JUST LAUGH AND GO... (Poem by Dr. Dream)

 

In a world of worries, let laughter flow,

A poem to remind you, just laugh and go.

For life's too short to dwell on the strife,

Embrace the joy, let laughter be rife.

When troubles weigh heavy upon your soul,

Find solace in laughter, it consoles.

With every chuckle, worries fade.

A moment of bliss, a serenade.

Let laughter be your guiding light,

A remedy to conquer the darkest night.

For in its embrace, you'll find release,

A balm for the heart, a sense of peace.

Laugh at the absurdities life presents,

The silly moments, the happy accidents.

For laughter is a language we all understand,

A universal bond, a gift so grand.

So let your laughter echo far and wide,

A symphony of joy, a heartfelt stride.

In every giggle, find a reason to grow,

In every smile, let your spirit glow.

So, my friend, on this journey we tread,

Remember, laugh, and shed your worries.

For life's too precious to take it slow,

Embrace laughter. Just laugh and go.

By Dr Dream... literature review...

A walk of boldness

He broke forth
Out of the crowd
pushed and prompted
By the yawning of his heart
He took a walk of boldness
Sparked by his desire
For a better Nigeria
He stood courageously
And stopped a moving
Convoy.

Spreading out his hands
In supplication, he looked
At the man with admiration.
“My family said the man
Before me is a good man
The hope for a better Nigeria
I’m not of age to vote for him
But what I have is my love
and my prayers.
God, bless him
And through him bless
My country and take away
Our pains and suffering.”
The boy prayed in his heart.

The man smiled.
A smile with a coded message.
“Young boy,
The support and enthusiasm
Of people like you 
The youths of this nation
Is why I’m in the race
To let you know that
A better Nigeria is POssible.
Together we will take back
Our country
Build it and make it great.”

© By Ngozi Ebubedike.

LET ME GO HOME

          (I)

let me go home

for years I\"ve wastefully wallowed

in lust after West,

far from home.

I left like the second in that book

but not as the second son

father sired us many, multitudes, millions.

I left like the second in that book

but not as the second son...

Esau of the house left before me

so father\"s sons followed.

we left, father\"s wealth, not left.

we left, we took left and left-

went far, far west

where rain reigned, snow soared,

far, far west

where bikini girls guarded father\"s wealth

and aside we stood watching

as Njuka, watching their bobbling breasts,

lustfully lost.

father waited, he grew wearied

his mouth mourns all morning.

                 (II)

let me go home...

WAIT!

if I do, \"ll father recognize me?

bikini girls wangling waists,

have pierced my ears, a shinning ring noted

I believed her I "ll look better

so dangled it I along

as father\"s yoke dangles

on goat\"s neck.

let me go home,

if father recognize me,

I trust, no cock slaughters he-

for I am his killjoy

let me go home-

mind mindfully ready

but strength?

bikini girls stole my strength

when I dug into their honey pots

when my eyes hugged their breasts

when my ears listened

to the rhythmic wangles of their waists

my mind is ready

but strength...

let go my strength

let me go home!

NB: Njuka means " a newcomer" it is gotten from Ngugi Wa Thiong\"o\"s WEEP NOT, CHILD.

By Som Ogboh

Som Ogboh attended Sacred Heart College, St Paul\"s University College, Nibo-Nise and The University of Nigeria, Nsukka. He studied Education, English and Literature with a special interest in Poetry. He has written several poems published in several Journals, Magazines and Texts in Nigeria and England, UK. In 2016, he won the South-East Poetry Contest held at Imo State, Nigeria. He is a Literary Journalist, Editor and seasoned educationist. He hails from Umuoram Ozzu Awkuzu, Anambra State, South-East Nigeria.

All is Well(Poem)

 

The world was silent when we died

Pains that births greater pain

Agonies that rips soul outta their bodies

The brouhaha that comes with life

Nobody to shield us from the hullabaloo

In our deaths, we will rise again

Tucked away in our graves

Is a speck and ray of hope

From which we would rekindle the fire

For if it's all a practice

Then all is well

And if all is well

The practice can be lived.

 By chinenye chukwujekwe(guest writer)