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Showing posts from November, 2017

SENSITIVE THOUGHTS OF NATURE | John Kelechi Uzoma

SENSITIVE THOUGHTS OF NATURE.

Look around the noisy home,
  Look up-to-down the whistling trees,
See the smiling sands dancing to Rome,
  Oh, see hunger flogging homes for free.


Hopeful disposition creates confidence,
  Fearful courage walk along with pretence,
Imagination now speed up expectations;
  Even the good side and the commotion.


There's a story poets yearn to write,
  There's a black tale poets weary to write,
Yes, they've written it on all corners of the cloud,
  Read it and watch your footprints on the ground...


Lo, nature warms blood...
  as though with excess of wine,
The sun is hot tempered...
   yet, it's service are positive incline.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR



JOHN KELECHI UZOMA fondly called Kelly Juuz is the founder of Nigerian Elites World(since 2012) on Facebook, for all literary activities and promotions. He has written a lot of poems, stories(published and unpublished), motivational and inspirational articles,  published on several websites and blogs around the world. He ho…

A GLIMPSE INTO THE TWO WORLD | John Kelechi Uzoma

A GLIMPSE INTO THE TWO WORLDS

A quick look into the deep well,
  I saw the cloud swimming.
Smiles had blown up my cheeks
  whilst quite stable stood my feet.


Again, I saw the eagle in the well,
   flapping its wings but drowned not,
A huge fear hugged my statue,
   yet, I stood as one being halted.


Quickly, as I looked upon the sky,
  i saw gallons of smokes racing,
As i slept in mute just to imagine,
   my head swelled so high.


Then, I walked off the well side,
  terrible could be life after life,
But life after death, is like feathers...
   logging into the mud for ages.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR



JOHN KELECHI UZOMA fondly called Kelly Juuz is the founder of Nigerian Elites World(since 2012) on Facebook, for all literary activities and promotions. He has written a lot of poems, stories(published and unpublished), motivational and inspirational articles,  published on several websites and blogs around the world. He houses more  academical awards, talent titles, such as; secondary school teacher, a radio broadca…

EMOTIONAL IMPETIGO | John Kelechi Uzoma

EMOTIONAL IMPETIGO

All I could do; creeping,
  because you pushed me out
I kept on pleading and weeping,
  as you reckoned me a tout.


Galleries of beauty abound;
  wherein your smiles appear
But racing was that of the cloud;
  wherein your voice interfere.

My pillows became stones;
  very itchy and sadly worrisome
Yet, I look out all corners for you,
  yawning for just a-new you.

How long do this soul live,
  how well could heaven seive?
Ah, death is no way near;
  yet, all I could do is to tear.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR



JOHN KELECHI UZOMA fondly called Kelly Juuz is the founder of Nigerian Elites World(since 2012) on Facebook, for all literary activities and promotions. He has written a lot of poems, stories(published and unpublished), motivational and inspirational articles,  published on several websites and blogs around the world. He houses more  academical awards, talent titles, such as; secondary school teacher, a radio broadcaster, et cetera. He is a salient prolific author in the literary world and bey…

LET THE YOUTHS YEARN | John Kelechi Uzoma

LET THE YOUTHS YEARN
Weep and wail, you young youths;
 roll in the spirit, you shepherds of GOD,
At this time national conflict shallows;
 some will fall to rise and some to six feets.


The priests shall flee to nowhere,
  the killers no route to escape anywhere,
The tumult roars mightily against the land,
And judgement shall veil on all mankind.


Oh land! hear the cry of writers,
  wailing a-loud from hills and caged chambers,
Oh earth! hear the weep of the shepherds,
  for the LORD may rage with exceeding fire on all defaulters.


The peaceful lambs will be buried waste 
  because of the fierce anger of the Almighty,
Like a lion king he comes against oppressors
  and the green land will become desolate.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR



JOHN KELECHI UZOMA fondly called Kelly Juuz is the founder of Nigerian Elites World(since 2012) on Facebook, for all literary activities and promotions. He has written a lot of poems, stories(published and unpublished), motivational and inspirational articles,  published on several websit…

OZOBULU VIKINGS TO ABYSS | John Kelechi Uzoma

OZOBULU VIKINGS TO ABYSS.

Oh souls enduring pains of the dead,
  your heart suffers injury and pain,
To you all, sages write... Weep no more,
  for paradise shall console you...

To the messengers of tragedy and anarchy,
  writers write you all as enemies to charity,
Prophets curse you all to hell-fire...
  for there; lay your eternal satire.

Because of your deadly guilt and sins
  some souls salivate revenge and war,
As your pain wear you all with no cure
  so hot and hurt shall steam your skins


All enemies of the nation will go into exile,
  all who kill innocent shall be killed by the spirit;
As soon, peace will sail about our walls,
  and fortunes will brand our outfits.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR



JOHN KELECHI UZOMA fondly called Kelly Juuz is the founder of Nigerian Elites World(since 2012) on Facebook, for all literary activities and promotions. He has written a lot of poems, stories(published and unpublished), motivational and inspirational articles,  published on several websites and blogs around the worl…

TEMPESTS

TEMPESTS.For Abdulbasit Olasunkami





You cannot see the walls that part
you with another world if you
haven't live. and you cannot see
your smile without feeling from inside.

You have worn a body today:
the preciousness of afterbirth —
a host of pearly mothers, because
your brightness/success is sacred.

You are another world, beloved
because you are yourself at night
when you are as the naked night.
your manhood struggles, it is you.

It struggles for a reason and
you're a purpose. you're nobody
yet a tempest longing for calmness
cos you can only make yourself.

Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

FEAR FALLS | Ahmadu Usman Ode

FEAR FALLS


A pale page 
carrying questions 
floats
Across the Nile, 
in search of grief
Planted on fertile famine,
Before our daughters sang 
Sour songs along the pathway —
While they walk with their ears to
Dump their anxiety in the bank of
Benue, where their clay pots drink
The life that runs in its stretch marks.

While their hearts grow through their necks- as 
They seek freedom in the womb of fears,
Answers to their questions fall
Like harmattan rains.

Upon this land where grief grows;
Goats chase lions, lions eat grass,
Lions cast cracks on creeks
With cranks and crafts of a fertile grief 
While corpses lie in the rain like Rwanda's dark pride.

We grew here;
Where herbs hurt herds and
Cure only the sins of our
Ancestral sciences. As we
Became slaves digging our old graves-
Where underdevelopment seems
To spread its mat of harshness
Upon roofs. And we, proud lions bowing to goats became.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR





Ahmadu Usman Ode writes under the pseudonym 'PoetiQue' and Odu Ode. He is from Nasarawa State, N…

SCARS | John Chizona Vincent

SCARS
My father's tattered house breeds red demons,
and my mother's kitchen feeds black spirits, 
We grew up loving demons and black evil spirits that flies in the afternoon.
Our neighbours keep their eyes away from us, 
They shut the eyes of their dogs when ever we are passing by,
Even their goats know the sound of our footsteps. 
We become sour and bitter to their craving eyes but our faces are always friendly,
we draw the lines of fear in the hearts of our neighbour's children.
They run and run and run with despair 
At the sound of our chorus. 
They assumed we carry demons and spirits in our pockets as we walk by.
They fear the lines on our faces, 
They fear the jigida on our arms, 
They fear the marks on our forehead,
They curse the morning to pop if we were the first they see;
They fortifies the sand in front of their houses as father's footprints plant on them. 
They call us unprintable names with
A flammable  tongue.
We wear shame and disgust around our neck chameleoning like the …

ILLUSION | John Chizoba Vincent

ILLUSION 
And this picture on the wall of my heart told a story of men giving birth  among themselves in the north promiscuously...
Sipping memories from the lungs of the  girl child.
They were not ashamed of the little ones watching their nakedness which howled at them mannerlessly.
We bathed the oceans again and again,
We made the sand shone like the moon,
We washed the sky daily to see clearly of what the earth has in stock for us.
We painted the earth and added more colours to the chirping rainbow.
Life became wet in our palms because we saw images and figurines of women  whose shinning womb were made abnormal  by men of yesterday.


And mother told of an innocent girl that killed her father, mother and brothers,
She was patted by the king for doing so,
As she told this ear breaking tale,
we saw the rain emerged from the ground instead of the lonely idle cloud that watched us through different mirrors.
They said we'll live forever on paradise,
They said there is heaven and hell…

SURVIVALS | John Chizoba Vincent

SURVIVALS
We are all from an Osucaste,
those prepared for the gods of the land but rejected by the sun. 
The sand we march on are our brothers and sisters, who were discriminated too. 
They died a shameful death leaving their shadows behind,  
Leaving their spirits wailing at every dustbins that modernity brought. 
Leaving an awful images behind doors;
Leaving their emotions on the bodies of the sky to hunt and hurt us. 
The noise named us into death and we smell silence through noise of death, 
Discrimination tamed us and we tamed the firmament  of the smoke that chase us. 
You can see the ghost of my fathers in that smoke going up there, 
You can retrieve the bleeding tears of my mother from the wind, 
You can see the broken words of my sisters on the palms of the stars;
You can still see my brothers' virgin fears hang on the cloud,
They died through this course, Osu!
We will gather this cowries of Osucaste in Igboland. 
Part ways for the fierce spirit of ogbanje for the punishment of this cult…

VOID | John Chizoba Vincent

VOID
Is there really a beautiful heaven?
Is there a red and black hell for sinners? 
Basking on this,  I told myself that the beautiful heaven is this we see now, argue with the sky and cloud on this. 
Father Francis told us that there is no heaven, 
Pope Thomas told us that paradise is within our hearts,
and those who fall and fall on the altar of deliverance are miscreants.
We believed him on a platter of Sunday school morning.
He gave us lies and lies of truth about the World Series of lies. 
In this pantful world where children wear disgrace, 
In this world' voodoo where sorrow back treasures of preachers, 
In this train of earth where girls wear tears, 
In this shattered world where our pride are whore,
Nothing is precious under the sun and nothing that the sun have not seen.
Man is home to himself and have choices about himself. 
The clergy men that had their skulls littered in the evil graveyard of my village can tell of this. 
To this voidness,
To this coldness, 
To this yonder of shattered…

SPIRITUAL SONGS (Trilogy) | Adeniran Joseph (Prince Joe)

TRILOGY
SPIRITUAL SONGS:
OUT OF BOUND:[For people living out of revelation]

This world is coming to an end, soon;
Just watch how it will cloud your 
eyes into a dirge - song —
& how it could fall on your chest 
like a wall broken for autumn.
Because soon:
you will feel not your body again,
You will run into houses of no windows, 
& all you could find is a symbol of darkness,
Speaking to you in a white language —
But beware, you cannot understand the white language;
When your brain is off from your head. 
Eyes would be opened wider,
than the socket of a god.
You will be taught how to wear pain
 & drink your sisterhood blood too,
Everything would become too busy to control, 
Because this is not the normal sense of life.
Look, that day, a man will taste your body,
If you resist to poison your eyes
 like twin shadows —
Or shades of destruction;
Blades blasted on your funeral.
Your poem would become too wet to read again,
Your home would carry the body of a lion,
When thousand of legs clash
 with another b…

NATION'S MOTHERHOOD | For Madam Esther Chukwu

NATION'S MOTHERHOOD.For Madam Esther Chukwu
I have walked in the shadow of
a mother but the joy she feels
is the pain that I feel — that of
motherhood.

I have given her the earth, that
they be in her shoes. but her well
of desire has shun pleasure to
motherhood.

I have washed in traveling rivers
so as to see my face. but i
see her on each lines of my palm — such 's
motherhood.

I have washed in surging whirlpools
of waters, but none is like her
first blood; her precious essence of
motherhood.

I have sailed through her thought like the
rumble of clouds. and she has filled
her mind with her child's substance — such 's
motherhood.


"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Happy Birthday, Mother.
Philip wishes you well, Mother.
May you live to enjoy your children.

Born Again. for Isaac Balogun

Born Again.for Isaac Balogun

The sun is going down
upon a melting cake.
the wisp of candles fade
with the traveling cloud.
yet there is time is say;
blissful Happy Birthday.

The negro is born again
beneath his eyes was he born —
today's sun wrinkle his black face
like the sprinkler of Aladura.

Words fail me in moons of weariness
yet these are but sands of wishes.
may you be what you want to be
may you live longer and prosper.

"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Happy Birthday, Isaac Balogun
Live long and prosper.
Philip wishes you well.

Papa | Badejo E. Wuraola

For the umpteen time

I cry bitterly

And for the very first time in my life,

I really understand what pain is;

But, was it for the sadness

Of losing one's father at a tender age

Or for the sorrow that plagued mother's heart?

Even up to this day, I can't answer that myself.

Amidst the mourning, came a woman

Though in tears yet, she wears a burning rage

And with this wisp of flaming rage,

She beat mother to pulp

Cos she believed mother was the killer.

Little did she know how mother loved her husband.

Twelve years is like yesterday,

Missing you is a part of me now.

But living without your love is hatred; not to you

but for life — life is an odd foul.

When the earth kissed my breath,

I knew you are a wonderful father;

Your wife is living since you've passed away,

She lives in the absence of your midnight touch

and morning smile without another man.

Yes! She lives in the solitude of your departure.

All she cares about is your seven fruits —

and she has vowed without moving …

PHASES For Zephaniah Zacks Micah (Scoufi)

PHASES.For Zephaniah Zacks Micah (Scoufi)
You are the real world:
your pavement is you;
the snow that strips you —
the naked sleepless nights.
you are your phases.

You might have walked in shadows be-
cause they're leadways when sun rises —
yet, you would have loved to walk in
your darkness because it is you.
you are your phases.

You are a missing language, yea —
nay! absent glances at dim dinners
cos' you sail oceans of thought while
stroking your secret hairs because
you are your phases.
(the virility of being man).
and you want to be happy so
you entertian sweet sadnesses.

But the world doesn't speak your language;
because flowers' fragnance spreads the air;
the travelling air only travels.
the world is liquid and solid —
try walking in your livid darkness
'til you find yourself.

You are your phases; wake in the
night and sleep with the eyes opened
because you wouldn't...; you're your thoughts
and your walks in your darkness is
the only path to your brightness.
you're nobody
'…

Publishing Opportunity for poets/writers, Artists/sketch artist, Painters, photographers, page comedians or comediennes, Historians, Reviewers or Critics and business owners.

Publishing Opportunity for poets/writers, Artists/sketch artist, Painters, photographers, page comedians or comediennes, Historians, Reviewers or Critics and business owners.

Hi,
Philip Peace Literary World is calling for individual's submission for free publishing on Philip Peace Literary World (www.philippeace.com.ng).
It is eminent to note that Philip Peace Literary World isn't a personal blog/site, it is a site that promotes art work from different/diverse section of creativity and brilliance, even intellectual's hardwork.
It has actually come to the notice of the CEO of Philip Peace Literary World that many talents are dying/getting wasted/humiliated by those that has cheap access to it, it is on this note that the CEO has volunteered to publish poets/writers, Artists/sketch artist, Painters, photographers page comedians or comediennes, Historians, Reviewers or Critics and business owners for free.
In addition to the above, there are some individuals embedded with talents,…

NATAL DAY.

NATAL DAY.for Oyetola Grace

Your day has come again in bright
captivating belovedness,
the ruddied face of the sun has
lit your window sheet with golden
rays. i haven't seen, but i've thought of:
two images; her smiles. her tears.
but woman, you have learnt how to
wear your fears as the night garment
and keep your pleasant pain inside —
your beautiful worry is you;
yet is it that it's like a flame
of candle which withers aft'r fire.
you have hidden your tears for nights
and have wear your smiles at day
because the world is your mirror
and you see your laugher on their faces;
so you smile with them, keeping your tears.
the tenderness of your soul is
as the soft petals of mountain
lilies — the softness of your eyes.
let the world walk in your shoe, beloved,
what better world will we worsening seek?

"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Happy Birthday, Grace Oyetola.
Philip Peace wishes you an outstanding and memorious years ahead. Live long and prosper, My L…

Firefly

like a Firefly.

They say look at the moon at night,
look at the myriads of blue stars.
feel them for a second, what is
your heart desires? hold decades
that day because wishes are but
tommorrow and the mirror b'fore
you. they're who you are 'n' your wishes....
your words are like the ashes - dusts,
that when blown, they spread to the air
and dance b'fore they fall but in a
second, they have impacts like the
firefly. hold your breath, beloved,
enjoy living before dying
like the firefly. you're a flier-fly.
because your essence marks your living...

"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

THE NIGERIA BOY for Taiwo Olalere Oluwabunmi (Premier)

THE NIGERIA BOY.
for Taiwo Olalere Oluwabunmi (Premier)




We are the boys from the brown roof republic
where images of brown gold withers not —
yet, it covers us with a glimpse of me...
and memory. a boy is like the sun
that shines all day, yet sleeps without snoring
because the sun is meant to shine not ever.
and this same boy is like another man
who has lost its golden ray because his
cloth is a wet land while his body is hot
from the afternoon struggle with murmurs
of lean'ng shadows as o' dry leaves. like a young —
and average Nigerian fertile 'manhood.'

To end up in this suicidal State is
living in a room of cigarettes with
no smokes yet grayhaired like a wandering cloud
is the light of cosmos upon his black
secret hairs. and he is the cigarette
that doesn't smoke. he is man over there!
you can laugh the surges of white ocean
or the slap of traveling white rivers.
you can smile as the mountain lilies and
smile wide like the Lion's den, you can roar
as a wounded tiger but your boyho…