Category Archives: Uncategorized

ONOME AKENI

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ONOME AKENI

Onome Akeni’s vocals are graceful and pleasing to to the ears and cheers your spirit man. ..

Awesomewrites

The small lady with the big voice,Gospel Asa,amongst others are names she has been called by fans.Do those names really capture all she is?hmmm…not quite.

She is more than a pretty face,or a lady with a beautiful voice, she is a wonderful person,a very down-to earth somebori,a good leader,an amazing team player,a boss who cares about the welfare of her subordinates,she has a great sense of humor and is fun to be with,plus she can mummy you sha.She’s got a great sense of style,her fashion sense ehn,na to tiff her wardrobe o….don’t tell her I said so sha.She is one person I really do admire and respect…..

I could write an entire book on her but let me stop here and let you get to know her a little.

Onome Akeni,is a PortHarcourt based singer,music minister and songwriter,who grew up in Lagos State and the fourth of five children.She hails…

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Freed by Love

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Freed by Love

We, unaccustomed to courage

are exiled from sheer delight

where we live coiled in shells of loneliness,

until love echoes our names from a distance

to liberate us from darkness into light.

 

Love finally arrives!

in its train come fresh ecstacies,

reviving fading old memories of pleasure;

blotting off histories of numbing pain.

now, we are bold

as love strikes away chains of fear

from our souls.

 

We are weaned from our timidity

In the flashes of love’s light

we dare to be brave, and

suddenly seeing that love loves us

in what we are, and will ever be.

 

It is only love that can set us free.

 

(c) Neofloetry, 2017

15/5/17.

 

Photo credit: growngals.com

DON’T STEREOTYPE ME!

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I find it really difficult to understand how and why most people are comfortable with people who live a stereotypical life. It just beats my imagination, seriously. When you decide to be yourself and not want to live other people’s lives, these same people will come at you with all forms of abusive content.

Many years ago, I used to be at the mercy of people around me: always looking up to their opinions about my looks; my body size, butts, boobs, dress sense, how I talked, walked, how I chewed my food, how I smiled, etc. (especially growing up with tomboyish traits). What I didn’t know was that I was unconsciously stuffing my wonderfully made self into a confining casket. I was slowly killing myself. It affected how I related with these same people and those I was yet to come in contact with. I was my own correctional murderer. I tried several times to murder my true self over and over again until one day I took a conscious stand to being lady-like and very different from the norm. (I am still under construction)

Every day we find most ladies trying really hard to impress the opposite sex, especially when you are meeting for the first time. You’d have to put everything in check before you stepped out on that date (trust me, the guy may not even care about the whole enchilada). I see these ladies put a false character just to grab their attention, and at that point they lose their sense of ‘true self’ (call it whatever). I have seen and read stories from other ladies who at some point made same mistakes, and at the end of the day, truth shone on them (most times they realise this when it’s too late).

In as much as Social Media is good, it has increased the rate of falsehood in the lives of many young men and women who I have named ‘internet Masquerades’ all in the name of impression and exploitation.

I believe the reason why God created a variety of things on earth is just so we all can realise how a combination of all kinds of people make the world a better place, where people can just be themselves without having to tread the path of falseness (mimickery or whatever it is called). Being a STEREOTYPE seems like fun, but it is cloaked in falsehood and has driven many to their early graves or Waterloo.

I am an advocate of ‘Be your true self’, and will always preach this gospel. It is not a must for you to get in ‘formation’ of others for you to get information about who you are. Search yourself and you will find you. When you eventually find ‘You’, do not be arrogant about letting others know, but just nicely tell them how you have grown to accept you for you.

I wish you all the best in finding yourself and not allowing others determine how you portray yourself.

 

(c) Neofloetry

NEW BEGINNING (For Amu Nnadi)

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it is dawn, and my awakened thoughts race,
driving me through a river’s journey.
i listened to the rivers speak of new birth,
and i am wide-eyed to celebrate
before the seas and under the clear skies,
as my happy thoughts stand naked watching the waves
flowing, and cascading like waterfalls of rushing emotions.

i surrendered my rainstorm of tears,
singing to this birthsong, like a mad note
burning within me; inextinguishable.
my feet found the theme of life, of beauty, of love, and dancing,
gathering dust on the soil of this grand land,
this revelation unscathed; an unfailing declaration
of a new beginning.

like the blossoming of flower,
and the succulence of tasty grapes; i see a sweet soul
like magic, enchanted; lightening all that is dark,
and all that has become religion;
like a poem simply written without questions of departure
or remembrances, or cackles of rambling.

when gods are possessed
love begins singing a tune to build a bridge,
connecting loves’ purity and hates’ ambiguity
you are never alone, like the clustering of sequins; glistening
your words are like a totem of new beginning
announcing your birth at the riverside of applause
somewhere in the forest of life
on march twenty eight.

 

© Neofloetry
(Scribbled thoughts from a collection of poems a river’s journey and a field of echoes by amu nnadi)

THIS LOVE

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THIS LOVE

Our love,
is intertwined like
the old baobab tree.

This love,
will be like the gushing
of waterfalls; unending.

Our love,
is like the clasping
of hands in earnest prayer.

This love,
will be like the aroma
of a perfectly prepared meal.

Our love,
is like neatly beaded,
braided African bride’s hair.

This love,
is the perfection
of creation…

©Edwina Amakievi Aleme.

SHE IS A WOMAN

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SHE IS A WOMAN

I

Like the parting of curtains,
Her world lay open; baring all.
And nakedness greets your eyes.
You smile, filled with pleasure;
numbing your reasoning.

Naked, you think she is;
Her dreams, far from your reach.
What breaks her heart, you know not?
Her passions, a story unfit for your ears;
Her childhood, scenes you never lived in.

Her body, a book you once found,
but never got around to opening.
Her skin, blessed with violet patches,
Each cluster, a tale of shattered dreams.

Her thoughts, you can’t intercept;
and her dreams you can’t interpret.
Her burrowed sorrows, perfectly hidden.

You mount her like unwritten visions and dreams,
waiting for the ancient seers chant.
Her features; veiled, ignorant of traces
that makes her a woman.

Deep within her lies a pearl,
A secret your lies can’t steal.
You think you have swam her ocean,
Deep enough to gather her lost treasures.

Her dripping words, you think holds no bare,
Yet, it behoves her heartlessness in masks.
Unscathed are her unashamed naiveness;
Unruffled, she walks with the gait of royalty.

You think you have seen her bare skin,
Her skirt above waistline, and thongs down;
But the secret of her beautiful heart is openly hid,
Constantly sheltered in a safe haven.

You may have seen,
but your eyes rest widely shut;
Unaware, why she is woman
A womb-man, not woe-man…

II

THROUGH THE EYE OF THE STORM

It all started like a lone seed sown,
tiered down into the soil of time,
Buried deep in the dirt;
Shut out of the bright world,
Smeared in darkness and murk,
Wished she hadn’t been left
To suffer the heat, wetness
And lies that the wind whispered.

She had lost count of the clock’s tick;
Stepping, she had lost count of Serenity’s journey,
Lost count of beaks digging out fragments of her future,
But, she’s hopeful, spreading; deeply rooted.
She saw, via the piercing eye of the storm,
Calling out her name “Woman make haste in this flowing tide”,
Sprouting like a baobab tree that falls in love,
With the wind that howled her name from the outer core.
The core that challenged her sprouting
In a world filled with blackness and sore,
Scoring timeless goal; breaking through the hard soil,
Charmed by the beauty of nature.

She began to love; one page of life after another
Loving the very moment she was cast in the dark
To one day blossom and grow stronger
Flaunting her growing strength
Still expressing her love in this moribund world,
Willing to bear fruits that will one day house seeds,
Seeds that will one day be cast in the dark soil,
Reproducing more seeds; fecund
Never wilting to becoming second,
She is one graceful seed that saw her future,
Through the eye of the storm;
Strong, willing and gracefully forgiving
All that buried her umbilical life without permission,
In this loveless world of obscurity.

©Edwina ‘Neofloetry’ Aleme

AYODEJI

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AYODEJI

The sun smiled not on this crooked path;
the one you had chosen for decades,
when barricaded smiles fluttered within
your hearts’ bars.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Ayodeji, Let me walk this mile with you,
for the world to sing our daily songs.
Let not our tender palpitating hearts squirm
at the sight of tomorrow’s journey.

Let our voices trace paths like ripples
on melted burdens;
and our fingers pointing towards fancied dreams,
that will rest; chauffeured on the rainbow’s colorful smile,
after years of teary downpours.

I want to behold your coupling thoughts,
birthing new generations.
Boundaries, diminishing at your splendour, and days
blooming like orchids in a field of greatness.

Ayodeji, let me be the reason you studied Geography,
and the purpose you chose this rock.
Let me see you travel around your past; shovelling,
and burying every wrong memory till they become
fossils irrelevant to the bellowing wind.

I want to cup your present with hands of care;
and cause other men to stare,
beaming jealously in unclad shame.
I want to rest, forever, nurturing little replicas of you;
when laughter and joy finally own us.

For you, my world will be rebuilt on honey tears.
Tears that will flow as an ocean; rowing your boat
towards my heart’s tunnel of overflowing love.
For you, the earth will tremble at our conquered feat;
a vision written on dotted sheets.

©Edwina Aleme

AT THE MASTER’S FEET

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AT THE MASTER’S FEET

How be it that seven sins fastened
Themselves to this wailing body?
Pride of the mind to remain clueless
Of the stricken woes, conjuring up images
of the past.
Spirits that thawed at my flesh
Gnawing at my daily life; counting stars
That will someday shine before the world
Not drowned in sin.
Seven seconds birthed seven hours
Seven hours evolved into seven days
Seven days crawling into seven months
Seven months singing songs of seven years
Seven years of frolicking with demons of the mind,
Wishes of the being loved beyond these seven demons.
Entangled in guilty love, my sin; of mistakes
Love misplaced on priorities of life.
Men mentioned my name; tongues unbridled
My wealth they never questioned,
But squealed at my very presence at the master’s feet.
He knew me, though I never knew this;
His undying love to set me free, set me free
From the demons that raged within,
That tore me in shreds; pieces without amends.
Here i am at the master’s feet, with tears drowning me
In the river of his unending flowing love.
I am Mary of Magdala, a city that rises in riches
A temple, a castle where I reside,
still not knowing my worth.
I am still at the Master’s feet; breathing in his life
His very life that sent these demons running
At the sound of his conquering voice.
I am Mary Magdalene; filled with love
Love flowing from the Master’s heart to mine.
Not minding what the crowd said
Not minding how their eyes peered;
Piercing like stabbing knives, hoeing out my past,
Calling me a prostitute for joining myself with seven troubles;
sleeping with them daily, from dusk to dawn.
Master, I am not in trouble
I am safe; secured by your overwhelming presence
For every sent out demon, you never left me empty
You filled me with compassion, joy, faith, peace, strength
grace and passion to continue in love for you
For in this I see your love for the church.
My kisses, you replaced with your kisses
Reminding me of how much you love the church.
I mean, no man hates that which he loves
No man can watch his right hand wilt with rot
He makes the effort to cleanse it still
For he know what he feels
Gazing at my eyes you saw my conflicts
Blotting every one of them from your manuscript;
Writing my name in the book of life; a leader
My sins crucified with you;
Dragged my conflicts to hell,
defeating the devil; healing me totally
Setting me free.
Certainly, we are in perfect peace; no more demons
Though they lurk in dark corners
we chase them out with your light
reminding them of who we are; resilient for you
Reminding them of our tears at your feet
The perfumed ointment at your feet
Our hair, wiped with your feet
We are still at the Master’s feet
With this alabaster box of faith;
pouring it all out just for him
For every demon gone, never to return
we hear the number of completeness
spewing from his mouth daily, saying
“Your sins are forgiven, and your faith has
made you whole, go in peace”

©Neofloetry.
22/01/2016
3:11pm.

NOT ALL BIRDS FLY

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NOT ALL BIRDS FLY

What is this,
a cage?

See,
No free bird
wants to be caged,
for simplicity laces
their wings,
as they spread
their them to fly.

Listen,
no caged bird
wants to be recaptured,
with its wings clipped;
and then left to chirp
painfully, while it peers
outside; its neck secured
with strings of steel.

All birds love to be free,
but a bird caged for long
can’t accept freedom,
even when declared free,
for it hovers, circling
that cage, unaware
of its unlatched door.

Allow a bird to fly;
soaring high.
Perhaps the eagle
has a story to tell you,
for no bird that loves to
fly high wants its wings
clipped, and stopped
from embracing the clouds.

©Neofloetry, 2015
17/01/2016
8:21pm

NOTE TO MY EX

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NOTE TO MY EX

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,
I am sorry you got left in your dark shades,
Watching me behind closed doors,
Wondering what my next move will be,
Who my next man would be;
Surfacing from a cocoon,
and breaking out into a butterfly,
To rest on my nectar of sweetness,
and to express with joy the beauty he’s drawn.

Ex-Boyfriend, I’d love to see you cry,
Weep tears like whipped cream,
That will slur your voice, wrapping your past
Sending you to the cocoon where you came from,
So you can unlearn the wrongs you learned,
And become a caterpillar, and eventually a butterfly,
To appreciate the beauty you lost,
And the nectar you once poisoned.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,
No precious gem bargained to be lost, but found,
But you found this one and lost it forever.

©Neofloetry, 2016.