Poetry comes fine spun from a man at peace

Be at peace with yourself

And the gulf stream will come to you
And lift you to heights of inspiration,
Great heights in which you will see
The lofty realms of the universe
And the grandiose verses
Intoned by the celestial choirs
Be at peace with yourself
And let the wisdom of the universe
Shine untinted on the surface
Of the pool of the mind.

CIRLES OF TIME.

Like a galaxy,
Time invisible to the eye
Rotates in its spiral journey
Into the future
And into the past.
Each circle with its agenda,
Each segment with its
Dominating forces.
Each arch with its hurricanes.
We go around and come back
Yet again
To the spot where we begun
But at a higher height in time.
What is the destination of time?
The mind asks
For he keeps moving in circles,
And what is the end of the circle
Or the spiral?

HYPOCRISY

They laugh with you,

And commiserate with you,
But within,
They are simmering with rage
At your enthronement.
They crucify your name,
And impale your honour
They are the scum
Of the earth
And future denizens
Of hell.
They praise you
At your coronation,
Raise adulations
At your prowess in war
And your wisdom in judgement,
But within
Lie the burning fires of hell,
The green ember of envy,
The murky waters of hate
The gloomy curses of
Thunderous profanity
Against the delicate aura
Of a name,
Honed carefully in time
They plot your downfall
Yet wine and dine
And drink off the same
Palm wine calabash with you
Hypocrites!
They are the scum of the earth
They are the denizens of hell
Oh hypocrites!
Rot in hell!

NIGHT

How sweet is the night

With its cool and gentle breeze.
How melodious is the night
With its humming stars and chirping crickets.
Oh how lovely is the night,
With its twinkling dots of heavenly joy.
Oh how gentle is the night,
With its carvorting and smooching lovers.

HORIZON

Tomorrow is like a horizon,

That we see at a vast distance,
The nearer we approach her,
The farther it moves away.
Better it is to consider
The tasks of the day
Than to dwell on
The matters of the morrow,
Which though near,
But like the horizon,
Are so far away
Tomorrow becomes today
With its own myriad problems
And heart aches
Which we must assuage.
Than to gloss over them
Our minds glued to
An illusion in the horizon
Which keeps on moving away
From us.

PYRAMIDS

Man thinks now,

He is at heights
Never transcended in time,
Heights of intellectual and
Scientific brilliance.
But tarry a while
And look to the great pyramids,
A parcel
Projected into time
To generate humility
In the souls of man..
A time parcel from a declining age,
Warning man of complacency
And false pride
Of being unique.
Pyramids
Are time capsules
Encapsulating the mathematical formulas,
And scientific knowledge,
Of a lofty race of beings,
Whose terrain
Was the deep black space
And the fiery balls of blazing energy.
I marvel at the minds
That lifted thousands of
Flawlessly cut blocks,
Each block representing
A mathematical principle,
Each base, side and apex,
Being an encodement
Of a knowledge,
Long lost from the bosom of man.
Tarry a while man!
The past has seen greater
Knowledge and wisdom,
And there are yet
Greater heights to explore.
Tarry man,
And be humble
Lest your pride
Destroys you,
As it did,
The lofty races of yore.

NEPAD

Is it a knee pad
On which Africans
Are to kneel,
And perform ablutions
To the 1st world,
Or is it a new vision
For the salvation
Of Africa.
That
Time will tell,
But I the poet say,
Africa will only transform,
When we transform the demons
That that sail in grotesque
Vessels within the veins of our bodies.
Africa will only be born again,
When we demolish the demons,
That build nests,
Within the gray cells of our brains.
NEPAD, OR PAMSCAD
OR HIPC OR PRSP
Cannot change Africa,
Unless we eject
And terminate the tenancy
Of the demons
That lie like worms
In our stomachs.
The demons of envy
The demons of egotism
The demons of nepotism
The demons of political exclusion.
The demons of occultism,
The demons of self-aggrandizement.
The demons of human sacrifice.
The PHD syndrome,
PULL HIM DOWM!
Exorcise these hideous denizens
From the marrow of our bones,
And Africa
Will not need a NEPAD,
Or a PRSP
Or a HIPC,
To transform our
Dear ancient abode.