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               Once upon the night skyStood a frigid breezeAloft a dusty clay groundReminiscent of melancholy days cresting through the valley of grins and grimaces. I am between the past and the now.Am not taking sides,but I’m pinched each time there’s a good I failed to do,or where I reacted when I should have responded. CanContinue reading “FATE”

      Words swell as if to rupture my soulFrom the place where once  one coal breathed flames of passionthat did sooth my noble intention. Words once danced in that fire place, wearing a cape of rhythmAs two hearts did kindle It was our favorite spotBut now i retrospect with a sharp cutAt the glamour weContinue reading “My search is on”

There’s nothing more painful than a fresh cut on an already scared soul. The present hurt hurts more, because it combines the energies of past hurts. But never let anyone change you cos of the way they treated you. If you hurt people cos other people hurt you,then you ain’t better than those who hurtContinue reading “Quotes”

There’s a river up aheadA river where he can empty the dregs,from the cup of hurts.A river right there in the mountains of loneliness, where the wind blows boisterous. There’s a river up ahead.A river,where he can lean over to have a drink from his  futile journey in the woods of love.This river must beContinue reading “There’s a river”

                     When I cannot leave the security of my room,When I can only find solace within these walls of silence,I find that my pulpit is beyond the regular wooden figure you see in church. When I want to empty my mind into the jar of time,When I wish to stamp how I feel without theContinue reading “My pulpit”

The writer is a sculptur,His pen is his chisel,His words are his engravings. The writer is a physician,His words are his tablets,With them he soothes aching souls. The writer is a musician,He writes the melodies that feed the souls of men. The writer is anything,Anything at all he wants to be! If the writer isContinue reading “The writer”

“Spoken words are like  spilt salt,they are never all gathered,no matter how much you apologize. So the next time you get really angry,don’t say a word until you calm down” John gentle

They are the  blood fuels that run our metabolic locomotives. Memories are intangible but affect us in the most tangible ways like time. Life is nothing without memories; though they hurt us and heal us. Nothing hunts us like the good we failed to do.Use your ‘now’ well for they become your memories later..

               Shush!..quiet please!..I’m soliloquizing.Through the lattice of the window of my thoughts, to my outward loneliness;“Words fail to articulate thespeed at which my heart palpitates when I think of loosing you”[my soliloquy] Mother, i tabernacle by this beach.Somewhere in a vast distant land,in the north pole of my brain.Here,am caught in the time portal betweenContinue reading “DEAR MOTHER;an ode to Mrs Josephine oguzie.”

By azoronyeahu uchenna gentle I am the one who robs you in broad day light,though I carry no guns or machetes; i use a more superior weapon-your consent! I am the one who says you need not spare a care for I take things mare. You resist me a little but I always win inContinue reading “Robbed with your consent”