Sunday, 3 December 2017

[12/4, 2:06 AM] 🅿araⓂind: SACRED SIN.

A seemingly sacred sin
by the poetic assassin.
A perfect murder...
the police need not bother.

I will plead guilty;
a guilt not filthy.
An apparent assassination;
crime armed with satisfaction.

The beauty of a killing;
my hands are still willing.
A lynching without blood;
poetic ink in floods.

Dead pens in piles;
their corpses will make you smile.
My jotter is the slaughter slab;
the consistency of poetic jabs.

An articulate assassin;
the supreme creativity of sin.
A killing that brings hope;
with my pens, you'll cope.

sharpiro 2017
[12/4, 2:09 AM] 🅿araⓂind: Nebechi Samuel Chinonso

A FRIEND IN NEED.
Shut doors;
he's basically poor.
Life without quality;
the Persistence of pity.
Poisoned by penury;
poverty armed with fury.
Every hope seems lost;
a metallic prey to rust.
Hacked by hunger;
can't cope any longer.
Assassinated hope;
she dangles on a rope.
You're his only neighbour.
The only one to open the door.
Help a brother in need...
poverty makes the heart bleed.
Like a beach encroaches a land,
please stretch a helping hand.
Give out a gorgeous gesture.
Help a victim of torture.
Sharpie 2017

August 28 at 10:22pm · Public
[12/4, 2:10 AM] 🅿araⓂind: A SECRET.
Let it remain a secret.
Keep it from the street.
My obvious weakness;
you are the only witness.
Your absence in a day
makes me lose my way.
Without you I'm lost;
I fade away like the dust.
Your persistent presence
like words in a sentence,
remains my saving grace...
anxiety can be traced.
To your love, I'm a slave;
but with you I'm forever safe.
I want to grow old with you;
I'm stuck on you like glue.
Don't ever leave my side.
I'm the sea, you're the tide.
Like a lightning and the thunder;
no one can put an asunder.
Sharpie writes

sharpiro 2017
[12/4, 2:11 AM] 🅿araⓂind: POVERTY ON THE PROWL.
Thirsty throat.
Torn coat.
Empty stomach.
The definition of lack.
An epitome of scarcity.
Pity reigns in every city.
Prowl of poverty...
as demanding as puberty.
Desperate diseases.
Health hacked into pieces.
Sorrow sings with pride.
Her happiness she can't hide.
Joy has become a ghost...
tears can't help but boast.
The picture of a nation.
Pathetic from every indication.
Sharpie writes
AGITATIONS.
The diligence of a danger
before the death of this calendar.
War willingly waves her waist;
a seduction with a lasting taste.
The harassment of a harm;
trouble strolls in swarms.
The desperation of a disorder;
the excesses of a brutal blunder.
Nigeria burns at both ends;
calamity of bountiful blends.
The sinister smile of sorrow;
a tireless threat to tomorrow.
An arousal of an agitation;
the slaying of a solution.
Rampage of a roaring riot;
the emergence of war- chariots.
The free flow of fear;
our leaders really don't care.
Our hope on a slaughter slab.
Situations have become drab.
sharpiro017

A STORM WITHOUT REMORSE.
The face of the wind...
anger attempts a race.
Wave worn with aggression;
seems like a rush of blood.
Voice of the thunder;
fear freely frolicked.
The lightning perpetually paced;
an atmosphere in arrant disarray.
A rainfall really rude;
the persistent parade of pride.
A hullabaloo harassed the hood;
swiftly, we scampered for safety.
The stroll of a storm;
the metamorphosis of a breeze.
Oceans from a sulking sky...
an imminent invasion of flood.
Wind with a wild intent;
chaotic emotions in her eyes.
Loud lashes of the rain...
a storm without remorse.
sharpie017

ZEAL WITHOUT SHACKLES.
Thirsty courage.
Time is now of age.
Pour me some confidence...
I'll drink with vehemence.
Inspiration with intoxication.
The murder of moderation.
Motivation like a wildfire...
the smoke is pushing higher.
Zeal without shackles.
An urge with sparkles.
Enthusiasm off the chains...
the force of a first rain.
Pursuit of a new chapter.
Adrenaline pumps faster.
Aspiration on hard drugs...
oh success, come give me a hug.
The scent of fame.
I can feel the flame.
Handwriting on the wall...
it's time to stand tall.

Saturday, 2 December 2017

[12/1, 9:12 AM] 🅿araⓂind: bechi Samuel Chinonso

GOOD AND EVIL
Win or lose,
there won't be truce.
Immortality of a fight...
darkness against light.

Victor or vanquished,
this tussle cannot perish.
Violence in a lively mood...
war between evil and good.

Hero or valiant,
battlefront as a custodian.
A history very long...
the clash of right and wrong.

Warrior or coward,
no other way forward.
A war that can't cease...
chaos versus peace.

A confused street.
The feel of harmful heat.
Struggles in beautiful strings...
a tussle with wide wings.
[12/1, 9:20 AM] 🅿araⓂind: NAKED ZEAL.

Broken beads of dreams...
sadness so supreme.
Banging sound of emptiness.
My senses seem so stressed.

Dreams with wounded wings...
sorrow streaks in strings.
A situation so pathetic.
My emotions are getting sick.

Weak dreams like shadows.
Futility fervently glows.
Gradually, they disappear...
the laceration of failure's spear.

Thirsty dreams...
dry season and her streams.
The sinister song of frustration.
The castigation of condemnation.

Still, I forge ahead;
zeal obviously naked.
Motivation on my mind...
no stones will be left behind.

October 2017

SHARPIRO
[12/1, 9:22 AM] 🅿araⓂind: A WAR OF PEACE.
On a dirty date;
we had a clean bathe.
Prisoners of a bedroom;
excessive ecstasy looms.
A woman of a peculiar kind.
Her type, I can never find.
Apparently, she's a warlord
without a physical sword.
Her habitat is the riverine...
the spirituality of a shrine.
Beauty beyond comprehension.
The sail of sweet seduction.
The roars of a riot;
the voices of chariots.
The strength of a legion...
this is beyond an opinion.
I swam Nile's breadth.
I'm still catching my breath.
She seems forever strong...
the aggression of a 'freedom song'.
The war willingly lingered
as moans could be heard.
A war of perfect peace...
a tireless tantalising tease.
[12/1, 9:24 AM] 🅿araⓂind: THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
Conscience without a shackle;
movement of an active ankle.
I speak with no hindrance;
confidence remains my fragrance.
A crack in the wall;
a nation about to fall.
The desperation of doom...
chaos candidly looms.
Unity stripped naked;
an apparent sheetless bed.
Shame boldly brags;
a national flag reduced to rags.
The tears of a polity;
joy is an obvious nullity.
The helplessness of hope;
the country hangs on a rope.
Light clearly seems lost...
dawn is a disappearing dust.
We need a midnight sun
to bring back the lost fun.
sharpie
[12/1, 9:25 AM] 🅿araⓂind: WORD ON EVERY PAGE.

I'm here to sell a name
that'll bring this nation fame.
This is far from a game,
I'll never bring my country shame.

I'm here to trade a personality.
I'll sew up the polity with sanctity.
Forever proud of my nationality.
I'm the needed wind of sanity.

I'm the poetic assassin.
I'm as creative as sin.
With Nigeria I'll always win...
success on a serial spin.

A golden fish; nowhere to hide.
The parade of perfect pride.
A name known far and wide.
In greatness, I'll forever confide.

A monster of an image.
I'm the word on every page.
Fame armed with a rude rage...
popularity beyond every age.
[12/1, 9:27 AM] 🅿araⓂind: UPON THIS MOUNTAIN.

A heart with stains...
still, I approach your mountain.
Cleanse me of my blemish;
this is my prayerful wish
The pursuit of purity.
Heal me of every iniquity.
I need to be candidly clean...
righteousness is all that means.
In humility, I'm broken;
my pride, I've forsaken.
I'm tired of the flesh...
I need Holy spirit so fresh.
upon this mountain I pray
for holiness to come my way.
Send my sins to oblivion
and discountenance my opinion.
A cross that spits blood;
my heart, let it flood.
In purity I wish to drown.
Make me white like a bridal gown
[12/1, 9:36 AM] 🅿araⓂind: GOOD DAYS ARE NEAR.

Gathered clouds.

They talk aloud.

Periodic noise;
it's the rain's voice.

In a little while
rain will fall in piles.

Willing waters.
Flooded gutters.

Arrival of the rain ;
starvation is slain.

The death of doom.

The beauty of boom.

Washed away tears.

Assassinated fears.

A season of plenty;
a period really lengthy.

Return of respite;
she's on an invite.
Tirelessly good days
have finally come our ways.
[12/1, 9:37 AM] 🅿araⓂind: THROUGH IT ALL.
Through thick and thin,
we will willingly win.
Success beyond comprehension.
Sweetness remains the sensation.
Through struggles and strains...
our pains will soon ply the drains.
Succour like a soothing balm;
the coming of candid calm.
Through troubles and thrills,
we will soon conquer the hills.
The sky is not a limit...
we will imbibe a soaring spirit.
Like a champion, we're dressed.
Virtually, we can't be suppressed.
We'll strive through the storm...
achievements will keep us warm.
Tirelessly, we'll pursue the top.
Nothing can make us stop.
A distinction is due...
negativity cannot subdue.

sharpiro
[12/1, 9:39 AM] 🅿araⓂind: THE GIRL-CHILD.
From a desperate distance,
her life likes to dance.
From many miles,
she is a sack of smiles.
A world without blame-
she seems starved of shame.
A situation so perfect...
devoid of every defect.
A seemingly stern stare
strips the truth so bare.
The perpetual patrol of pain...
sorrow leaves a stunning stain.
Beauty armed with thorns-
Joy's skin boldly torn.
Tumbling tireless tears-
no one seems to care.
A victim of various vices.
Cruelty constantly entices.
A world left in the wild...
the pains of a girl-child.
Chinonso Okechi Samuel

October 2017
[12/1, 9:41 AM] 🅿araⓂind: ALL I SEE IS LIGHT.
Darkness loses more air
as time gradually gets restless.
She grows more grey hair
as she becomes breathless.
Darkness approaches her grave;
vivid vanishing of breath.
Death, in her nature so brave;
she's darkness' only threat.
Light has come of age.
She beckons with confidence.
The candid crawl of courage.
This time is of essence.
Arrival of a desperate dawn;
a morning with charismatic rays.
More strength, her shine has drawn;
brightness parades our ways.
All I see is light;
joy has no place to hide.
Darkness has lost her sight;
our situation now smiles with pride.
[12/1, 9:43 AM] 🅿araⓂind: ALWAYS YOU.

(DEDICATED TO MY BAMBI , MY SWEETHEART, MY ANGEL, THE BEAUTY OF MY SOUL, MY UNKNOWN WIFE. I PRAY ONE-DAY I WILL MEET YOU.)

Beauty that can't age;
the consistency of an adage.
I'm addicted to your name;
apparently love is to blame.

My candid comfort;
a pillar no one can abort.
The blood in my veins;
without you, life is in vain.

The sweetness of honey;
you're worth more than money.
My definite sunrise...
there's always hope in your eyes.

The mother of my unborn children;
the envy of other women.
Even if my choice was wrong;
you remain my pair of lungs.

The sweetness in a sensation;
you've given my life a direction.
If the sky refuses to be blue;
still it will forever be you.

Composed by sharpiro

Dedicated to unknown wife
Mother of my unborn children
[12/1, 9:45 AM] 🅿araⓂind: SHADOWS OF LIFE.
Running shadows...
we chase with arrows.
A pursuit with purpose;
even in candid comatose.
Shadows often on the run.
Hunting is no longer fun.
Still we willingly chase...
seems like a rat race.
The shadows of vanity;
an arousal of an affinity.
Desperation of a dependence;
futility maintains a stance.
The shadows of life...
humans pursue with a knife.
Efforts enormously futile;
carcasses in pathetic piles.
Skillfully, we still hunt;
even as knives get blunt.
We still hope for the best;
shadows have become pests.

sharpie
[12/1, 9:46 AM] 🅿araⓂind: NIGERIA IN RUSSIA.

Hearts with wings;
now we can sing.
Souls that seem to fly;
the skies, they want to ply.

The death of decorum;
arrival of African drums.
This calls for a celebration;
the flying flag of a nation.

The return of sweet smiles;
travellers from several miles.
The birth of a new dance;
happiness maintains a stance.

The parade of palmwine;
a party has come to dine.
I'm dressed in Nigerian flag;
our football no more in rags.

Joyfully we raise our voice;
a sweet song armed with poise.
A party all night long...
everything we do can't be wrong.

SHARPIE
[12/1, 9:48 AM] 🅿araⓂind: LOVE LETTER TO NIGERIA.
Several failed promises.
Still, I wish you bountiful bliss.
Though you cause me pains,
loyalty lives in my veins.
With you, I'm always on a date.
Loving you is my apparent fate.
You treat me without conscience.
I still care with all vehemence.
Love without an end;
your name I'll always defend.
Your thoughts often on my mind;
no love will be left behind.
You're obsessed with the obscene...
I'll still treat you like a queen.
I will pocket my pride
and treat you like my bride.
You've brought me shame.
I love you all the same.
Forever, you are my country.
A choice vehemently voluntary.
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY TO ONE GREAT NATION..........
0NE LUV KIP US TOGETHER
[12/1, 9:49 AM] 🅿araⓂind: INDEPENDENCE DAY.
(ANOTHER SAD VERSE)

The beckon of beautiful beats;
celebration graciously greets.
Melody makes a positive move;
come join the gorgeous groove.

The persistent plying of a party;
national mood, hale and hearty.
Merriment maintains her stance...
drinks, drums and dance.

The flag freely flies
as the music reaches the skies.
Another independence day
has travelled our way.

While our leaders revel,
we feel the scorch of hell.
We dance to cries and sobs;
water-taps with spoilt knobs.

Celebration without an ovation;
a nation like an incarceration.
A party for the leaders...
but to us, it's another sad verse.

DEDICATED TO NIGERIA, MY COUNTRY..
[12/1, 9:50 AM] 🅿araⓂind: WORLD OF A WOMAN.
The scent of a secret;
truth can't be discreet.
Images in a mirror;
the hovering of a horror.
Desperate darts of discrimination;
victims from every indication.
The arousal of an abuse...
the world has no excuse.
A gender so gorgeous;
her life profoundly porous.
A victim of vulnerability;
earth saps her of sanity.
A slain voice...
perpetually bleeding poise.
The persecution of her pride.
She's indeed Sorrow's bride.
Words woven with wisdom;
a campaign for her freedom.
A call on every man...
heal the world of a woman.
#SaveTheWorldOfAWoman

#happy birthday to me
[12/1, 9:53 AM] 🅿araⓂind: POETRY: RISE
By #Maveriqué_Richard.

I know someday I would rise;
Earlier than the cock would crow,
For with the deafening of each dawn;
Are saddled cascades of daily woes.

I know someday I would rise;
Without the thoughts of where I'd been;
For with every seepage from the precipitous clouds;
Are showers of eternal hope.

I know someday I would rise;
Above the bounds of sublunary might,
And the unrestrained stains of guilt,
Which incessantly behoves my whole.

I know someday I would rise;
Eased of all obliviousness;
So I'd perceive the pitched voice of the dumb,
Buried sparsely within my mouth;
That I may by the waddling of the tongue,
Spout wisdom from the abysmal depths,
Of my very bewildered soul.

I know someday I would rise;
To the birth of a heavenly bliss,
Freed dearly from a constrained will;
Relieved of all ignorances;
And with the sturdiness of ethereal bravery;
Would my heart dauntlessly wriggle it's way;
Far beyond the shackles of earthliness;
Further away from her dampening fist.
[12/1, 9:55 AM] 🅿araⓂind: A NIGHT OF POETIC FUTILITY.
Words without a home;
faraway they roam.
I wish they are near;
pains I can no longer bear.
I search for these words
like a musician looks for chords.
Futility with a broad smile;
a quest taking a while.
Impaired inspiration;
I see no solution.
Brain boldly blank;
vanity playing pranks.
Willingly I want to write;
enormous efforts with a blight.
I'm starved of a spark;
my mind is getting dark.
My pen feels lame
regardless of her fame.
A night of poetic futility...
no stain on my street credibility.