Oprah The goddess "She"

The She~ the goddess “She”

 Oprah the goddess Spirit “She”

In the cloudiness of the Western light

the spirit “She” unfolded

From the unexpected came the might

The might that men of centuries have dreamed

In the possibility of the probable

that stacked the odds she embattled to surmount

En-route it must be possible they mistook the Spirit Victor-Ludorum

for a Negro woman

It was the destined destination, aside for only “She”

Precluded from common opportunity corridors

Probative the lady-spirit that Oprah is “She”

Was there the possibility that she,

her destiny would find derailment?

The capriciously busy double tracks,

to mishaps disposing

demanding the upper echelon the footstool of Suma

Only the “She” the Spirit indomitable traverses

She the enchanting that does not self-seduce

She that brings disappointments to terminal end

in audacious judgment with ease;

To impound and adjudicate between the pro and cons

in the spans of wisdom,

that’s quick and potent

It is the destined destination

that must be attained for Oprah is “She”

What possibility along the trans of circumstances

had headed her to same destination?.

For there were tears,

only wherein instanced,

wherein men would have self-destructed,

popped and disposed

Prickly painful, but not imposed upon the Spirit She;

Not frail; not easily sponged to puffiness is “She”

Not gullible; to unsteady gaits,

easy she rebuffs,the forceful pushes,

The deluding persuasions

and the professor on derailment from destiny

 found; to his ensnarement at the cubits of disappointment

That, “the She” is the “Oprah of America” the She Spirit.

The excellence, enhanced,

while not comprehended,

became prevalent to primacy in deed.

In surging, the Spirit sparks

and the fire rekindles

to attain the height, the envisioned pinnacle

The queenly caput; the bandanna of excellence; the ring of gold.

In personality, the Spirit extends

a most capricious attraction that lures but not seduce

A face that provokes with beauty and innocence

and demeanor that impresses

but would not embrace

A Spirit that beckons all to self,

 but stands aloof

That’s it; too much Spirit

for any to hold, is “She”

A Spirit, mounts, ecstatically enjoining at distance,

proclaiming, “Love You, love me, Love you”, Love me

Thus the world embellishes with love,

for with love she attends, for Oprah is “She”

Bravo! my lady bravo!

Would that I could write, or

 sing thy Spirit to justice end

I would then,

have attained the pinnacle

where excellence thy Spirit captured

To copious charity,

I would my heart’s content sculpture

for Lady, “She”, the “Spirit of Excellence”.

In song and literary poverty, I must contend

and commit rather to spirit,

Bravo! Sister Bravo!

Thus, the world embellishes with love,

for with love she attends, for Oprah is “She”

Bravo! My Lady, bravo! bravo! bravo!

The Clansman’s Negro Heart

13). The Clansman’s Negro Heart

Bonnie died on Sunday, on surgery table,

where life depended on the steady hands and the razor-

On Tuesday Bonnie woke with heart that is new;

implanted with treads and needles, the frailty of life

By the week from Sunday that Bonnie died

he came into full life of Second-Chance

Bonnie could talk, swallow an egg,

experience complete material structures of his body

like the bully-bull, nothing amiss the bouncer was fine-

But how, to life again-

Bonnie could not conceive or comprehend-

Unconscious, the unaware Bonnie was,

to, the surgery table-

Finally, the flash beacons from within,

enduing him to grips with a miracle;

the miracle of Second Chance,

the blessing to only few-

Bonnie broke the ice

and querying the fact of his life-

Questioning, regarding the source,

source of, his life of Second Chance-

“Who was this Angle of Life? -

the original bearer of this gold?

upon whose death-

I, have received a Second Chance?”

To Bonnie the unimaginable,

the surprise of the differing kind

was, handed him; a picture,

by him that doctored his Second Chance

Bonnie went shortly comatose.

recovery timely,

Bonnie puckered, “What!

Mark! him I knew, very well, at work.”-

Red and pale faced was Bonnie as he asked

Plainly, in abject pain and sorrow he stammered

“what, what, what Happened?

 How did it happen?

Why, why, O! why~ that trailed into sub sobs”

And diamond shaped, the tears rolled

painful for, Bonnie’s state of health.

An accident took Mark’s life,

his heat lives on

to give life in Second Chance-

Bonnie mumbles the name of God.

A novelty in Second Chance

Bonnie sobbed a while; the wife asked;

“you, crying?” happy to be, was the expectation

It, it, it hurts so much; Not the heart but the man I am-

Mark, I had fired for no reason,

I fired him for no reason at all, 

but that he was Black, he was black-

Mark, I hated, a Blackman working

and earning as much as I;

that was too much to bear.

That to me was not right-

I was the man-perfect

Mark, I hated for his guts, smartness and spirit;

those challenged the man I am

Mark was a textbook candidate of Clansman, hate.

I resented everything about him,

the sight of him made me angry

that I was often hurting, and crying inside-

The worst thing still;

I hated the sight of him smiling

Smiling a greeting as if I was his friend-

It was most painful knowing that he knew,

that, I hated him

yet he dismissed me

my treats as he dismissed me.

To fire him, I could not find grounds;

for Mark worked so hard and so professionally

Mark, I hated for his guts, smartness and spirit;

Shaking his head-

Mark was a textbook candidate of Clansman, hate-

As a Clansman would say,

Nigger he is; and that is reason enough,

to fire him; and so, I did

I fired Mark for no reason,

no reason at all-

just that he was a smart Blackman,

he was black

Bonnie broke down and sobbed

as if rejecting the New Heart from Blackman Mark-

He recovered from the painful mortification

The shackle in, of penitential pain and remorse  

The pain that washed away his hatred

of him that was black and beautiful-

Monday a month that Bonnie died and lived,

In the new life of second chance;

from his hospital bed without further ado or delay

Bonnie withdrew his Clansman Membership-

he vowed to worship God

His sons, grandsons followed Pa’s example

ending generations of Clansman Membership

Discharged Bonnie was,

with bouncing healthy body and soul,

to life of Second Chance

With apology made of tears,

Bonnie met with Mark’s family, wife and children

I wished, I, Bonnie a Clansman,

had known yesterdays,

what I know now; O! How I wish.

I today am living in Second Chance

with “Heart” most beautiful that you have given.

Accept, accept me as family, though “White”;

you and I know, indeed I have a Blackman’s heart

and Hearth in a life of Second Chance.

Yoruba Igbo (Bantu) Ancestry

Yoruba Igbo (Yoruba Bantu)
Before the onset of Jihad 1100 went West Africa
And divisive Imperialist Government shocked
Nature’s order, wits and culture, set them Bantus
Ricelike grain rosins surged in place for wine
and distanced the reign of Bacus from the
Raffia god of wine. Ije the rosin the anti-alcohol god
that led siege on the Ude Raffia, swapped
the glory of ancient kinkana and wine-tapers' fortune
for the glory of an identity Ala Ije-gbuo-ude
Okere Ijegbuo-Ude, the father of Ɔyɔ ømø
11 males in all by the sugar-darling Ɔshɔ

Ɔshɔ was beloved and friend~ “Ogbom-Ɔshɔ” was sugar
Eleven sons brought Erekeh to fame.
There, was Umgbere, more beautiful more disarming
Oyoømø yielded to Ɔyɔ (Oyo) the land North from Aba-Okwute
through Umgbada-Ani unke Ife was gift
Ogbom- Ɔshɔ (Ogbomosho) for Ɔyɔ ømø Igbo kindled
The inclusive, and tended inheritance for brotherhood of
Ɔyɔ, Ilorini, Igbo-Wawa, Ilorini-Igbo, Igboho, Aba-Okwute, Eigbdani, Ife,
Igbo-Ehitti, Ɔshɔ -Igbo and the Twin Ɔnøudo and Akøure
the tribes of Okere Ijegbu-Ude

Ony-Oru-øba was a soldier in the Match of Odu-Du-øwa
on the Uncle's territory Agbomi Durueke
At Aneiho the Ewe Igbo, there, Odu-Du-øwa’s
requisition personnel’s requisited for the nickname
the soldiers' need and spoils, the victor’s wealth~ was øba
requisitioning the defeated in the unit of Oru (Hundred)
The individual rover was referred to as Onye-Oru-øba
It happened at Aneiho, the Ewe-Igbo
And thus, Ife and Aba-Okwute and Ɔyɔ, clothed
According to the stiffness and high-handed unit-command.

led by the general commander, titled, the leader in the Warring World
the Odu-Du-øwa, the grandson of Ogbom- Ɔshɔ the mother primed at Ife-Igbo
Onye-Oru-øba became, Yeruøba then Yourøba and finally Yoruba
rooted in Bantu the Igbo. Common Bantu Origin the reason for
Colony and Protectorate of Southern Nigeria 1914 and
Awolowo-Ojukwu planned but failed action 1967.
Okere Ijegbu-Ude the Father of Aba-Okwue the Brother of Ife
Ife the grandfather of Odu-du-øwa;
 Odu-du-øwa the Ɔchei-Agha (General In-Command) of the Aru at Ife

IGBO WE HAIL THEE

19). IGBO, WE HAIL THEE 
Question not thy integrity, might or power.
Be not doubtful thy effectiveness, might or power,
Proudly pound thy chest, thy probity, thy image uphold
O! thou, the ethnic nationalist,
thy country’s unity, the essence of nationhood
thou have championed, nurtured and bore upon thy back
Proudly thou hast labored to build up thy crumbling Nation
Holding the estranging pieces, healing and bandaging
In spite of depravity, the consensus to deprive, and to dominate thee
O! thou embattled Igbo, 
thou that no battlement tends
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo

Imponderable nationalism trails thy spirit-heroism
Thy wings unconditionally spread that all be sheltered
Thy sweat tends and irrigates the land that all be nurtured
Thy blood, the bloodshed in martyrdom, a sacrifice for nation’s unity
Your own people, sons of Igbo- Bakashi
sold, land and souls into serfdom in modern day
In the world court of French glory
where veto, glories in flexing the whip of Neo-colonialism
upholding the uneducated and unholy action,
the seed of perpetual unrest sown

That which, perpetually wills to remind, of the pogrom-
The Hausa -Fulani-Yoruba ethnic cleansing;
The blood of innocence that still cry to heaven
The fiendish, conscienceless massacres
of thirty thousand plus Igbo people
Brothers, sisters, wives, pregnant women and babies
The Emirate glory in the so claimed "Allah-approved killings" 
The evils that engendered, Biafra/.

O! Igbo, O! Tanker-spirit, the shock absorber
to whom no terrain is impossible
no, obstacles impassable
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee.
Igbo, we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo

O! Igbo, O! Consequential spirit,
thou the ordination of Allah/God Most High
To the north-most, the children of Ama Nwaekpi
And of Ahia Shiokoto-Chimole, Zangazi, 
And Umø Unkaneme Umbra-Unu (Bornu),
 Umadø-Ugiri and Ungwuru (Unguru), Kaduru-Unna Kataff,
Atei Marauwa, Ada Ummawa, Umba-Awuchi,
Ama øzaria(grassland Field)
and Ama Akorji (Makuruji>Makordi the yam field) 
Aba-Uja (The Two River Union), Mina Igbo, and Illorini Igbo
To all, you are at home, investing your blood for unity
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo

O! Igbo, O! Compliant spirit,
you are the Covenant of God, Allah/God Most High
To the south-most, the deluded Igbo offspring
Igbo Fishermen Settlements and Cities and Towns
thou art at home investing thy blood for unity
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo

O! Egalitarian spirit, the Father of Bantustan Africa
thou art the handiwork of God, Allah Most High
To the west-most the children of
Okere Ije-gbu-Ode and wife Ogbo-m Oshɔr
The father of Ɔyo-Umu hailing Ife Igbo,
Igbo Wawa, Illorin Igbo, Oshɔr-Igbo (Oshogbo)
and their brother Aba-Okwute thou 
thou art home, investing thy blood for unity
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo

No differing tribe or tongue dissuades,
the Igbo extended hands of goodwill
No differing religion inhibits,
the Igbo extended hands of goodwill
No concerted effort,
strikes down the Igbo extended hands of brotherhood/
No covert political alliances dislodge,
the Igbo extended hands of goodwill
No targeted political policies strike down
the Igbo extended hands of brotherhood/
You are Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo.

Bravo exiled Igbos,
the Igbo-people in Diaspora,bravo!
From the ends of the earth,
thou at thy brother’s keeper
To a people seen as vanquished, and denied,
you are salvation
Bravo thou the torpedo, the anti-blockade,
thou art savior
The clipper on thy brother’s education and employment
you have expunged
you art a blessing.
The forced retardation, the imposition on aspirations
the deceleration of emancipation you still battle.
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noblest of the nobles of men
Igbo, we hail thee;
Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo.

Half the One hundred and fifty penitential years
the Yoruba-Hausa dream and glory
A mistake that stinks the rottenness
the putrefaction of shortsightedness
You have cautioned and lifted the pressure hands. 
Bravo!Thou art Igbo; 
thou art the noble of the noblest of men
Igbo, we hail thee; 
Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo.

Remind thyself of thy ancient father’s glory
The planting of the man of means, 
and of worth upon the earth. Thou art the Bantu, the Igbo.
Thy tongue banqueted, and civilization communicated
gb, sh, ny, gw, kp bh. dh, gh, nw,ø, ɔ, un, um 
and others still confirms upon the tongues 
of the World,
The inherent Igbo Seafaring polished and placed on 
the Ice Age Warm-Waters
Pyramids built wherever, Igbo people and tongue had presence
You bore the (Ala Engele Ukwu Chi), Enge-land
Panya (Potokiri, Poto-Panya and Furenchi)
of Arya Iberi (light-complexioned wavy-haired Igbo)
and Umanna Ike's (Germanik's) enslavement
The enslavement of their own ancestral Origin and home
and the in-prudence of denying their ancestors true origin,
Thou art Igbo; thou art the noble of the noblest of men
Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo.

Thou art Igbo; thou art the noble of the noblest of men

Igbo, we hail thee; Igbo we hail thee; Bravo Igbo bravo.

Mother Africa

 4). Day of Memoriam, for “Mother Africa”

At man’s passing impulses, 
I have become variable by name.

Noble-spirited, I have admitted the ingratitude;

The anomalous definitions, borne on feeler’s ignorance;  

I at the debut of motherhood, man was the insignia subject;

I pre-existed the nomination and replication

of all man, that this earth contains.

Exegetic was the repository of man in my wound which,

sublimated, the ideal motherhood - to Mama,

for generations of millions of sons.

Upon my bosom are my scares,

the evidences of my nurturing feat
then see Africa from my eyes.

The tilapia, I am subtle, kind, gentle, dismissing hunger to scoop

with unlimited love for all my sons, litters, un-numbered.

When they were young, vulnerable, and sheepish

they found cuddling, soothing, nursing and reassurance,

the mother toad bags you on her back, the oddities of salvation

“I was for all Home Sweet Home ~Africa”

Days and months uncounted,

numerous the ages,

aging into boulders;

rolling stones and rocky-mindedness,

which, creepily cripples 

my motherly loving kindness

and undivided attention

They return from the Milky-way

to quench their thirst,

nothing soft,

like strangers, foreigners, aliens

indeed, they have come to be

They plunder, they rob,

they sank their teeth into brothers back

Brother was food, fun and jock,

he was baked and planted,

He was harvested and eating,

cooked and raw

He was killed for love and by love

and in love, and non-counted

They scanned me out,

 for gold rush,

their hunting ground,

 battle-ground 

power ground and burial ground,

allotting to themselves

allotments to satisfy their whoring passion,

sinking their appendages

and I a land for fortune

“he made his wealth in Africa” the glory

Rule they indeed have done;

 they pitted, and sieved through my bosom

for gold and silver

The pityriasis they have infected upon my bosom

 they have not tended

I beacon sincerely,

Wherefore my children, physicians, surgeons

and all, to suture the gutted wounds

of their father’s insatiable throat

From the rising Sun to the setting,

the cocks crow to silence

The hyenas laugh at the bull eating alive

The moon rise casting shadows

and the sun rise broiling them 

The rise and fall of the ocean,

pegs the high and low of rush 

At the surge that slaps the sitting silent Africa

And the crow glories

quenching the flame of livid consciences

It is “Mother” ~

relentless, conscious and the emptiness.

The Kalahari blowing dust,

the Sahara’s floating dunes

The dust sand and safari

is all that hallow

mother’s relentless pains, not-soothed

The affliction festered and non-would heal

Black, White, Red or Yellow

 name the human hue,

Prime is the Gene I bequeathed full, complete and set,

all from same bowel, into odyssey of life.

Whichever land you find a home

was seeded my seed

“Mother Africa” claims~ I still am your mother 

I beacon, for my “Mother’s Day Memorial”

for I am “Mother Africa”.

THE STRONG AND THE PROUD

25.THE STRONG AND THE PROUD

Amid the disruptions-

the unwanted shatterings-

the financial upheavals-

the uncertainties, and the tells of wars-

Daily at my worktable, I remind self-

I am a Soldier, coupled, plus-

Papa soldier I am-

My wife a soldier’s wife, wedded at company’s salute-

My son, born a soldier’s son, born in military hospitality-

The conglomerate media hydra-

The dramatists and the rating hunters –

dozing relentless coverage, of a soldier’s death-

pits my heart-

betwixt love of family, and love of nation-

The heart contend the degree

upholding the factors for nation’s pride-

“scrambles setting limitations to nation’s safety-

But I to limitations of nation’s safety limits my family’s safety-

I am strong! Yes, I am!

I proclaim, to the uncomfortable tables-

That, that which, is immoral, demoralizes soldiery

The televisions, radios and newspapers-

The quick, the relay pipes-

the mongers of soldier’s death-

Drumming the immoral-union of the upper soprano-

Carousing and caroling the state of frailty of the strong and proud.

Ignoramus, the name of the uninformed-

that the possibility of pain and death in soldiery-

chances the power, the strength and pride-

the victory of victors-

the pride of nationhood-

I am, a soldier, proud and strong! Yes, I am!

Time galloping, whistling the call to duty-

to readiness, the load is belted-

tagged, strong and proud-

I ate and swallowed, mind free from perturbation-

the Newscasters politics-

I worry not at the making of a soldier’s death “the News”

Yes; the making of a soldier’s death - “News”-

The demoralizing, of soldiery in the fields of battle-

The News, the indoctrination that dispirits, and defaces-

the civilians, the noble commoners, to anti soldiery-

The gullible for “News in Death”, -the Soldier’s Death-

The cryptic rats that ravage the obituary pages

Yet the News Channels heartily know,

that: ~ “The Limit to Nation’s safety,

is the limit of the News Channel’s safety;

I am strong!” Yes, I am!

From my office, I proclaim,

I am, a Soldier, proud and strong!

I am strong! And proud!

And finally, the expectation broke the anticipatory gland

The list called out, to the nobles, the spirits of the world,

and among the proud, the strong, I am enabled

A kiss to young wife packaged in a lasting smile,

a kiss to my baby son, with a barge of family’s honor

Worry not, be strong, be strong,

I will come back home to you,

See, son, among the strong and proud,

I, the nation’s hope; I, for the peace of the World

And to my inner self, I proclaim,

I am, a Soldier, proud and strong. I will!

To the field of battle,

to battle for my Country honor

battle for peace in this World

I am, proud and strong. I will! Yes, I will!

Retrenchment, visited at fifth-tear soldiery-

This centrist son, misses the pump

the battles highs and lows

that touched the battles won;

Draft over and therapy engendered,

Soldier’s nightmarish reminder

That the notch is made only on the scale of life

the war’s sorry-sight, rank to the low

The evidently incapacitated; the wounded lion sobs:

"these are not object for the scale

By nether soldiery, nor civilian hardness"

I am strong!

But my physical depletion

is conjuring despicable love,

As the lone wolf's shadow chases him,

he hounds his tail

Finding the moon circling, he bellows “I will…win”

I am, a Soldier, proud and strong; I will win!

Drinking the disability, pains and suffering

and choking on the eyes that roll out

~sympathy and despise, into nicety

even at my flashing pin-ups -the Hero's Shrine

My son, young and innocent,

his infectious rejoicing~ that, I still have.

My wife, young and beautiful,

~the pinnacle of frailty, that, I have lost

Lost to News Channels Daily Sermons

“Soldiers die”, "soldiers dying" , "soldier’s death" ;

Young and pretty, freckles, frail and feeble

Inundated, she had no extra heart capacity to stomach.

Fear drove her from TV

into sympathizer Blue-worker’s arm.

Finding no missing parts in the cubits of the interior

I play the NFL.

I am strong; yes, I am! Touch down,

the stump-leg kicks the extra point from my bed

Dating engages in serious drafting,

eliminating by degree of acceptance

Dancing the rumba- the strong and proud endures, I will!

to life of peace and newness; I; Yes, I will!

To my new job with disability

and new spouse that makes up the lacking,

and disability evoking pre-judgments,

heaves to common caricature

I proclaimed, I am, a Soldier, proud and strong.

The soldier I, I am a Veteran of Wars,

I warred for peace in this World. Yes, I did!

I drove a custom S.U.V. proclaiming~

a soldier I am, proud and strong;

I turned the corner of Dell and I-94,

and there, at the Beggar’s Post stood he

the languishing battle chubby-checker

In full attestation stood he, in proud regalia stood he,

proclaiming, I am a soldier strong and proud!

Homelessness the calamitous veteran’s fortune

He lives with fallen comrades

~the unlucky spirits in shades and darks

He lives in remembrance ~

of him carrying the Nation’s flag to battle

He lives in remembrance

~ the pride of Nation’s glory

Nightmarish is them all in tarter and worn beggar's vest

In the “Nowhere-Street” in the land of the Brave  

The strong and the proud.

O! Comrade, O! Comrade I salute you; yes, I do!

With all the disabilities, pains and sufferings;

faces still speak out loud and clear

I am a soldier, a soldier for my Country, yes, I am!

I fought for the peace in this World. Yes, I did!

The mental sufferings,

lacking inspirational comrade-fellowship-

the high mortality; from sufferings, rejections,

the failure of society’s implant identity “soldier”

yielding societal denunciations,

the unspoken ban,

The embedded silent rejection;

The politically correct tossing of the head,

and or twisting the mouth

Is all present and situated in people-interaction

No complains no regret

just dealing with facts of post war soldier's life

In the Land of the Brave and the Strong.

Amid the indignation and forced inactivates,

I am proud and strong; A Soldier I, yes! I!

the proud, the strong, I make the difference, Yes I!

Chin-up, proud and strong, I salute the President,

I salute the Military;

I salute the America’s might; the difference; Yes! I do!

The soldier I, I am a Veteran of Wars,

I warred for the Peace in this World. Yes, I did!