and I would give everything I have to see your eyes light up like streetlamps and you know that time in summer where the steady glow from daylight merges into night time and the breeze dances along the leaves of trees too tall like ballerinas; so gentle if you blink you’ll miss the sway of them? that’s what you remind me of.

you are a glow, an indian sunset and I long to be the sea your sun shine kisses and when your glow transcends into moonlight I long to be the stars who are accompanied by your effervescent light night after night and you know to me you will always be a ******* sunset when you should be rainfall: you pour down on everything I love and leave puddles;  you cause unapologetic floods in the crevices of my collarbones and attach your saltwater to the follicles of my hair and you warp the words on the pages of love letters I never sent and when you fall down my cheeks my teardrops and your raindrops will merge and for a moment we will become one and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. to be one with you. to be a ******* indian sunset in your illuminous eyes.

I keep running through the hallways of my mind and your voice is bouncing off the walls and echoing straight through my chest and there’s a thudding that gets louder and louder, like bongo drums, every time and I’m pretty sure my heart is now a gallery of us, open for public consumption and they can walk along the hallways and appreciate the beauty of our profound love like you never could.

one day you will find someone who melts your heart into your veins until it feels like the oxygen around your body is trapped and screaming for you to try to breathe, try to breathe harder and you’ll scream for them and they’ll stop returning your calls and there’ll be no texts and everything you once had will sink – almost in slow motion, almost as intangible as the idea that I loved you harder than anyone ever could – a ship where you’re the only person aboard and you’ll be watching an indian sunset like you watched their fingertips trace the curvature of your hips for the last time and you’ll realise in that moment that they were your indian sunset and man, don’t you just wish for some rainfall?

Golden shawls envelope
flushing, blending fabrics
which billow 
under the waxen blackbird's
silky braided feathers.
Heaven's vault, a celestial sphere of blue yonder,
a swirling palette of oils
suffusing and dancing,
wrapping their ringlets
into one thousand spirals
which signet shadows onto the 
slender impressions in the sog.
Illuminous, voluminous salmon
bleaches blushing black tissue
to pale primrose promising the cobalt then marrying to aquamarine.
Stained glass fingers barely protruding from aurelian pews.

I build a house of cards with the deck of hearts and present it to you.
And upon seeing all my full, red expressions of affection, you shuffle and deal out my imperfections until
one by one,
my house falls down.

Your diamonds aren't as illuminous as they were after your first sip, you say.
So all your glitter isn't really gold, you say while
shifting my diamond to a rhombus never to turn it right side up again.

Your clubs beat me over the head and cause my brain to swell with a smooth aftertaste as you
see through my lack
of a poker face.
Breaking through my walls and exposing my weak points.
Flooding over my defenses and ensnaring me in a trap
weaved only by the highest proof
and I know you have won.

Because my ace of spades has been found.
Trickling your jokers over the rocks to my hearts,
they climb over the rubble that has been laid at the ground, the foundation, the base.
And your clubs tear it up!
And the jokers, you! race to the top of the south and with your strongest clubs,
break into my ace of spades!

Pinning it to the ground and forcing it to turn around and flee!
And I can hear it! I hear it calling for me... to help us get away
but my hearts are dull and my shifting rhombi are ablaze.  
For this infinite moment in time is dazzling and my own eyes aren't aligned to light the way
to free me.

Gleaming rays of the sheen from your diamonds slice through my illusions and
wake me up to the aroma of fresh debris.
My hearts, toppled.  My diamonds, demolished.
My clubs, sleeping and my ace of spades,
removed.

And the sky never changes. The moon ripples in the puddle left behind by the design
of your jokers and spades and your hearts remain untouched.  Your spades are buried behind walls of
black and your diamonds are so far back that I couldn't tell if they were even there at all.

My deck of 52 is now a deck of 51 and without a solid set,

I'll never have the chance to play this "game" again.

Ah, Immortal, canst I say no more anything about thee; though I have not to, nor I am allowed to.. For thy heart hath belonged, and shall perhaps belong only, to someone else, forever.. And upon which realisation, still-sadly I am not enabled, by any means, to procure anything; anything t'at ought to be satisfactory to thy love thirsts, and though superficial, hungers.. For I am just, within 'tis bitter reality, that despaired, lost daughter of nature; who, despite my distaste for roses, longest to be one of thine-and thine only, but who shall remainest as the last one-and thus eternal one, forever. Oh, I am cursed, I am cursed, ah-I am cursed too bitterly, my love! As shall I, dishearteningly-and gruesomely, never belongst to any other, any more! I hath been haughtily made redundant by love, and so shall I taste and drink of joy no more; for no marriage joy is not to be dazzling in my hand; and so am never I to be, having a man as more than a calm, soothing friend. Ah, and so not any other one indeed-for the rest of t'is paltry age ahead! And not even thee! But still, that abrupt sweet star is in thy eyes; and what an innocuous, irresistible delight to every pore of my lungs, and the very charms of my senses it is, to my being-yon sweet star which is equal to truth, knowledgeable causations, and delicate forgiveness. Ah, thee, for but to my eyes, thou art the long-sought forgiveness itself; and thy lips and cheeks and tongue makest everything perfect and becoming to the grace; grace-indeed, which is hasty, but mighty-like the thirst, and merriment of its salved undeniable passions. Ah, still-but why, why am I being tortured by these feelings? For I loved thee not, whenst I but streamed my gaze into thee-for the very first time; and for I felt enjoyment not-in our sweet occasional encounters, I felt no shyness, and nor perhaps, any predicaments of curiosity, as I fixed my very sight on thy evaluative eyes! Oh, for my heart but was lazy, unlike it was to thy precursors-and fate danced not at that time, in thy eyes-in those first months, with cold air and flakes of muted snow as rapid as the morning winds that inevitably appeared, after growing out of nowhere-just like a thoughtful apparition-as we sauntered about this morning, and greeted us with its superb, ye' monstrous iciness. Ah, t'is-which is so unfair, indeed! And oh; but why? Why, my sweet? And why is it just now, darling, that I am affectionately faltered, weakened, and turn feeble-at simply making out the notion of these invincible, ye' honourably-infatuated feelings? I, whose cheeks canst now threaten myself-and clumsily boil, 'fore thus turning red-at a very simple, unfearing thought of thee! Ah, unsweet, as itself shall remain ever be! But how I hate-I hate t'is feeling of loving thee-without ever being able to accomplish it. I heart it not-and thy voice, which is elegant with scrutiny, and careful examinations-of my private diligence, as we wandered and twitched and spoke more; for it invites me so, to the grandeur and wealth-of loving thee more and more, and steering myself into this all-too-burdening, though soft-passion; o, thou, who in t'is realness is, though outrageously, is based on every single effectuality of our beings, is worthy of all the forgiveness of presumptuousness, and overflowing emotions of our due spirituality. Ah, thee! Thou, who art the mere persona of my dramatic dreams; and the vitality of my poems; thou art gentler, sweeter, and tenderer than even poetry itself-as well the miracle, ingenious window, and the sole awesomeness which it willfully illustrates. O-love, and then thy soul is duly its obedient flattering mirror, which is forever unmad, sensible, and plentiful-to my questioning soul. Thou art my carved destiny-and the river that permits my blood to flood! Ah, thou art indeed so diligent, provoking, and altogether unbecoming, my sailor! O-And thee! The ever delicate fruit of my heavenly morning; whilst thy fate was-still is, and shall for eternity be treading, and about; o my darling. Thee! Whose fragrant breaths roar with such prettiness, and laughter-so handsome to my eyes, and are a rare, enticing spark of truth when all is but lies. Oh thee! My ever illuminous, equanimious, and on the very whole of thy being-a fulfillingly-delicious star; from whom shan't I be able, for ever and ever and evermore; to stay hidden, nor to stand firmly-though glisteningly, afar.

To Gods acre caught in the storm
Of the angels immolation harried
Like welcome strangers to the feast of
The good shepherd, the world
The flesh, the devil take the hindemost
Vigilantly stalking Earthly tears
Encrusted jewels upon Hells vestment,
The harbinger of death wearing a garland
Of skulls fashioned off of Heavens tomb
Splendiferously graven upon lonelinesses
Stoop spirited as shooting stars the
Pitched candles of sovereignties saintly hands
Resting between lives enlightening the broken
Lamp of truth purging the liasing humours of
Illuminous damnation unfrocking priests
Under colour of nothingness epitomising
Faiths elixer yonder the gate of unfoldenment
Breaking butterflies on the wheel
Of rightousness unabating delving the vale
Deciduously to show the cloven hoof woe betide
The levity of Man Friday billowing in the
Teeth of the wind.



ELEETE J MUIR.

I.
There was once a tiny, fading lily
Her beauty was diming, merely,
Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia

Where wonders trapped her in deep sorrow
Where the root called her to continue to grow

Standing alone, an existence of solitude
While the white lily shall love in delight , 
Nor weeping alone or shining in an illuminous light . 

II.
Lily desires to live, in a place without pain
But the lily’s life is full of strife and strain

Hey, Rain, did the miracle come?
Look, oyster silver clouds replace dark blue skys

Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia
As the rain started to fade into the solo song
As the Lily stood while its immunity could run
Who could take one name and lead an ever gain?

Hey, Rain, the miracle came.
Listen, silent whispers shared across the air
and the rain and peacefully landed on Lily.

III.
Out of the deep trauma that every day grew
Out of the rain, the Lily was relieved that someone else knew 

Who makes her wonder,
if the rain didn’t know of the Lily’s
wayward roots
What does the rain want to know,
although the Lily hold them as emotional loot

Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia
Who is Lily as she solely sings alone in the rain?
And her heart is bleeding from the excruciating pain

Let these words embodied in tone slither inside you
like the illuminous snake in the garden,
He who would choose wisdom over blissful ignorance, come forth
Primordially flicking tongues like a fleshy breeze touching the ******* of your heart,
Making your soulgasm explode,
shaking and shattering,
The walls of this mass illusion
That you and I are separate conscious,
two brilliant waves cresting in the same dazzling ocean
Or that words mean anything at all
Follow my sign posts,
they lead to a wooden paddle boat on the muddy shore of a river
Climb inside as we slide with our backs against the dew wet morning grass
Floating in space, staring at the vaulted ceiling of stars
Beyond, behind, infinite light of time, we go as pilgrims
Once across the murky water, shimmering waves, we leave the boat
We put down the girl, whoever and whatever we still carry
We put it down, under the bohdi tree, all the arrows are slung a thousand times;
blotting out the sun,
and darkness covers us in mortal fear
But we speak in music now, we speak in flowers, and symphonies
And dilated eyes see lotus petals unfolding at the center of the arrowhead,
blossoming into divine corruption and ecstacy
so terrible that you must turn away from eternity
for now we have no answer to that magnificent shining face
that turns our hair white
We have no answer for that glowing burning face
that casts us scattered into the deafening void,
that beautiful face so terrible
we turn from truth,
we dance with death, her hair radiant,
we only are permitted to see
the stupendous *** of God on holiday
when we enter the church,
bells ringing, tolling the death of Absolute Primal Man and Woman,
unconditioned individuality, original freedom
Yet we still turn,
some taking the lead in mortal tango,
swinging to keep the beat as best we can,
and when we step on a toe, we throw our heads back and laugh wildly
And passionately  tongue kiss the mouth of our defeat
with lust and longing, pressed close against our heaving chests
because nothing really matters,
that is what I say,
because if nothing really matters,
then everything’s okay

Cursed boy why does your smile not drag,
those eye lined blisters not drip.
Those tears of anguish and heart
only slip to disappear.
Jinxed child do you wish for a home
a place to go.
Stay here bellowed in me
here in loveless limbo,
I'll deject the disease
illuminous beneath the vein.
Here we can stay alone
in this curse of loss
and loss once more.
Curse we feel abound
spinning on life's forever wheel.

Soar to the stars
Fly with the snowflakes into the immortal wind.
No specific destination just to the end of time
Boundless discovery, eternal elation.
Dance and embrace the harmonies, which surround you.
Sounds of the ruffling leaves surfing on the very current
Which carries you.

Landing is not in question as you inhale a second wave.
Take flight into the blissful night
Higher than before, rising to the sky as an eagle overseeing his kingdom.
As a cloud, taken by the breeze fullfilling it’s destiny in the infinite sky.
Open your eyes my innocent child.
Behold the wonder of yourself as you look upon the earth with a(n)
Naïve eye.

Make of it as you wish ,
Paint and tattoo your thoughts on a canvas of the mind
Embedding what you feel, not just what you envision
Relinquish the meloncholy that chains you.

Landing now becomes eminent,
Falling from the brilliant beauty of an illuminous moon.
Crashing on the concrete reality of what life truly is;
A nightmare to a dream

He moves in silence
Shows white face
hides bare black hands behind back
holding back violence

voluminous moon passes over
illuminous satellite comes closer
and his face blurs
Lunacy brings out fears

Reveals black hands
Black likes guns
that he commands, ready to attack
and there is no where to run.

1.
Travel through the woods on a summer's day,
Worries of daily chores dream endlessly away.
Captive not, are we from natures luscious breast
Soak within Apollo's warm oval'd gleamin' crest.
Captive not, as mother earth, weaves her sorcery spell,
Whistle with the wind to hear where hedge-sparrows dwell.
The passion'd view before my eyes, I restrain from weep,
For court'd law, Satan'd, bathes us in shrouded deceit.

2.
Draw the air sacred belongs to every breath,
Lack there of faith, time, now, life and death.
Makes a-wonderin' in the wood on a summers day,
Bring Milton's sirens; sing their note to the authors sway.
Five senses, being, soul, was gave human-kind,
The Zephyr bids the breeze to flutter the leaf, forces blind.
Let the trees reach high, those clouds few crawlin' slow over blue sky,
Gaze upward from a-new clearing I found, now where I lie.

3.
The song I sing you from the lazy day of today,
Brings forth illuminous colours from this wood in sunny May,
To show us all the mundane lack of our own lives,
Livin' the pressur'd tasks of Henrys forsaken already wives.
To stress surely not, about obvious waste of things,
Can't you see Constables paintings of what nature brings?
The absolute amazement, of how everyday hits our eye,
To leave an imprint, however deep, as stars roll by.

4.
Humming the tunes of Virgil, Dante, Chaucer and Keats,
Washing your bliss with the strums of nature's beats.
Scrubbin' this modern life's hectic ebb and flow;
Where's the wonderment gone from this wood'd meadow grow.
Simple treats of sweets greet our presence every time,
We open our thoughts, our minds, and enter into sublime.
Stories are told, heard, forgotten, written down;
For so this earths beauty be not dismiss'd, for worth of a crown.

you must pull yourself up
from the depths of despair
   grab onto tar like walls
that make your grip unsteady
and force your way past
   and up
the slippery facade
of dark skepticism
and worry
slowly make your way
towards the point of brightness
above you
if you falter
   **start again
don't give up
   don't give in
and in time
   with determination
and a strong desire
you will reach
the illuminous expanse
of peace
   harmony
and self love.

The land is soaked with blood
The sand is soaked with tears
Oh
How many barrels of blood must be spilled
to know that so many souls are gone?
How many basins of tears does it take
to have more than enough tears?

I am the voice of the little child
crying in the wilderness
I want to caress the flowers that spring
out of the ground of my homeland
I want to watch the ripples when rain falls
I want to play with my mates on the sand
along Chu Ngoke street
I want to sit at home and watch my parents
returning from a bountiful yam harvest
I want to stand at the playground and watch the
traditional wrestling
I want to hear the sounds of Egelege and Egoni
talking drums reminding me of yesterday
and a great future ahead
I want to chase away goats from eating the
maize in my mother's garden
I want to open my mother's ***
and pick a meat out of the soup
I want to see my homeland
Sweet little home of ours
Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode

I am the voice of a man
Whose hope lies in shackles
Whose homeland lies in broken images
A town deserted and forgotten
I am tired of begging for crumbs
When my barn is filled with yam
Mudskippers can still be found in our swamps
Please take me back to Alode
I don't want to die in another man's land
I want to die in Alode, somewhere in Eleme
I want to be buried near the grave of my father
and see my ancestors usher
me home with a shining crown
Take me back home
Take me back home

Take me back to Alode
Let me see beautiful women that
toss about the streets
Let me admire their buttocks
Let me stare at their *******,
those two round objects protruding out
of their clothes, ******* that
could make me feel like a child again
Let me kiss Nyime Owa Eleme, that beautiful
lady of my dream
Let me lay her down on my bedside and
make life worthwhile
I want to go back home and see
the sunshine with it's illuminous rays
and the tender droplets of the rain
Oh Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode

Take me back to Alode
Let me touch your borders
From Alesa to Ogale
From Echieta to Onne and
From Ebubu to the Onu Nmu where they say
the hands cannot reach
I want to touch the land of Alode
I want to touch the Eleme soil
I want to touch the soft green grasses of home

Written by
Jonah Okpabi

Well thats a use of time you think
Worth spending night for
Going places in your thoughts
Watching all time stop knot

Echoes enchanted in your ears
Colours blasted in your brain
Damaged to beauty
Edge of those pre explored corners

Everything jumps upon
Leaf to leaf, stand to stand
Trials of landed ground of prosperity

A possibility of changed colours
A realm of illuminous lights
Iridescent fights for the brightest one continues
Yet a peaceful clear view

Infinite patterns of schemes of ashes
Or the full world of tranches
Decide to take up or to take down
The way of living or the leaving.

On a scattered highway of rearranged thoughts
All was it, it was all
And in the end colours got brighter and clearer.

Gods expectorant unfrocking priests
Heavens elixir epitomising the broken lamp of truth
Purging the liasing humours of bane angels
Enlightening deaths harbinger conjuring berevity
Under colour of nothingness as shadows birth
Unabated yonder the gate of unfoldenment
Billowing illuminous damnation as
Black as thunder unforetold expelling
Transgressions red-letter day, conquested
Deciduously in the teeth of the wind
Extinguishing hand over fist corrupt valedictorianism
Delving hell for levity eluding the copious
Breaking butterflies on the wheel
Of righteousness conspiring as sure as
God made little apples to show
The vale cloven hoof woe betide
The tope of man friday

I’d like to think I am a force light ‘fusing to spark ‘ as dull is my presence’ deep within me is a light ‘ a light of hope that keeps me thriving ‘ a light of peace’ all forming into this combustion’s energy’ finding its way into a million stars ‘ as I form into this beautiful’ gleam .all that was negative is burned by the beauty of my ray ‘ all that was painful is decore with the illuminous of love

A mountain shadow reveals the subtle
personality hidden at midday
gently sculpted or roughly chiseled
a surprisingly standard life flow
eruptive growth
obstinate longevity clinging to balance
that's comfortable and doomed
to be whisked away as dust
illuminous and enlivened plants
secretly glean with the moons arrival
bundled energy ripens after years
shooting forth in a display
congratulated by the hummingbirds
skittering legs dart
for the nearest available safety
but their patience betrays them
as our eyes could never pinpoint
a flawless design
an orderly world gives way
to random angles
a method unknown to all others
the thirst is timeless
and ready for satiation
whenever the skies oblige