Showing posts from December, 2013

Marriage Made In Heaven

There's divinity in most things we do - that power beyond us setting the posts and shapening the fields - which only leaves us to marvel or grapple. But the success of anything we do will largely, or always, depend on the amount of dedication we put in, and marriage is not an exception. The success of every marital union will depend on the level of mutual acceptance shared by the couple involved, the time invested, the love and sacrifice both individuals may be willing to give.  Marriage is not a place where you come to meet prepared solutions, or hope to automatically have your life  transformed by its shere pronouncements, or even get instant  rehabilitation from the emotional or lustful wretched you were just yesterday. Much as marriage can help in your general psychological appreciation, one must have had a previous determination to change, or must have started a workout on their character to enjoy meaningful transformation.  There is no marriage made in heaven! Divinity can b…


My Phoenix died a dozen
Times before dawn;
The last was his truest,
And he awoke in a of blaze words,Not a legend. Call me Madiba
That my enemies may collapse
In packs of conscience -
Each the colour of his mind,While I go down with the sun andResurrect a full moon:
I am not a poet, only a lone voice
With words playing in my head,I speak to the winds and the storms
Come to me in whispers. © Jude Ifeme

A Ghetto Lane

An indignant ewe wrestles
A randy ram, a cock rapes
A reluctant hen, an old man
Gropes a minor's crotch;It's evening on a ghetto lane -
Hawkers slowly return to roost.
Nightfall is a wakeup call,
Darkness a friend to all;Who knows, it might rapture
Tonight, but there's lust in every
Vein, every tongue craves a hotter
Drink, haven comes here every night.In a darker end is a lone voice,
Lewd lyrics crooned, an Angel's
Tone. Someday the world will sing
Along - not all bad on ghetto lanes. © Jude Ifeme

A Sad Song

Let's sing a song to hinder time
For we've come to precipice, our
Days are definite as numbers
Can be, our fate spelt in theScroll of seers of doom. We
Can rave and rant anyways, we
Could kill the prophets and burn
Their words, chase narratives ofBrilliant minds, there's but a step
Ahead. A song of rhythmic rhymes And chime of time drumming away, let's sing A song through the end of time.

Harmattan (Poem)

Soon the streams will trickle and dry, the rivers will learn to meander nomore and the birds be forced to unending dance. In our bed we'lllisten to clatters and clangs and wish we'd never face her wrath.Jude Ifeme

Untitled (poem)

It amazes how big things grow smaller as we grow biggerHow life so magnifies itself but in the end is just a whiz of windWhen you stare long in the eyes of death and don't take its abyssal Hand then you could yet addle the rest with a tale of many lives© Jude Ifeme