I did your sad and weary soul salvage,
lean on me, I did for your freedom pay.
Lean on me, and come to God with courage."
The soft voice of Jesus tenderly speaks,
when in moments of pain, my sadness peaks.
His assuring words give my poor soul rest,
as I lay my wearied head on his breast.

I heard the voice of the good shepherd say;
of the life giving bread he freely gives
to all the redeemed in whose hearts he lives.
I came to him as hungry as I was,
and my spiritual stomach he did sate.
His soft spoken voice always pleads my cause,
his love for me is always up to date;
thus on him only I can hang my fate.

I heard the voice of the good shepherd say;
"I am the only sacrificial lamb,
no one else can duplicate my good role."
I once was lost, but he rescued my soul,
he did protect my fallen soul from harm.
When from his sheepfold I stubbornly strayed,
with no regard for the price he gladly paid,
he lovingly sought me out without delay.
The Good shepherd
Joseph C Ogbonna Jul 2023
Thunderous fighter birds,
loud torrential explosives,
blood thirsty Kalashnikovs,
monstrous and destructive tanks,
bloodshed by the river banks,
numerous catacombs interred,
dismembered bodies
on landscapes littered.
Vengeful hearts embittered,
countless tragedies,
misery corrodes like corrosives,
lawlessness without caution,
insanity without option,
hell is incessantly let loose,
for safety you may never choose.
Men of beastly testosterone
on vulnerable women predate.
******* are pervasively birthed;
the seed of hate and discord is sown.
Each course is decided by fate,
essentials are ravaged by dearth,
refugees to distant lands take flight,
as they hope that peace will be in sight.
Oh that men will cease to wage war!
Oh that men will peace adore!
The cry of a pacifist
Joseph C Ogbonna Jun 2023
The living to themselves gossip attract,
but at death eulogies mitigate lies.
Love and care from he who breathes is withdrawn,
but his slumber does attract parties.

Fake mourners with feigned tears in burials act.
They rip off and use the grieving as pawns;
Their loss is their gain, their tears their laughter.
To fill their stomachs, they sob and flatter,
as they to misery dance, from dusk till dawn.

Whilst alive, at my deeds everyone frowns.
But at death, I am a departed 'saint'
whose sepulcher you spray with costly paint.

If you must celebrate me, do so now.
Do not in reverence to my casket bow.
Visit me now in my ramshackle house,
sharply rebuke me if you have a grouse.
Do as much you can to show you love me,
do not when I sleep go on bended knee.
Never belatedly show your respect
by attending my funeral in retrospect.
The lies and hypocrisy of African funerals and the burial of the dead.
Joseph C Ogbonna Sep 2023
As information is sourced, we knowledge add.
Entertainment is accessed by each ipad.
The cost of research is by the net reduced,
whilst addiction to **** is by it induced.

Banking transactions are by it made easy,
so does the convenience of a shopping spree.
We conveniently send mails by speed of light,
and connect to old buddies beyond our sight.

Its flash of lightening promotes the breaking news,
so does its ill wind the fake ones for our views.
It mocks distance with commercial activities,
and lures perverts to their ****** proclivities.

It does our world flatten with mobile services,
its not by distance hindered for con men's vices,
neither will it the distant swindled protect.
It does the deeds of distant bullies perfect.

Transnational love has by it been produced,
when love birds electronically are introduced.
Global link that binds us all like a cobweb;
Old and young alike, each enslaved by the web.
A poem about the internet. Its pros and cons.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jul 2022
Bloated belly, swollen cheeks,
and a sunken stiff neck on robust torso.
Yet well fitted in flowing apparels;
falling and being raised frequently
from side to side.
Obscene opulence is your delight,
your prestige and your pride;
amassed unlawfully by the pen,
ever wet for your deception
and thievery.
The flight of your spoils of office
enlarge the shopping Malls and treasure houses
of the Occident,
leaving your covetous people
deprived of earning power.
To arms they take at boredom's peak,
whilst your virgins and maidens go a-*******.
Still, you in your sinister acts of re-election,
widen their capacity for Evil, just to have
your sit-tight bid guaranteed you.
A satire about Nigeria's corrupt political elite.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
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.
A poem about the proud Peacock
Joseph C Ogbonna Apr 2020
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.
A belated Christmas poem I composed in december, 2019
Joseph C Ogbonna Feb 2023
In seventeen sixty nine a child was born
in Corsica, Genoa's former vassal state.
Prior to his birth, his land had been war-torn,
Paoli's resistance did his birth predate.

At school, his geometrical talent was inborn,
and he was tutored by none other than Laplace.
For his accent, his peers at school laughed him to scorn,
but fortune would elevate him from grass to grace.

With his much older heartthrob he tied the knot;
much to the chagrin of his own dear family.
For the heart of Josephine he relentlessly fought,
and at Chateau de Malmaison they lived happily.

Later he would choose a military career
that would take him beyond the Corsican frontier.
France's revolution saw to his glorious rise,
when at Toulon, he took royalists by surprise.

To Egypt he led a dual expedition
of a military and scientific mission.
To France he returned and sacked the directory,
taking charge of the affairs of state and treasury.

Europe did contend with him in seven coalitions;
at Austerlitz he subjugated two nations,
at Marengo, Austria on her bended knees fell,
at Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to victory bade farewell.

At Borodino, Russia met her nemesis,
as her vanquished forces saw their paralysis.
At Ligny, Blucher like a beaten canine fled
with the terribly smitten forces he once led.

Portugal's sovereign lord to distant Brazil ran,
when like an invincible lord he came to his realm.
The emperor he feared, and made no military plan;
thus he paved the way for him to ascend his helm.

But despite his triumphs, his weakness was exposed.
At Rolica, his troops a major set back saw.
From Leipzig he did to Elba's island withdraw,
from whence in 1815 he returned unopposed.

Russia's wintry plains did his grand armee deplete,
making his troops vulnerable to a future defeat.
After the famous battles in which he gloried,
his great ambition at Waterloo was buried.
A poem about the life and times of the French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte 1769-1821.
Joseph C Ogbonna Mar 2023
I am the sun, I energize your day.
I speak expressly to the humid air;
'dry up for a day that is bright and fair.'
I command moisture to dry the lush hay
for non-ruminants to be well nourished.
I am ageless, and I am distinguished.
My golden rays have living things enriched,
my yellow rays induce the labourer's sleep,
having toiled so hard for his family's upkeep.
The flower smiles at my usual advances,
and with her fixed gaze, she makes no glances.
My loving rays speak with no utterances.

The day flourishes with my assistance,
as I serve from my celestial distance.
My service to you, none else can replicate.
Without me, life-form will from the earth vacate.
A poem about the sun
Joseph C Ogbonna Oct 2023
Just take a good look at me;
My frame is attractive!
It does the unsated
appetite of the chauvinist
fuel.
My curves and your fantasies
are mutually inclusive!
Without them, dreams
are truncated.
But I am an *******
symbol.
The self opinionated chauvinist
designs me in his sub-conscious
to serve and be utterly subservient.
I am incarcerated as a chef,
and timeless baby sitter.
A baby machine for a
patriarchal dynasty.
My education is a threat to chauvinist ego.
My ignorance hones his misogynist confidence,
whilst my erudite head
retards his self esteem and worth.
The illiterate ******* symbol is his
ideal and virtuous woman.
The smarter and more professional
is the age-old Jezebel.
My chastity and virginity
are twin virtues of a
mutilated genitalia.
My restrained *** urges are
designed for his unrestrained
proclivities and gratification.
I must be restrained,
for him to be unrestrained,
because, share him I must
with two or three others of
my kind.
But take another good look at me,
and see a versatile womb-man!
Translate each prejudice of yours'
and see my remarkable antonyms.
Oppression of women
Each long lost dream
of conquest in the
ashes of history
is buried.
With it lie the
cracking bones of
sacrificial pawns
forever to oblivion
consigned.
Celebrated as nothing
more than the unknown
soldier, who for the
ambitious and self-centered
imperialist, gave his own
dear life.
A soldier unknown who
gives his own blood,
to elevate his general
to history's indelible
annals, decomposes to
oblivion with neither
a name nor an identity.
He spills his own blood
for a glorious title on
his chiefs to be conferred.
His valiance, bravery and courage
are all to his commanding
general credited,
who in unmerited triumph,
robs him of his military
ingenuity.
Dishonoured in death,
his unidentified remains
are crammed with the bones
of others like him, in
catacombs of mass graves.
Whilst his imperialist
general, to whom he
gives a name in history,
gets interred in splendour,
in a stately and Palatial
mausoleum.
A realistic tribute to the unknown soldier.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
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.
A poem about the Butterfly, one of the most attractive insects on earth
Joseph C Ogbonna May 2019
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.
Another love letter depicting Napoleon's love for the empress Josephine de Beauharnais
Joseph C Ogbonna Nov 2019
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.
Christmas to my sweetheart
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
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.
A tribute to the late Princes Diana(1961-1997). Composed in 1997 in her honour.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2020
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.
A sincere wish for my beleaguered motherland
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
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.
Wole Soyinka, Nobel prize winner for literature(1987)
Joseph C Ogbonna Oct 2023
I am a *****
I say it with pride
I cannot my colour hide
its radiant blackness does glow.
I am tropically designed,
and from taunts I am resigned.
I love my natural label,
it rings my pride like a bell.
My frame is black and lovely,
I am feminine and curvy.
My rare Baartman's curves are awesome,
despite my colour being 'loathsome.'
My labour in the scorching field
was worth a trans-Atlantic risk.
I enriched the west with my yield.
My hard labour did slip my disc.
I am Africa's black gold,
and on this heritage I hold.
I am black and proudly so,
that is who I am, a *****!!
Black Pride

— The End —