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Letter from Austin to Lydia

Rant 0144

Letter from Austin to Lydia
Date: October 30, 1997.


This is for you that broke away from love.

Dear Lydia,
It is not very hard to believe that our intimacy is now far. We were not naive when we started but we were young but we knew what we were doing, I'm sure we did. I still can not forget the day at the basement where we looked so straight into our eye for so long; I wanted to count stars in your eye, I felt I needed to pick it. In lieu of that, I was interested at counting the number of times you'll blink/wink your eye and I, darling Lydia, I told you I lose count. Because you said you cannot stare into my eye for so long because you'll make a quicker blink/wink no matter how serious you want to seem because you are afraid, you're afraid of the connection; and we can just osculate after a long look. But that day, your confession did not matter. I remember. How we held hands together and walked to the park. You said you do not want me to carry your bag for y…
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to god be the glory

we only know how to define death:
sadness. black dress.
plaintive hymn of appreciation
on a sunday morning. to god be the glory.
a mud running on the face.
a hanging image, like a chain of web —
on the corner, adjacent the mirror of the room.
say the dead lives on,
say the dead never die.
say a sorrow is running
like a river. like a tiny thing.
a sorrow so tiny, that makes you
forget how ugly you look when you cry.
say death is the only hope of man,
that life is for memories
of our dead.
hallelujah.

Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Philip_rants 0001 to 0100 | words from the innocent mind|

Art by JayB




Art by Sarah


RANT 0001 to 0100

Writing/starting Rants is one of the best things that I could say has happened to me in the writing "world". They said a child rants, they said rant is a noise, I also said it too but this RANT is a compilation of meaningful words. You know, you only have to scream, talk, make the noise in a world that shouts or else, no one will hear you. That is, if you can't scream, you can whisper... Anyhow, speak and let them hear you.


INTRODUCTION
before you read 
Life is in stages and as we grow, we learn and see many things: some things influence us, some doesn’t; some make us and some mar us. But our reflection and definition of these things are what really and truly maters. Many things are to be done, acknowledged and accepted by us but at times, we do not even notice them, let alone acknowledge or learn from them; they end up not influencing us or we end up not allowing its influence on us because in the first place, we didn’t take cogniz…

Finally! Finally!! Finally!!! "Babyconnect" by YDT ft Xmith is out.

about Baby connect... says it's about a girl who later fell in love.

BABYCONNECT is all about a baby girl comparing her guy (who is innocently a hustler) to a yahoo boy on top say her frosh boyfriend never hammer buh later fall flat in love with d guy wen he plus his hustle and get money... Se dah one nice baba.. I comr reason wetin d girl do and tittle the song Babyconnect which means girl wey connect/fall in love because of money.


So, Finally! Finally!! Finally!!! "Babyconnect" by YDT ft Xmith is out.
Please download and let's know your view. You can use the comment box.

💥🔥💥🔥💥🔥 Issa Bangaa!!!

Download BABY CONNECT — YDT ft Xmith



Free publishing opportunity on Philip Peace Literary World for Writers, artists, painters and any other skill...

LOVE | becoming reality.

A rose doesn't wither when it is in the heart
                          but it is why a heart fades
and entwine into another like
a frond of basket.
a boy sits (in) between a boulevard
                             and waits for a lady all day.
There is no sacrament.
                                       only love
and love doesn't wait forever, it is short —
that, it sperms eternity like a façade
                                             becoming reality.
and the only magic in love
                                            is people & heart
like a candle and the wax —
                                           they (nay), it burns ... eternity.

There, in the garden of flowers
there is a favourite.
                               although all with colours,
there is one without colour, it's not unugly
but it is what the heart takes
                                             because it is simple
and it only need a heart that understands
                            …

JANA | Boss Chris

Music is art, it is an expression of things perhaps not rather said or things not needed but things that need to be expressed. It is an art of expression that gives you the opportunity to "like" a "jargon" or a "sense making record" — be it as it may be to you —.

Here is a trap jam from a Unilorin finest rapper and freestyler.  A young talent artist named BOSSCHRIS trying to prove himself worthy of been listening to has released a track.

CHRISTIAN OLUWASEGUN popularly known as BOSSCHRIS is one of the rap artists in the University of Ilorin. He is good at both freestyle and scripted raps.
This his is first track titled #JUNA#....
He called it the first banger🔥🔥🔥

Show some love for BOSSCHRIS!

How to download. i. Follow the link
ii. press the 3 horizontal dots at the right side of your phone
iii. scroll down, you'll see download.
AND
you may also only look up to the screen of your phone to see the symbolic representation of download to download the so…

There is a Chasm Between us.

There is a  c   h   a   s   m  be-tween us.
             Darkest fears visited me when
you left;
    Emotions choke my throat ...but you
wouldn't stay. You said        "there are lot
     of s e c n e r e f f i d (i.e differences)
...us    & nothing is working/will work:
            Not a talk permit on the bed
  nor silent gazes. our eyes will not talk."
I rehearsed — fever against my dark self.
I could be  d    o     n     n
                      r     w     i      g
in a sea of boiling water
& my flesh, tearing from the bone
at your                 absence.
       But nothing will e s c a p e  your lips
           save a movement of weary hands
                        against my frail face,
against the breeze bu  zz  ing like neon
on my face. in this city of window pain,
Where you can only     look. and    look again,
not wanting to wave a goodbye...
I could get b r o k - e n  by my freezing fears
& sour tears (that means nothing to you)
because you keep …