VOICES OF THE MARGINALIZEDThere are voices in the dark Yearning and yawning to be heard, They are hidden, stigmatized And some truncated. See, they die in trauma and with trauma They are sick of trauma Down, downcast, downtrodden in downtown They look yonder and they wonder Because they are marginalized. Hunger, poverty, segregation, discrimination Hate, bitterness and greed against them, No one ever cares to hear or save them. Voices, chants, prayers, wishes and dreams Visions, missions and assignments They wander in chaos And wonder in bias, Life dawns darkness on them. Look, hear them roar, listen, help them soar They have wings like eagles Let them live without shackles. CHILD AND WOMEN ABUSEChildren are gifts, special gifts They bear talents and dreams Lineages hook and line along them Posterity anchors on them. We kill them by actions and inactions Abusing lives and misusing gifts, We keep them far from peace. We bring war carefully And crush them carelessly Mess them up for pleasure Ruining futures carelessly and carefully. Abuses, curses, and fates Barricading hopes and love Silencing peace and unity Demarcating the world. Children see hell, before being sent to hell Women taste hell before trekking to hell The world just hurts. But we can keep them safe Develop and love them better, Children and women are lovely Great gifts from nature Beautiful treasures to be cherished Yet we harm them cruelly. THE FOOLISH MAJORITYIlliterate men on rampage Garnering raw courage, Rolling in ignorance Causing huge nuisance. Wayward women on gear Speeding without fear, Jerking at random Wishing for stardom. The foolish majority Rising against the minority, Riding on the wings of gang-up Sliding through frame-up. Uncultured, unmannered, untrained Insincere, inhumane, insane Free for all, abusive Uncoordinated, unconstitutional, repulsive. See them in kinsmen Amidst brotherhood, See them in semen Amidst neighborhood. The foolish majority A family of bandits, The portable entity A family of dirty habits. They have a goal So dark like charcoal, They dig coal Just to burn up truths. They steal dowries And sell cowries, They swallow moons And swear by noons. FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWDWhen you are far from the madding crowd They think you are possessed, When you are far from the madding crowd They call you a witch. They call you names To cover their games, They paint you black To gather their back. See, look, listen, and hear They live in darkness Staggering in hate And swerving in bitterness, They hire mates to lay siege. When you are far from the madding crowd By being sane and sound, They cook diverse holes in whole Just to scatter and shatter. They block and mount roadblocks They are snipers and whisperers, Shooting, and murmuring Looting, and devouring. They are evildoers Doing wrong, piling up insanity, Divers of ugly trends Trending horror and terror. They gather for evil They backbite, gossip and blackmail Scandals give them blood Slandering and defamation inspire them Character assassination is their sole aim, They jubilate over crimes they perform And celebrate their atrocities. Far from the madding crowd, heroes are Giants become ashes by these foilers Legends turn crazy from them; toilers So the foolish majority sound like thunders Instigating, inciting, indicting But a day of reckoning is coming, Let them not cry foul when visited. DEAR MIKE EJEAGHADear Mike Ejeagha, your voice has taught vast creatures including the dead, the living and the unborn. You are such a blessed gift to mankind and humanity. We wish death would never find you, but if and when you go home, please thank our ancestors. We shall give thanks that you lived, yes, we shall. Out of your generation, you stood unique and outstanding. You challenged nature with pure nature and matched it with reality. Thank you so much for the brave march. Dear Mike, how did you do it? How were you able to shine so tremendously well that darkness even appreciated you, evil acknowledged you, and reality honoured you? See, your tales speak philosophies, mysteries, puzzles, and imaginations. Your tunes turn situations, and your teachings tear blindness apart. How did you overcome ignorance in such cruel a world? Please blow me some kisses, and send me some roses, let this your love over-here smile through storms as well. Your legendary style is several scores and many dozens weird. How do I imagine that you ever aged, dearest Mike? If no one ever wrote you love letters anymore, take this from me, and let it ride you home. I would be here smiling in harmony at your melodious rhythms when you are gone. Dear Mike, love knows no age, brighten up once again, you are deeply loved. Uwa mgbede ka nma. If this meets you well, it would be published in other countries to tell boundaries that generations are yet on the way. Remember that words are swords, balms and rivers...in them all, you fought and won. You came, you saw, you conquered. Mission accomplished, purpose outspoken, and destiny fulfilled. Thank you, dear teacher. Your little strange love, Ngozi Olivia Osuoha Poet/writer/thinker/hymnist POWERPower baffles me
It is a puzzle that I cannot comprehend, Power surprises me It is a wonder that I cannot fathom. Power humiliates more than it elevates It suppresses and oppresses Power intimidates and annihilates It confuses and bruises. Power keeps me thinking It leaves me even sinking, As I try to decipher All I see is Lucifer. Power shines bright Tending to bring light, But it shows might Challenging the poor to fight. Power is cruel It is a fuel Burning and fuming Killing and betraying, Power troubles me a lot. Loud, bold, tough, and rough Never getting enough Rude, crude, raw, tearing each jaw Power mesmerizes humanity. Be kind, be gentle, be humane There is God There is future Life is uncertain Mysteries abound, Take a deep breath, dear power.
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