SAEFEXPERIENCE

There is a swelling storm, What ensues shall for itself perform, I'm caught up in the middle of it all, Up the ladder and down the wall, And it takes control, A sort of besom that clears my soul. The person that I thought I was I shot her dead because, The girl I used to know, Will never stay content on the low, Or watch a young heart fail, Whenever storms assail.' Good thing there is a light To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. Even in the dark I feel its warmth, In my hands, and my heart, Why can't I hold on? When that greater dream had gone. It comes and goes in waves, It always does, it always does, We watch as our young hearts fade, Into the flood, into the flood, The freedom of falling, Whipped by the storm, screaming and calling. A feeling I thought was set in stone, I let them stray, I thought of myself alone, I let it slip through my fingers, Now every lasting effect of you lingers, I'm trying hard to let go Whether i

* nwayi obi * You think she's s utterly evil! So there can not be any good in her, Why? Because you saw her drinking a bottle of Palmi And smoking several sticks of cigar. You then assume she's a either a bad person Or has committed arson. ọ bụghị otú ahụ? * ọ dị mma * When you knew about the abortion You were quick to label her wayward And promiscuous. Oh!!! The insults you rained on Her, You even wish Amadioha would take her life. * cheta * When she wanted to tell you What had happened to her. Ekwunife -do not say a thing yet- you Yelled at her. For you were not yet done with her.  * njedebe nke ndụ * Life, She exclaim!!! While she took a last look at the knotted rope Dangling down the branch of an ebelebo tree. She cried, screamed, wailed, for life has been Unfair to her, Who would believe that she smoked and drank Just to rid herself of the thought of Committing suicide. That the aborted child was implanted in her By ichie Okonta; her lat

Who is the genius??? I remember back then in school,2015 to be precise, was with my reading partners studying for our final exams. A fresher from God knows where just came by asking what 7x13 was. Honestly I was expecting a cold reply from my sociology friend,instead she was like; ''7x13??? errmmm errmmm come ooo how does the answer affect our environment? U should focus on exploring the organization of knowledge production in systems biology, which is a research approach that brings together biologists, physicists, engineers, mathematicians and computer scientists in novel interdisciplinary arrangements not what 7x13 is. I was dumbfounded,as her reply was totally off point and uncalled for. Just as i was about to laugh and scold fash at the same time, my other mate in person of Loyce made matters worse. Loyce is a political scientist. And so,he started; Fasola Nooo!!! Noo!!! Nooo!!! Listen to my argumentum propentum, u see, 7*13 looking at it from the poli

HE 4 SHE One stereotype here another there, Calls what ought to be a human right a privilege, To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere, Rights and freedom, over sacrilege. Do you need the opposite sex to validate your self-worth? Being glad about a new foolish quiet mirth. Men sometimes don’t realize gender inequality is their issue too, They see expressing emotions as a sign of weakness, The injuries that to yourself you do, A little bit of outlaw, a little bit of Jesus. Why can’t men express emotions and be what they please? A buoyant Spirit and a heart at ease. Men who need women to get their shit together are not attractive, Women who need men to be happy are spoilt little imps, Would that your brain was as active, You will realize the difference between a child and a shrimp, Why should everyone learn to cook and do household chores? So you feed yourself, your loved ones and be self-dependent. I had a friend who became a stranger,

  We have sought after life, Right from the point when we, tiny semens Inside daddy's two pride bags, Have to fight, so we'd survive.  We have learnt about life, From the point of fear, Where adults screams lingers,  And our inner voices tremble.  We became older and our voices too,  Like waters,  we flow, Casting off all odds,  We ignited a new beginning. We like the iroko tree they say can withstand  The tempestuous music of the wind. But can't resist to be taken aback by the  Many dance steps of the storm. By  Godwin Henry Osaigbovo (Pa Shakespeare)  Jegede Dawal Joseph (joejegz)  For SpearePoetry AshGreyMovement

 We strive to create a community that balances the needs, safety and interests of poetry enthusiasts, music lovers and intellectuals. This group is simply a community to showcase your writing skills, be criticized and supported. You are allowed to post links to your works or simply paste here. Guiding Principles Be friendly, patient, and welcoming. Support a safe environment and help us to ensure that everyone follows these Rules. Be respectful: Not all of us will agree all the time, but disagreement is no excuse for poor behavior and poor manners. We might all experience some frustration now and then, but we cannot allow that frustration to turn into a personal attack. It’s important to remember that a community where people feel uncomfortable or threatened is not a productive one. Be careful in the words that you choose: Be kind to others. Do not insult or put down other participants. Harassment and other exclusionary behavior aren’t acceptable. Try to understand why we di

This message goes to east and west, There´ll be a Poetry and Award night, To north and south and all the rest Wake your soul to a holy calm  delight   Exploring the african experience is our quest You want to be a part of it? Be my guest

​Twas like every November before it,  But this one came with an air of uncertainty, For the drums of celebrations had halted in may. When Owen celebrated his second birthday. Fate was finally smiling at  Evbareke Those around her had thought,  For indeed she, the child whose mother abandoned just nine months after her birth.  And left in the care of her sick father, Aged grand mother, And family members who cared less  For her existence. Had grown to become a beautiful girl,  Whose nature was fair, Like the back of a ripe  alimo  fruit Which falls bountifully in the Month of March.  She, the girl whose childhood  Was characterize by total neglect and Destitution had out of nothing found favour,  In the eyes of a decorated  soja  man. Fast forward to 1989. Her civil servant father died of an eerie Circumstance; a live fish was removed  From his stomach. Her life regained some sanity when The  soja  man married her, immediately after Her father's burial. He

He was always busy, serious and hardworking  Just like you.  He will get married to the love of his life Soon, just like you. The man whose dreams scared people away. Only a few knew him, just like you.  He thought his dreams will soon give birth Just like you. He would build a mansion for his parents  Just like you. Not today though, tomorrow is the perfect day to start,  he would say, just like you. He will build a home for his wife and kids  Just like you. Fantasies though, as he awaits the fate of morrow Just like you He was gifted, oh how his writings reduced  Brave men to tears, just like you He would pen down a novel that would win him the Nobel Prize tomorrow, Just like you. But he would wait for that uncircumcised Day  Just like you That an ovation will appease the skeleton of his dreams Just like you. And when things went contrary, he would blame the gods for his ill fate, just like you.  Because his tomorrow was never promised  just like you. He would sleep at night and

While you fold hands Doing nothing. Acting indifferent to the current State of this nation. Remember That in wars no one is innocent, And in one way or another Everyone is a casualty. Take out time to think, Take out time to preach peace. Do not take sides regardles  For a synonym for victims is hopeless. Pray for Peace! Support Sanity and diplomacy! Fight against genocide. Pray for the country Nigeria And    ... Godwin Henry Osaigbovo (Pa Shakespeare) For  P S F ASHGREY