Birdy thoughts

I weaved a world,
From twigs and feathers,
Hewn from my beak,
Twined with leaves,
To cocoon you from wind and weather.
A tiny world it was.
Fragile not.
It bestowed you with wings,
And voice and spirit,
Songs of seasons, for you to sing,
With harmony sans lyric.
Flown you have,
Made your choice.
The sky,
Your new world,
And I rejoice.
Your return,
From your worldly sojourn,
I await.
I espy this small nest,
In my big world,
Tucked among leaves,
Under the eaves.
A tiny world it was not.
Fragile not.
It told tales of Wings,
With voice and spirit,
Songs of seasons that I hear you sing,
With harmony sans lyric.
The vagaries of this world you will withstand,
For your world,
I hold,
In my hand,
It is your hearth,
It is my heart.


Pack me a gift

In the empty streets of city

My dreams search the eyes..

Desperate to enter into their world hollow,

Of misery, lies, and sorrow

Left them blinded not asleep

With colors of some fading evening beneath diamond lit sky

Birds of unbroken empire of dusk, shrugging thier wings to fly

Hey you angels of far off land..take me down to those ruins of time..

Pack me a gift from days young..

Where lips had smile, and hands were full

With sand of time.. hey you angels of forgotten times,

I do not want wake up anymore,

Day streets are empty

No one is mine.

Your importance in my life 

To me, you are

The soft rain

my reason to grow

amidst passion and pain

The morning sun

brightening my day

as my soul blooms

The ground that holds

my roots, unshaken

in wild storms

The mellow moon

among the dark skies

of my varied moods

The stars that shine

guiding me,

When I’m lost in Wild


The ocean wide

Every smile,Every tear

I’ve cried 

The clear blue skies

A love, so vast

that no reason define

To me, you are 

The air that I breath

A cliché, that holds true

to this day, of my life


Stretch – a small word

Finity to infinity,

How much you use it

Stretching of body


Fit and healthy.

Stretching of mind

Right path follow.

Stretching of thoughts,


splendid ,unique.
Stretching of hand,
friendship, help

Good to  be one.

My mother 

Looking at you sleeping beside me 

These thoughts run in my mind 

My mother I seek my love in u ..
A love to dare 

So full of care 

In a love to never go 

In it our heart to bare ..

For you are what life is made of …

In an endurance built in so rare ..

Rearing to go in its love …

Everything in life to dare ..

Giving  everything taking Nothing 

My mother in your love everything to bear ..

In a life holding all love 

In it to capture the whole world ..

Gods love to ensnare 

In her god even dares 

In a love so unselfish 

In her love 

God takes care 

Going in his love ..

In his love  picking life in her life 

In her life god lives blissfully unaware ..

Blessed in a life …in gods care 

In her to see his mother ..

Looking through him ..

In his eyes to dare ..

I m your child you I live …

My dear mother do take care …

In your godly love 

Giving god a taste of his share …

In his love life to dare …

Because I am the love of god …

Gods look down at me 

Engulfing love in a life filled with despair 

Making a nest of life in sticks so brittle 

In to break n tare 

In the tear of life 

Never failing 


in her strength to lay down her life …

Willingly for she was made for life it alone to fare …
Was life made for her 

or was she made for life 

Life whispers to her lovingly 

Don’t leave me 

In you my life 

Lives without care 
My life 

You I cannot spare

Inspiring poems

Here is an inspiring and a powerful poem from poet wisdom wise wonder from Nigeria 

I fell too much impressed by the way he writes so that I couldn’t stop sharing it 
“Save the Children” 

I was born innocent and blameless, 

with no cankers of blemish fear, 

I bore in my heart a dream, 

yes! a dream to blossom my country,

but now, I lay asleep at the bosom of a safer place, 

my dad’s house has being fed to the ashes of the air, 

the town I live in, 

has being blur with venom of volatile agony, 

I am a child, born soft and easy, 

tender and fair, 

made it to the camp of hope, 

the journey is a scar in my memory, 

mark with scary moment , 

crossing the turbulent sea,

all that my eyes gaze at ripped off the courage out of my heart , 

the story of some of my age group  never ended, 

like safer ever after, 

my little friend was found by the shores of the sea, 

dead or alive? 


I sit on the wheelchair of my comfort, 

for shattered are the bones of my feet, 

remembering the beautiful times I had with my parent, 

who died by the storm of an unexpected bomb, 

grief of pain runs a fuss in my mind ,

My mum, She’s a brave and virtuous woman, 

she paint my smile with the color of happiness, 

she gives me water amidst the midst of the fire, 

she works day and night to ensure my lips never taste crumbs , 

covering me with the blanket of so much care, 

at night she tells me bedtime story, 

and always tells me,

that like a wink of darkness into light, 

one day all this will be over, 

 a violent bullet shadow with wickedness fell upon her, 

then I cried “I want you back mummy, 

my only life in this life” ,

then I remember her soothing words, 

like a wink of darkness into light, 

one day all this will be over,

A day before yesterday peace was jailed, 

yesterday love tried to bail her out, 

but hatred with his company never gave love a chance to speak,

today peace is no where to be found, 

love has went on an exile in the heart of man, 

and tomorrow? 

save the future, save the Children..

Birth of a poem 

​As I set my pen

To paper,

And thoughts flow through

My veins to the pen’s,

I wonder what colour

Will I bleed

On to the paper.
What colour would be

Of despair, of misery,

Or what colour would I bleed

To paint the colours of tranquility?

Or what must I do

To paint a mirage through my words,

Upon the hapless sheet that lay right in front of me.
This hapless white sheet,

Lying lifeless,

Like a widow robbed

Of its only will to live.

To love.

Do I bleed on it

To give it life?

One life transferred,

One life saved.
May I bleed 

Upon this ivory sheet of paper

And stain the widow

With my repugnant thoughts?

And speak with fervour 

Of my fierce soul and dreams,

Only to unearth the beautifully valiant

Woman under the veil

And let her cascade her fervour 

And set ablaze the over stretched horizons.
Rise, brave paper

With the words I fill 

In your soul,

For the night might be dark

And full of terrors,

But the day is when the

Demons hide

In plain sight.

Let me expel my demons

With this sword that is my pen

So that a battleground 

May erupt, on your surface.
So, be ready, brave paper,

The chastity of your soul

Is to be breached.

The sun will rise the same,

But the shadows won’t be alike,

The story won’t be the same.

But see through it, brave paper,

You always become a treasurable memoir.

It’s in you that a day never gets it’s closure,

Yet the tranquil stillness of dawn resides.
Sound the conch,

Rally the bannermen, 

And bring out the cavalry!

Two wars will be waged

Today, dear paper.

One on your body,

One in my mind.

And the victor will bleed out

On you.

And thus,

A poem shall be born.

What you are to me

​Dedicated to the person whom I first followed on wordpress

You buried me, 

In your  thoughts and writings 

 you buried me,

Breathlessly you suffocate me in ur ink,

Your dripping pen caged me on,and on until I licked the last drop

Having trodden in the darkness you shunned light,

Having been on lonely

Pitched dark path many a time,

I soar with your liberation theology,

Victory song at the tunnel end!

Where letting go clashes with jubilation forever,

My small pen honor you….

Poets and writers  are gods,and you are rare amongst.

Dear Grandmother

​“for the all years i’ve known you,

you were always pale and wrinkled

with a hunched back

and thick brown glasses

white hair pulled back in a messy bun

a walking stick in one hand

the other holding mine.

the same calloused hands

they’ve seen it all,

you’ve been a part of it all 

from my one toothed smiles to my never ending tears

from my first steps to my first day of school

i wish you were there for my last one too.

your eyes always twinkled in recognition

whenever you saw my face

a toothless smile painted on your lips.

i still remember,

when you recounted stories

stories of destruction; stories of desolation

your journeys and your struggles

from blissful, beautiful farms

to war painted streets

with a crying baby cradled to your chest.

i wish,

i wish i could hear you tell them one last time

and in the end

when you finished with a dramatic flair

i’d clap and hold your hand

and tell you how much those stories mean to me

how they’re now carved into my very bones

and flow in my veins.

i’ll remember you today, tomorrow and even the day after that

and the day i’d recite the same stories to my children.

i’ll remember you,

i’ll remember your pale face and white hair

and that toothless smile,

that’s how i’ll remember you forever.”


​I’m sitting in my hiding place

though I’m not alone. 

I feel His presence guiding me, 

taking me along.
I look around and smile bright, 

telling Him to hold me tight-

because I am on a ledge.
Alone, I feel, I can’t stand right, 

these challenges that pass me by. 

Winds are blowing, 

push me down. 

Help me through the dark.
Yet I’ll hold on, 

head held high-

Certain hardships will pass by. 

At my side, 

You and I, 

everything’s alright.