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…The Observer…

…The Observer…

By: Ebuka Nwachukwu

Level: 1

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I am the philosopher whose quest is to understand the state

To understand it is to understand these people bound by fate

Armed with my quill and parchment I prayed to the lord

“If I analyze the purpose of the pen let me see that of the sword”

 

But does man really need man to survive?

Did not John the Baptist live in a desert and still thrived?

Is man only fulfilled in the eyes of other men?

What was the first society? Who knows when?

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Pedophile

Pedophile

By: Arc

Level: 1

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“Disclaimer: This poem is targeted at showing what eagerly accepting homosexuality can bring to our society….The writer is in no way campaigning for Pedophiles…This is through the eyes of a pedophile in our decaying society….”

 

This is a good world for me;

Females are allowed to love females;

Men are allowed to violate males;

Hell humans do it with animals.

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Bridges

Bridges

By: Okoli Stephanie Orjiugo (O.S.O)

Level:1

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Sometimes she feels like a bridge spread across a hollow emptiness

A gateway that has been uniquely constructed to be travelled upon

Countless tires and footprints trails her sturdy road

Yet she fails to be eroded by emerging potholes

For her foundation was reinforced with the steel of love.

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Words without Sound

Words without Sound

By: Okoli Stephanie Orjiugo (O.S.O)

Level:1

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Do not toss me far too deep lest I will drown

I can only bear so much even if I appear to be a clown

You see me wear a smile but a thousand layers below there is an indolent frown

I put up a show for you and perhaps for myself; a fleeting way to forget today’s down

Look into my eyes, do not be deceived by their sparkles, they could hold secrets of a town

Yet they are pinholes that bring to light the wretched pain my heart bears with every pound

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Love Is A Choice Not A Feeling

Love Is A Choice Not A Feeling

By: Okoli Stephanie Orjiugo (O.S.O)

Level:1

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The heartbeats: lub-dub

A sound that testifies to the presence of a soul still in a body

A sound that remains oblivious to the ears; unaware of its steady pounding

Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub

Suddenly the intensity of this heartbeat is heard by your own very ears

Pulses increase, hands become sweaty, and butterflies find a lily garden in your tummy

You have been diagnosed with the symptoms of love.

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