PLEDGE TO NIGERIA
By: Adigun Temitope Idealism


From between heaven and earth stand a perilous place
Where poverty kicked us on face
Tears stand as our drinks
Where hunger eat up our meals
Our pain is a poisonous laughter
Where sadness becomes our daily activities
Where hardship becomes our ambition
And sorrow our career
Still, we need to pledge to Nigeria

Blood, bone and oil,
Are the pedestal of earth
Where killing is a lifestyle
And ****** a hobby
Where humiliation becomes our take home
And misfortune our store-house
Where graduate works by the road-side
Where poverty is titillating and titivating before the mirror of our land
Yet we need to pledge to Nigeria

Pledge to Nigeria
Even when the birds refuses to sing,
When moon dims its light,
When our days turn into nights
When sun fails to shine
And flowers refuse to bloom
When life fails to give reasons
When dreams refuse to forgive
When the weep inside birth the smile outside
When tears wash hope from our sight
Nigeria must still be pledge to

I pledge to Nigeria
Not to be one if the ambassadors that sing the National Anthem with a teleprompter smiling at them in a shameful tears
I pledge not to be a naked masquerade dancing at the village square
I pledge to steal government money for the poor when I become the President
I pledge to be loyal and not betrayal
I pledge to fight off vices and calamities with my pen
If democracy must to end
I pledge to go crazy to stop it to the end
If civilization was to make us stupid
I pledge to swim in stupidity not to be civilised
I pledge, I pledge

©2015 Adigun Temitope Idealism (Deacon)


#Muse #PurposefulPoetry #BPM #IIB #Asaplanet #ThoughtAndSociety #Poetfreak
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@blackpridemag1

This is not a poem, in sorry for that. I just wish to ask if anyone that is still on poetfreak, what has happened with it being closed as of today? Poems can be saved but it seems it's life has been taken early.

I remember my first time writing on here
I was nervous, scared and a tad naive
This is my stomping ground
My battling
My push to give my everything
The constant vibrant words being heard
Now a poet grave yard, deserted
I miss my poetry home
The loud boisterous words constantly being thrown
I came back
It's my dysfunctional love, all I can say to that
I feel Sentimental, never wanting to leave
There should be no reminiscing about poetfreak
Although, we stand here grieving

So it's been 3 months here,
I still don't have all my gear.
But through all our lovin',
I've put a bun in Alice's oven.
We don't know how long ago,
Just that she is late on her flow.
We did a pregnancy test,
And the news came back the best.
So we tried 2 more,
Each time my jaw hit the floor.
All I know now is she is my one,
And it's time to start the fun.
So as poetfreak dies,
And everyone cries,
I let out tears of joy,
With a smile most coy.

Welcome to poetfreak manor
everyone's welcomed here
as long as you never speak
about your anger or fear

please keep down the noise
we like it nice and quiet
please do not speak too loud
you just might cause a riot

we like to talk about flowers
or talk about the lord
we don't care if you're different
we don't care if you're bored

====================================================

Welc­ome to our poet's humble haven
you may hang your hat on the door
but first, is your soul worth savin?
first, what exactly are you here for?

we are intolerant to other's belief
we bow to only one holy grace
likewise thinkers are such a relief
anything else is way off base

please join us in our holy crusade
and do not show an individual voice
your opinion is far out-weighed
this is our site, this is our choice

This is a series i am doing about people at a tiny site, that sit there and condemn others all day long. Since i am an activist, i am trying to change it. I am not talking about all religious people, just the bad ones as i see them. After all, couldn't a non-christian see them more clearly than they see themselves?

I'm not a poet; only a poetfreak.
I know I won't be put in books
Or go down as a great like Poe.

But I don't care, because I don't need to impress
I only care about making an impact to you.
Yes, you! The one reading what I type.
You're all that matters to me when I write.
I don't refine my poems, I leave them raw
Which means I'm not great at all
Unless you like sushi or steak tartar

This was written by a friend if mine on poetfreak,but unfortunately the website has been shutdown. :-|

PART ONE:
She sat in the back,
Her head in a book
Oblivious to us,
and our curious looks.
She wore dark blue headphones
plugged into her phone
elbows propped on the desk
that wasn't her own.
Her hair was bright purple
it was really a sight
I had never seen hair,
so purple or bright.
The room filled with whispers
'till the teacher walked in.
We all quickly went silent,
waited for class to begin.
He talked about integers
but I didn't care.
For my only focus,
was on her, and her hair.

PART TWO:
Class soon finished,
with the sound of the bell.
We all got up to leave,
she got up as well.
She grabbed her bag,
and marked a page in her book
then she left the classroom,
without another look.
I could see her in the hall
of course she stood out.
there weren't too many kids,
with purple hair about.
But then she was gone,
she'd walked through a door.
and I was left staring
at where she'd stood just before.
I wanted to follow her,
but I didn't dare.
I'd grown far too curious
of that girl and her hair.

PART THREE:
School became exciting
it was never a bore
for now there was a girl
who wasn't there before.
I woke every morning
desperate for a look
at that purple haired girl,
reading one of her books.
I almost talked to her once,
but my courage soon passed
so I settled for seeing her
in Mr. Loo's class.
Where every now and then,
I could get in a quick stare
at that beautiful girl
and her beautiful hair.

PART FOUR:
We talked about her,
my friends and me.
About the purple haired girl
and who she might be.
She was a mystery to us,
turned our grade upside down.
And yet I was happy
the girl was around.
Soon it all went back to normal
and they all no longer cared
about that mysterious girl
and her mysterious hair.

PART FIVE:
November flew by,
then winter break came.
and still I didn't even
know that girl's name.
But I knew her face,
and I knew green eyes.
I knew there was a real girl,
behind that purple disguise.
I knew all her classes.
I knew she walked home.
I knew she didn't talk to anyone,
she was always alone.
I knew she was pretty,
in a purple-haired way.
And I knew she was always
the best part of my day.
And above all I knew,
I could no longer just look
at the purple-haired girl
as she looked at some book.
So that first day back,
I got out of my chair
and walked up to the girl,
with the bright purple hair.

Once a proud land of
of purist words
and poetry .
Now has become the land
where the trolls roam free .
They have caused
the Unicorns tears to flow .
Now they will die within the hour
didn't you know .