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Showing posts from June, 2017

Now I Lived by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceNow I Live.The pastor prayed till he became a prey—
For scattered powder puffs the misty cloud
And baths of ritual flames suffocates, hey!
The sky is black as ink, in drift'd smoke, e'shroud
with gauzy curtains and freezing coal blood.The bang and pew of hating hearting spree
in rubble trimming of hard rugg'd weary rock;
A sacred melancholic melody
and rhythm of tempest ease 'n' torment'ng mock
of deep'ning gloom at golden shore of bliss.Heart flown in flutt'ring feathers of gloom skies
and in wasting falls of saving baskets
like floating waves and hollow sounds of flies;
Gladness gladd'ns in pungent smells of caskets
and jealous moon d'fies the sun; sad demise.Now I live with joy, in piercing of glee,
In oceans of darkness of foolish sage.
Now a breath that ceas's to breathe; like a sea
in gloom of doom like a free bird in cage.
Now I live, for each stay glooms in gloom-in-glee."words from the innocent mind"
         …

I, Akinwale Peace Akindayo (Philip Peace) just published an eBook, Dedicated to my Father, on his Birthday date, 29th June, 2017

Days are old and hours are Gold. We do things at times unexpectedly but importantly needed... I never thought of writing an eBook for my Dad, but it fell on me at night around 12 o'clock, so I decided to write an eBook.
I started writing without knowing what I want(ed) to write but God, the ever talented God helped me and I did...I wrote to an extent amidst 3 hours, I think I was satisfied.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I wish you the best of things you'll ever desire.
I love you, Dad.
Best regards, your son, Akinwale Peace Akindayo, Philip Peace


Click to download

I'm glad my ever first book to be published is written and dedicated to my father.
Blessed be the Lord...

Bonnie Bride by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceBonnie Bride.The bile to bye that's vile refused a bye
and eye of sky could sigh when it is high.
Host-high hostile ' her boast style and He sigh:
Awhile, inky sky 'll crust on an isle.The two with flappy two amidst breezes
and you with sappy fury of dawn trees,
The bleat at dusk and howl of sun pleases
the beat 'oh busk you, Bonny Bride of ease —But filled basket of summer is unfull
and winter gross is loss like a soft wool;
For sense lost in serious nonsense is full
and Bonnie Bride is ugly with a pull.For Bonnie Bride is ugly in the heart
and Gold in heart; her deary noisome art —
For Bonnie Bride hearts a bile from the start
in freezing heat and burning ice; depart.Busk you, busk you, Bonnie Bride, for the bed,
The first bed is no worth two humoured head,
Busk you, busk you, Bonnie Bride, take your bed
For your hair in cluttered bead leads your head."words from the innocent mind"
            Philip Peace

A Random Write by Akinwale Peace. Enjoy this little piece

Just a Random Write.I can't say I'm tired of your
mesmerizing sight, your curled hair
that curl my mind into a wrapped
wrapper into your subtle love.
I can't say it's boring holding
you near to me, the sensation
is like the twirling falling drops
as it send rhythm to my soul.
I can't say I'll say you're the best,
You're the paint of my solemn craft,
You're useful to my useless gaze;
For all I do is looking at
your face, it's not unwell to say
I love you, it's you that I love.
I adore, admire and feel
the echoes of your solemn voice,
I love to love you more and more.
Just stay like this, it's a sweet dream.
A sweet nightmare would be better.Philip Peace

The Girl Is Not A Ripe World by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceThe Girl Is Not A Ripe World.Our daughters are small girls not rose flowers;
That wind can toss North to East, West to South.
Our daughters are rhythmic childhood songs;
Not pop and jazz of the smooth whistling lips.
Our daughters are early stream with cold blood;
Not the sea where the Golden yellow stands.
Our daughters are the morrow; like a seed;
They're the casted twig; a lone forest's tree.
Our daughters are the tree in a forest;
Many forest will come from a wild tree.
Out daughters are the songs of tomorrow
Not the weeping Bride of Morrow's sorrow.
Our daughters are the bridge 'twixt an ocean;
They're young wool and thin drops of emotion.
Our daughters are the sharp tongues of the snake;
The bleedings of a bite. Don't give the take.
Our daughters are not unwell for they're sick;
The bees hum and pigs grunt; your teeth still prick.
Our daughters are fools, they're wise to think,
Who won't learn from the moon tales? Let them think!…

To The Father Like All Fathers by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceTo The Father Like All Fathers.When blindness obeys our sight
and frivolity is our light,
When nothing comes from something
and we became a boring string,
When there's no light in darkness
and darkness dispels a light-bless,
When all is all with all fall
and all in all is all yet all,
Tell me, are strangers strange-heir?
It's not unwell when Love's not care–
But love is love when love loves
And love is love; such's fathers loves!
He prays and smell your morrow,
He smile at your wail of sorrow
For he knows what morrow holds
And he loves when he mostly scold.
Fathers are least of treasures;
For they are found in all measures.
He once cried my solemn tears
Tears beam from my face; such are fears–
So I was an ocean with-
out water, an empty Sky's tweet.
But days by, the sun shone well
Darkness has beautifully dwell.
But lately, he's proud of me
What worth more than all it all mean?Philip Peace

Read this poem that talks of a potential father, chuckles,–My Genesis Is My Revelation by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceMy Genesis is my Revelation.I
would make a genesis like Abraham:
In feathers of weathers that flutters. I
would be the definition of a new
defined term; the string of o'er-true; of dreams.
For smile is interpreted from deep pains.I
would be the song of pain for such pleasure
is rare, blessed with pain is glad-full, cheerful.
For I'll endure nothing but pain and fun
and fun and pain, and pain and fun and fun...
For pain is a smile, construed in thin lines.I
would be the blue sky, a naked rainbow,
The world would see my small lit room; face with
smiling tears, melancholic melody–
For nothing hurts the sweetest than being a
father. So I will smile with tears and love.I
would love, it's not unwell with affection–
What 's left wasted is useful to the goat.
I would be a milk to my Genesis;
My Genesis is my Revelation.
To be a milk can be bitter yet sweet."words from the innocent mind"
            Philip Peace

Elegy To The Missing Purse by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceElegy To The Missing Purse.The wave that rolled a gentle sea
will come around to make a glee
But the fallen tide on a sea
will wither leaves and cause it flee.The land is a hunter of games
He's like the gentle wreath of flames
but when the misty air does maim
He becomes lost in his own shames.The land has grown for donkey years
The land has drunk its drunken tears
The land has lost his found ideas
The land has lost his purse to shares.The land is ruled by hungry heads
They share and sell the land seeds breads
and report distort of our dreads
And haunt our howling soul to shreds.Oh why, oh why, oh why, oh why?
You Earth, why do you let hens cry?
You put the crown and bade goodbye
like stubborn drips of gentle eye."words from the innocent mind"
            Philip Peace

Tale Of Few Words by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceTale Of Few Words.It's just a few word
that takes a while
For I've been looking
at the sun rise.
It's just a few spit
to make a kiss
but I'm the barrel
made a loud voice.
The splash of water
is just a fall,
The rushing of mire
is tempest storm.
My soul is with you
My heart's a snail,
I'm like the sold rain
I'll be your drops.
I am nobody
I'll be your friend,
I love nobody
But I love you.
We'll not be weary
cos I love you.
Why am I helpless?
You dwell in me–
I dwell in your heart.
Sadness 's happy,
Darkness flutter pride;
I see no light–
Am I in darkness?
Life is a tortoise;
It's not unwell.Philip Peace

A Basket Full Of Summer Fruits by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceA Basket Full Of Summer Fruits.A tree cannot make a forest
A forest can come from a tree.
A man can't make a multiple
A multiple come from a man.A man is like the end of time
A life lived like snake's worthless path
is such a worth of useless life
so comes the worth of withered tree.The life of man is to be lived
Not afeard nor with brave grave wave
But fulfilled like a content'd rain:
A basket full of summer fruits.When all is done to start an end
It's not unwell to say it's well
For life lived like a snake unknown
is tree without a summer fruit.The life of man is such a piece:
If you don't note let someone note;
For life lived has its use to be–
Even the useless has a worth."words from the innocent mind"
             Philip Peace

Here, Everything Works by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceHere, Everything Works.Hunger walks on the street like seven winds,
Anger dances across like myriad stars.
The land is a spring of a wet desert;
The Seeds of the earth are sweating camels.The Seeds wake to the rumbling tides of the cloud
and shiver 'neath hot breeze of poverty.
They run snakily 'midst wheels and bend down–
facing acres to plough like they're tractors.The Seeds feign as Angels while they're devils;
to rob problem seek'rs to solve their problems–
The Seeds are rust of running end of time;
Time is just a gentle wicked tick'ng tack.The Seeds are not unwell with doubled lips–
The Seeds pull triggers for papers of worth–
and face truthful bars with lying tongues because
the just are unjust, the unjust are just.Some Seeds shed blood while some Seeds bleed deep blood–
The good helped the bad, the bad soiled the good;
The innocent perish with sinners, thus
they're like stupid rain. Here, everything works.Maybe if we perish, nay, we per…

Read this crafted work, she's new in the craft and she's smoking stunt(s), read Great Friends In Dark Moments by Fetuga Tumininu

Fetuga TumininuGreat Friends in Dark Moments .
In the dark time counts of one's life,
Night tells you; truly who you are.
Friends either leave or hang around,
It is a necessary pain.
But despite all that comes along,
true friends never abandon you,
No matter what happens; they are
ever ready to walk with you,
No matter what comes along,they
surround to protect love and help;
Give million reasons to give up,
a great reason to die your death.
Great friends serve as shield during war,
Great friends are people with different
body, but soul and mind fused up.
Great friends are like the priceless Gold–
Truly,at dark times of one's life
journey towards tunnel is short,
Great Friends around; It's worth a while.

The World Is Fragile by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceThe Word Is Fragile.Through bits and bits and tons of bits
It flowed from stream to hit some hits
It's like the v'nom that spill the drip
And move the world with what it slip.The world is just a gentle clay
But made strong with the bits words ray
And yet this word that made the world–
needs just a soft breathe to unfurled.The word is a broken brown gold
that radiates wide in thin thread sold;
It's not unwell it serves no well
It's well a house where no one dwell."words from the innocent mind"
            Philip Peace

This is the truth and it's inspiring! Read The Journey Of Life, Episode 1 by Aboderin Temitope Racheal

THE JOURNEY OF LIFE
EPISODE 1. ⚫The Power Of Self-discipline.Before considering the power of self- discipline, we have to take discipline as a case study. Discipline is an art that requires knowledge, skill, sensitivity nd self-confidence. It also means the practice of training people to obey rules or a code of behaviour, using purnishment to correct disobedience. Self-discipline is the ability you have to control and motivate yourself, stay on track and do what is right. You have to discipline yourself so as to do what has to be done. If you are able to curb yourself of some irrelevances affecting your journey through life, you have reached a level where your journey through life will be meaningful.  Discipline goes beyond physical things, discipline yourself spiritually, emotionally, financially, and psychologically. It is needed in every aspect of human life, our reasoning needs discipline, if saul had disciplined his reasoning, his household wouldn't have perished. The power of…

I Love The Song Of Our Tears by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceI Love The Song Of Our Tears.I love the song of our tears;
The cacophonic voice of tears,
Of useful waste of our patience–
And melody of our conscience.We never spoke, they're the head
and we're the tail, they sleep on bed
while we fight to sleep 'neath bridge,
It's not their fault; maybe it's ours.Yet we raise our voice and chant
the sky when they cruise in wheels. Pant
we when we're done; with filled-pain
stomach we sit to cry again.I love the song of the tears;
I love it when they rob our years,
I love it cause it break my heart–
Yet unyet, we never listen.So let sorrow speak to us
and let the walls with ear hear us.
Let the thin air feel our mourn
and let us sing to our lost corn."words from the innocent mind"
            Philip Peace

I dared Epistolary... Read Letter From A One Man Thousand

Akinwale PeaceLetter From A One Man Thousand.
.
I went with the tears and hums of my kid,
I told you I am going to live with death;
I'm the fox in the lion's den, keep my seed;
If I don't come back; my blood 's sweet for death.Baby, don't cry, I told you I'm with you,
Tho I'm the fading yellow sun of noon,
And the sky is a thin thigh in the blue,
But I took you with me; mayb' I won't die.Darling, I am back and my skin is soft,
The war was peaceful– maybe I fought toys.
Darling, I'm back and I'm going back, I'd sought
for life when life is dead, but I'm ever with you.Darling, a soldier is a dead walking
corpse, but my soul is an immortal thing
that grips you like thunder danc'ng round the sky;
When you 'n' my seed miss me, look at the sky.Yours Most Loved,
Philip Peace."words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip PeaceP.S: Image is from a friend I don't know.

Read this detailed work of art titled Goodbye To Ibadan by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale PeaceGoodbye To Ibadan.Tribal marks on hills -like cracks of
bronze- wink like deep inscribed black tyre.
Raw clay huts 're reflects to ages–
Rust palm leaves are secret keepers
as they're wind beakers for soft waves–
Like of soft rose on the valley.The crack on the rocks are so smooth;
They must have lived in peace and war.
The splash of sun in the city
is a talk of the old; they lived.–
You're glorious in your odd accent;
Ibadan, the land of brok'n Gold."words from the innocent mind"
             Philip Peace

Dear Readers and Writers, I bring to you a Good news; DPW Monthly Poetry contest is here for you

Monthly Poetry Contest.
.
Greetings.
We bring to you:
DPW MONTHLY CONTEST.
D- Dynamic
P- Poets
W- Writes.
A platform for showcasing the gift of upcoming writers with a dynamic figure.
It's open to those below the age of 25 and it an awesome one for a start.
It's going to no dull contest. Survival of the fittest:
To be among the 20 contestant  for the duel.
THIS IS HOW IT GOES:
1.Write a poem on a theme of CULTURE.
2.Not more than 30lines.
3. Submit to Adeniranjoe441@gmail.com
4. Submission Ends on 11|6|17.
5.The poem must be the original work of the poet.
6.drop your digit/phone number in attachment to the poem.
About the theme; Culture:
The theme is culture'.
1. Each contestant must write what culture seem to mean to him/her.
2. Each contestant should write if the culture has changed or its still the real culture...
3. Each contestant must note in their content, how it has changed and how it as affected us IF it has really changed.
.
Meet the Judges
Adeniran Joseph(prin…

The Life Of Man Is A Story by Akinwale Peace

The Life Of Man Is A StoryThe life of man is a story, listen:
The life of man is a horse, a father
and his child: The child rides the horse and he's
abused of manners by friendly strangers.The father rides the horse and he's abused
of sympathy by vain lips that babble.The father and the child rides; yet unwell,
Parrot lips yell "you want to kill the horse!?"They walk along with the horse; no one rode...
People called them fool, and their ears are full.The life of man isn't straight, its clutched, ebbed
and circled with dirty lips and sweet mouth,
But the life is a rope to a palm tree.The life of man is a nostalgic sky
But the hand cannot touch the neck, but he
has a will to touch the sky, like his eyes."words from the innocent mind"
              Philip PeaceClue from a Yoruba Singer's record.

Review of THE YOUTHS ARE ANGRY BY PEACEKING OSUAGWU.

THE YOUTHS ARE ANGRY BY PEACEKINGOSUAGWU.
The plot of the play is one set in the 21st century  as the writer seeks to confront headlong the prevailing unsavoury living conditions in the country. Like older writers such as Late Chinua Achebe, Flora Nwapa ,Wole Soyinka, Chimanmanda Adichie etcetera, she profers a lasting dosage to such diseases as  Nepotism,Political savagery, widespread unemployment and high rate of kidnapping ,terrorism and killings that daily plagues the society.
In the heart of the prejudices are the youths. They constitute the most active population of any system. Having being deprived of the comfort of gainful employment after painstaking efforts to obtain prequisite Qualifications.
The book which remains a study pack for policy makers as well a tool for social re- engineering gives an insight to the bludgeon of neglect and stealing by political elites to enriching themselves at the expense of the electorate.
Okpokiri is a typical example of a Nigerian communi…