SONG OF THE BIRDS-------POEM By Ekemba Dawkin

Hear the chirruping of this bevy.                                                                                                              I can guess the lyrics.                                                                                                                              Yes, I am a bird too.

Across the sky from Baghdad to Washington,                                                                                       We make our flight.                                                                                                                                    Through Cairo across Tel Aviv to Palestine,                                                                                            We carry our plight.                                                                                                                                  Then to the Arabs and Abuja through London,                                                                                     To beg for our future bright.

                                                                                                                                                            Song of the birds,                                                                                                                                       Shedding tears for our right,                                                                                                                       In Kiev through Moscow, Washington-song of  the bards.                                                               Take from yesterday never time to ignite.                                                                                                 Caution with the glazing of this glass;                                                                                                       Because proudly looms the giant night

Before------POEM by Ada Limon

No shoes and a glossy

red helmet, I rode
on the back of my dad’s
Harley at seven years old.
Before the divorce.
Before the new apartment.
Before the new marriage.
Before the apple tree.
Before the ceramics in the garbage.
Before the dog’s chain.
Before the koi were all eaten
by the crane. Before the road
between us, there was the road
beneath us, and I was just
big enough not to let go:
Henno Road, creek just below,
rough wind, chicken legs,
and I never knew survival
was like that. If you live,
you look back and beg
for it again, the hazardous
bliss before you know
what you would miss.

Animal / Anima-----POEM BY Martha Collins

all of us     all but us     only

(but not us) the mammals     or only

us: animal in us     or only

the male of us:     brute

no animals     in the Bible

only beasts     as  of the field

not us:     it says    breathed

into     in our image     of the dust

anima breath     to anima

soul     but all animals

breathe the     same     one

long song     the same     air
 

Decorations----POEM by Kate Northrop

                                   (tired and high-pitched)

Ghosts have been tied into the trees.
At dawn they pivot
In the wind slowly.
Where the moon windows in
I am of those
Who can’t stand it
Kept awake, humming with trucks
While anything lunar
Won’t rut, ruminates.  Overhead, uh-hunh—
Days, the neighbor’s girl plays a game: what is?
What is dusk, she says, as the sky
ends it begins.
I play myself. What is death?  What’s poetry?  What
Is time?  Time needs no hanky, time blows by
the Kleenex flowers.  Or time’s
so slow, starry-cold, even is cold
            and sure, little admonishments.
                       .

Were you awake all night?

I was.  I was awake all night.

The Prayer Of A Simpleton-----POEM by Ekemba Dawkin

I remember, blue is the warmest colour                                                                                               And red is her loveliest anchor                                                                                                               As my jittery cold heart goes through this unyielding journey                                                         Following Chino as his battalion waded on                                                                                         Trod by carcasses, cadavers suffering, putrefying                                                                               Headless maidens fastened to stakes                                                                                                     And minors to tree stumps                                                                                                                     Even as their folks down south tore the skies with friendly fire                                                         And devoured rice and chicken,                                                                                                             Displaying whiskers like spirited local rabbits.

Dear blue, stick with red and yield to my pious yearning                                                                   At least this Christmas                                                                                                                           Everyone is home and jolly                                                                                                                     Yet mum cannot know Chino is in the battle front                                                                             Up north - east of it, in the woods of Michika                                                                                        Faced with the very foe whose best folk is death                                                                                  For the promise of a certain seven virgins-we are not sure, alibi?                                                                   

I worked hard in my heart,                                                                                                                     Communing with the spirits of my belief                                                                                               That they may come through the traps in the bridges                                                                         And the land mines in the footpaths                                                                                                     Alas!                                                                                                                                                           Blessings upon our creator for the short message that came                                                             ‘We av successfully pasd d bridge                                                                                                         we ar nw at bazaa                                                                                                                                   6km away frm michika                                                                                                                           God iz really our strength                                                                                                                       we burnt 2 of dere amo tank                                                                                                                   though we lost 6 soldiers.’                                                                                                                                       

And my response                                                                                                                                   ‘Thank God!                                                                                                                                             I plead d bld of Jesus upon u n d rest of the trps.                                                                               Our prayers r wth u n in my hrt I knw u wl make it.                                                                         Let me knw if u gt 2 town.                                                                                                                     Bravo!’

Alas,the prayer of a simpleton                                                                                                             Who ever let his sibling join now in defence of fatherland                                                                 From peace poachers, terror peddlers and unfriendly fire                                                                 Pardon is my plea,Nigeria.                                                                                                                     Just grant me and my little brother,                                                                                                       A bouquet of blue and a red, holy wreath.  

from Life in a Box is a Pretty Life---Poem by Dawn Lundy Martin

Lake, interminable. I do not know where my house is. Where is my house? Summer steams by. Every border is cocked and ready. Flatten body against cool earth. Lie without sound. Be a cool corpse under wire teeth. The police are so young. They do not hear the wailing. Wailing, I’m told, is a figment of your imagination. What to know of the body’s refusal to open, of its hidden cave? Put the cave inside another cave so no one can reach it. Perspiration aches. Strain against dirt walls. I have come to you from a metal house. We had steel barriers to protect us from the sun. The lake drifts into forever. Windows here are small and I cannot see myself in them. What it is to be captured without spoons. 

(The Night Is Still)POEM----By Edith Matilda Thomas

The night is still, the moon looks kind,
    The dew hangs jewels in the heath,
An ivy climbs across thy blind,
    And throws a light and misty wreath.

The dew hangs jewels in the heath,
    Buds bloom for which the bee has pined;
I haste along, I quicker breathe,
    The night is still, the moon looks kind.

Buds bloom for which the bee has pined,
    The primrose slips its jealous sheath,
As up the flower-watched path I wind
    And come thy window-ledge beneath.

The primrose slips its jealous sheath,—
    Then open wide that churlish blind,
And kiss me through the ivy wreath!
    The night is still, the moon looks kind.
 

POEM - Whiteacre

Monica Youn

the trees all planted in the same month after the same fire
            each thick around
            as a man’s wrist
meticulously spaced grids cutting the sunshine
            into panels into planks
            and crossbeams of light
an incandescent architecture that is the home that was
    promised you
            the promise of your new
            purified body
your body rendered glasslike by fire now open to the light
            slicing through you
            through the glass
bones of your hands as you lift the light free of its verticals

            carry it blazing
            through your irradiated life

Sample book AKNOWLEDGEMENGE(for Dr Chiefo )

Without shame, I advertise my indebtedness to many, as I couldn’t be an island on this project, no matter how super I felt and tried.  However, over the years I have been resolute and determined to offset this debt and walk free, but that has been the greatest mirage of my life, as my debt portfolio has expanded and remained even more resolute in retaining me as a perpetual debtor to these gems and priceless partners:

The precious and diligent woman in my life, my wife, Chinwe & my children,the completeness of my joy, Soniru, Dumkene and Chibundom for the unbreakable circle of love and devotion they have forged around me. 

Uche my Mum,on whose bossom I was first mentored & my brothers Edward, Milton, Stephen, Dozie & their families having made life a worthy adventure and voyage for me.

My workaholic Pastor & his beloved wife, Pastor David & Sarah Ogbueli who have built a perpetual cloud of hard and steady falling rain over my destiny.

Apostle Anselm Madubuko who taught me in an hour’s encounter in Boston, USA, how to acquire the Lions DNA. Quite an unforgettable experience.

My Leaders and faithful shepherds, Gabe Anajekwu and Ken Opara who have vowed to lead me aright till victory songs becomes so loud.

The Boss and more equal man amongst men, Nnamdi Okonkwo, a man called by destiny to rule.

My humble and brimming Mentor, Prof Pat Utomi, a relationship I profoundly savour and gleam with hopeful eyes because the possibilities are so unfettered and the future so bright.

My Governor, Chief Willie Obiano who sits comfortably in the cockpit of the greatest change my home state has ever known by his sheer will, completely without coercion.

Senator Ike Ekweremmadu an icon of our times and light that cannot be hidden under a bushel.

Rev Ugo Chime who pulls the chords of the covenant at mere mention.

Nick Obodo, an inseparable and worthy friend.

The members of ACE Foundation, an unforgettable family of hopefuls and vision bearers.

My editor and President of ACE Alumni Association, Andrew Pius, a remarkable man.

Indeed, this list has no end but I shall beg permission to keep it here for now, being very sure that all my helpers on the road to this piece of work know they are on my mind, unquestionably.

OUR NEXT TEACHER (article for ACE Magazine)

                                                                

What were you taught in school, algebra, grammar, fine arts or medicine? And is that your niche today- your ace and bragging right? Are you fulfilled at your work or business? Sure?

Alright, whatever it was I am sure it was all in the spirit of excellence and pretty success and in the pursuit of righteous happiness. You were being formed by the formers and teachers so you will succeed in any endeavour you so choose. There was and there is an established, tested and trusted system or structure of education they said guaranteed your success in life. And it was true because right in your locality or village you could see your aunt, uncle, mother or father who had passed through that system and succeeded. He or she had a plum and juicy job. There were the big dream cars and houses and men and women of high society that accompanied these successful people with so much aplomb during occasions. And you were so sure like the rising of the sun in the morning that once you passed through school like your aunt or uncle you would end up rich and happy like him or her. That’s it.

So you persevered through school, and came out with what the world calls flying colours. But then you looked around and the flying colours had no wings. You stretched your eyes further afield and all you could find were fledgling moths crawling about the earthy landscape. Earthlings and even the earth itself loathed them since they couldn’t find wings to fly like the mature butterflies, and they fought back, loathing earthlings and the earth too. Strife, anger, poverty, disease, rancour, covetousness, hunger is created and the society is filled with misfits, incompetence, lack of creative capacity and industry, un-employability etc. If you think I am blabbing, ask people who can’t find jobs after 15 years of graduation, people who don’t have job satisfaction and people who don’t know what to do with their lives.

Yes, that’s the greatest call to shame of stereotyped formal education system. The system is an unfair father who brings a farmer, a doctor, a musician, a mind reader, a dream interpreter and a love peddler and judges them with one test .And when the one that is only gifted in planting yam seedlings in the soil fails, he brands him unsuccessful and lies to him saying he would never succeed in life. And that’s how the next Ota farm entrepreneur is murdered .What a shame!

That’s how much the current education system of our clime derails the purpose and plan of God for would be great men and women. But, then, God the grand planner dips into his other basket and pulls out a correctional package. Another system that applies his own principles and wisdom as contained in his word to correct the anomalies of formal education system and restore people back to their areas of calling, to their talents and gifting.

If you do not yet understand, I am letting you know about ACE GRADUATE SCHOOL which is contained in Gods correctional package. It’s a school where you re-discover yourself by finding out the talents with which God has imbued you to excel on earth. They will show you how you may not be able to attract intergenerational wealth unless you channel your energy and hardwork through your special gifting. You will learn not to be abusive with authority or government but how to subtly influence them for the change you seek. You will acquire various skills and financial intelligence. You will learn how to rise astronomically in any organisation you work and have your bosses sing your praise always.

If you will walk the next mile, pass through ACE GRADUATE SCHOOL, and work the talk with us, we would have created our next teacher. Another teacher in society who will also make another teacher who will influence a neighbour with the positive ambience he spreads wherever he goes as we continue to propagate the gospel of ACE GRADUATE SCHOOL in the drive to achieve the kind of result that if we didn’t exist no one else can. Ask our alumni Engineers, doctors, OAPs and other professionals around the world. Ask the frail and ugly looking spider how it is possible that from its anus comes the strong, beautiful, intricately knitted web threads that secure its territory and guarantee its daily supply of food. From dirt we extract diamonds.

Our College of mentors and life coaches await you with firm feet and a smile of sure hope.

Ekemba Dawkin L

The Goodly Goddess(Song lyrics)

Money, mama, is the golden goddess of wants n needs                                                                     And it is utterly totally useless without what it can buy                                                                     We’ve got enough healthy stack of it for our food, clothing, shelter                                                   And we’ve got extra too for leisure and tours                                                                                   Tell me what else we shall live for

Oh dear one give me a hand                                                                                                           Lets together stretch the arms of this goodly goddess                                                                       And bless, oh bless the forgotten women n children of India                                                             The fear stricken children of Chibok bless, oh bless                                                                         The distressed n displaced souls of Syria,Iraq n Afghanistan, oh console

You, my lover, fan my flame                                                                                                         So we shall together fall to higher purpose                                                                                       As we call to shame lack of love                                                                                                     And draw our fame from peddling love around the cracks in our globe                                               We shall grow old feeding on the number of faces we light up again - their joy

Oh dear one give me a hand                                                                                                           Lets together stretch the arms of this goodly goddess                                                                       And bless, oh bless the forgotten women n children of India                                                             The fear stricken children of chibok bless, oh bless                                                                         The distressed n displaced souls of Syria,Iraq n Afghanistan, oh console

Pour, hey soul mate, pour with me the holy petals of love                                                               Scoop, scoop n pour from the humble pond                                                                                     Scoop, pour n scatter smiles around the nooks                                                                                 Theirs is nothing more to do than this                                                                                             For the nukes have done their worst

Love again, love around, love around                                                                                             Put to shame all the blame                                                                                                             Make a fame fanning the flame                                                                                                       Take to duty the love arm of money,                                                                                               Love to heal the hollow soul n get some peace yourself

Ekemba Dawkin L                                                                                                                         28/12/14                                                                                                                               Umuikeoha

BEAUTIFUL AGAIN (Song )

I sit by your bedside pouring my eyes upon your troubled heart                                                     Babe, can you turn and pour it all upon me                                                                                     your feelings of worry pinch my heart bad                                                                                       And I am not sorry to trouble you back                                                                                           That’s because you are my worry now

Shall we mind what the press are serving us                                                                                   No,because there are gardens we have to plant                                                                                 There are giggles we have to let out on the apple shade                                                                     And remember the sun’s promise to cast our shadow long at the evening walk                                   C'mon on shake off your troubles on me                                                                                         I will carry it to the caring world

See your bed in so much disarray                                                                                                   Because your head can’t seem to make sense of the world                                                                 And your heart keeps pounding like my mother’s pestle on the mortar                                               And your tears flooding the innocent duvet                                                                                     Oh,babe, even when I am here to wipe them

Shall we mind what the press are serving us                                                                                   No,because there are gardens we have to plant                                                                                 There are giggles we have to let out on the apple shade                                                                     And remember the sun’s promise to cast our shadow long at the evening walk                                   C'mon on shake off your troubles on me                                                                                         I will carry it to the caring world

Please let me be your reason to live again                                                                                       I will gird your heart                                                                                                                     And I won’t let you shed tears anymore                                                                                           Please be my business                                                                                                                 Oh, babe you are my business now

Aaw, now, oh get up and shake off                                                                                                 Let it out from your heart and show me some pretty happy smile                                                       Oh I know the look of it c’mon                                                                                                       Show me some pretty chocolate love                                                                                               The world can be beautiful again, it has always been


Ekemba Dawkin L                                                                                                                         27/12/14                                                                                                                                Umuikeoha