POEMS, NEWS, PUN AND FUN

This is an episode, Of women in sorrow. If you can today decode, Wait not for tomorrow. Even though I’m now tamed, What I do isn’t my will. They had my belly all drained, And I’m trying to refill.   Confess! and I confessed. Only repeat what we said, “I AM A WITCH” Else they amputate me. A statement which, I have failed to retweet.   But does it make any sense? If one cannot afford Samsung Why not go for Hisense? Even if I were a weak witch Wouldn’t I at night switch Into the bat that sung?   Keeping me in a WITCH CAMP, With my fate all clamped, Doesn’t hurt me at all. Yet those free and criticizing, Are the wizards after all. Were we to be witches, wouldn’t we flee at night?

His hands aren't too short to save, Neither his path too crooked to pave  Nor feeble to us the mind he gave Blessed be who believes without erring Foolish indeed who judges just by hearing God loves Africans they alleged Not wondering how that news was heard He hails from us historians have said But the foreigners proclaimed him to us I had read Where is the truth in this message Or it's all at the mercy of a heresy? You have a child with deformity we were told, A son of about thirty minutes old, Being our first time is why we felt cold However, if Fennel and I were then bold This story wouldn't today unfold. With nurses mimicking the unfortunate road he plied, Its Iris appear red, brown, yellow like dyed. Simply, our kid was declared a one eyed As the doctor made retarding sighs While examining his left and right eyes. Amidst fear, panic and fury, And a child in my arms like armoury, We left without hearing the doctor's caution, That sunlight was a blend concoction Loc

We the fortunate ones Those who weren't sanitized at once At least from biblical pandemics Those anointed theological comics  Black sheep in the day, white wolf at night We were saved anyway, by grace not might. It hasn't been any different from what I sought, That bottle of oil my wife had bought To save our son we gracefully begot. Borges was our patrimonial argot But He asked, "Is that all you've got" Who then is He? The man who baptized we. "He" represents all false prophets, Who studied the holy pamphlets And to amass for their own pockets, Deceive the religious illiterates To unbind any ties with soul mates Hence, sanitizing their thinking cups. Unless you buy my oil, This child will soon be in the soil. This is how we lost hope Our faith in him was so dope Trusted he could help us cope, Bishop Corona was only an expired coke Who had semblance of a good Pope.

Haps sung with strings and harps Sometimes said with strings attached Especially those of iconic mishaps Wishes recited with rhymes detached All in the name of what will people say We woefully help make their day Birthday rhythm of the morning Sincere condolences for the night As if to help in mourning And to stick till you feel alright Marital support with gifts on site Naming ceremonies graced all in white Forging unity with heart and might But no one to say goodnight Many troubles behind the sweet smiles Some that go with us for many miles Pains that can't be seen in eyes Needs beyond individual ties Sometimes it's lack of mere love And the sense of humor we don't have Our backs turned in pursuit of nothingness Hoping to survive by curtailing kindness A table is set with no dish And meal served without fish Then why proclaim the brotherhood fetish? If only we would take a second look Purport at will to read each other's look Maybe we shall not just type the good wish

We mostly hear the comparison; as white as snow, Although often there's nothing pure they show. But this lady is as fair as shrimp's below. Were she a song, I'ld listen till my ear lobe blow There's a toffee shop down the lane, The sweetness in its pack gets me insane. An estate girl has it for sale, My route and her footpath is same, When we first met she told me a love thale, And I now love her so who's to blame? Toffees are sweet but only to those who taste them. This one wrapped brown is my problem. Before meeting her, I ate pancake. And it's why she's refusing me her chocolate. If not for love, I'll spank her for being late. Can I yet vomit in her arms, To free my belly of old charms, And wed her in one of my golden farms? The time is soon and the date set Next new moon or June I bet Plans are made, is the cash ready? The man is late, but is the bride groomed already?

All I saw was her hands around me and mine tightly around her waist. For about an hour I couldn't let go of her as she said," I wish we stay like this all time". If only you were all mine, I added. The feeling was mutual and the ecstasy behind the hug, unusual. She continued,"Do you love me? Anytime I set my eyes on your lips, I don't want to lose you." So I questioned," What of in the harmattan? The arms fused so tightly now lost grips and the hug came to abrupt end. This was when I woke up. We all have who we love dearly but ask yourself if you love because of love, the beauty of it or just for that attraction. Many youth would do anything just to earn love, admiration and acceptance. But are those necessary, if they are, could that be the only means to touch the heart of that special person? It was only two days after they exchanged contacts and my friend described this lady as good at kissing. ( I still cannot tell what that means) Pretending not to

The crossroad is a place of confusion, where you can’t rely on your intuition. There, any wrong turn could lead to eternal condemnation. If and when you get there, Never submit to fear but rather take courage and cheer. Pause for a moment in any situation. Prayerfully discern at that junction. Listen to your respondent, let the Holy Spirit function. At least for once, certainly not by chance. I have this to share so take your stance. You might have been or may get there soon. It may be dawn, night or noon. When you forget what to do, or you don’t know where to go. Upon you darkness looks and certainty seems very low. Call onto Him and grace will flow. Times will come that you may lust, not because you are bad. But surely you are dust and in you flows blood. Rely not on your flesh but flee fast, forget not the salvation you once had. You may feel like coining lyrics to defray your neighbour's insolence. Remember that the Holy Spirit is your conscience. Just tame the tongue, for the

Is it deliberate that at least man is now literate, Or we are so intimate that His decision to obliterate is now obsolete. If indeed there has been a need so keen, Then let's ask the wisest of our king What the master had in mind To structure a universe of this kind With worldwide wonders woefully wielded without whimsical wisdom. Let man leave his dad's hive Cleave onto his beloved wife Then craft a niche, an abode to hide. I have never stopped my enquiries Into my book of bible stories As if yet to hear of previous queries If God knew Adam would eat those berries Or it was Eve who weakened his testes Perhaps it's the snake's power of hisses. Ye are gods, such weird biblical quotation But willfully wired robots, God's nation. So consider an era of creation Where artificial intelligence had no mention Yet the bird was made with feet insulation To curb the threats of future electrocution, And semen from army of seamen Fight for ovaries in fertile women To omen a scho