Category Archives: Literature

Prose and Poems especially Diaries.

Resurfacing

There are times one gets a hunch
To give life uptight with some punch,
Never letting go though struck so badly
Lots of pains, toils and miseries;
But out of no where an aided victory
A successful feat to crown the efforts.

Yes it seemed dim when it was begun
A cold feet cast as much as procrastination;
Day by day saw the energy put in
To uplift the spirit and sweat like drooping water
Now it seemed the finished line is gone past
As the starting line is vanished in a trance.

Or is it the wasted effort that was never crowned
Or the cheated glory wearing a heavy frown
The nudge to keep on and move ahead
Was replaced by fresher determination of keeping still;
No, a wrongly seeded path was what was known to be discovered.

Alas my soul can rejoice beyond found words
For one has arrived though the path can be repeated;
The resurfacing of Success is neatly woven
As suffering is paved along with it.
Never again shall enemies mock with Pride
For the success of man becomes the ever shining Light.

Esteem

Its like a freckle that is attached to your mien,
Deep of thousands silent words remain,
All there is to soothe the being
The doze of self ever given.

Who says you cannot be known,
Or dare to bring your talents to the fore
Whence at first the move implored,
Estranged a move driven with raw motives.

Such was the output so innocently shown,
That catered a reaction of unwavering tones
This put to measure the beauty of mind,
All that is captured in the brain and heart.

For its the engines that’s struck moves borne,
Thus is the fuel of innovations born
For through it the forging of life sojourn
And all for the adventure of esteem won.

Reworking the Genius in you!

Like a Dream that has become real, so is the day clear and free.
Thoughts of endless virtues stroll by, waiting for which to be welcomed by the heart.
Still, none is made a home as undivided resolutions storms the brain for needy growth;
Like a self driven by the wind, is the trickling of a firm resolve waving through its searching heart.
Yet memories pervades it too, demanding for a negotiable space to own its reign,
Never, never again will all these pull its weight on you, for a steady ground will you emerge victorious.

For in the growing of self, history was formed, and without error were you carved;
To search the world for fame or shame, of which either shall stand its gain.
You till and sweat with suffering for bread, hoping for bread to earn you strength.
And yes, you emerge a conqueror in thy conquest and quickly is forgotten all you strive to get you there.
The gifts you plunge as you await to implore, power, women and wealth stashed to your humble abode.
When without warning you heed the pride you rot so deep that without notice you’re quickly dethroned.

Then like a thunderbolt, it strikes you with remorse, that the world moves without a floss,
Hoping to glide and swim in its waters, unaware that you’re stagnant and thus replaced;
Now you know its by chance, choice of turns to enter and leaves its stage only but once,
But no you wish to fight and hope to remain the greatest creature to forever be first that ever lived.

Who told you that such is the trend, when there are others who had being where you stand but at different ways,
Their methods make the world accord them with accolades, in simple and effortlessly beckoned push.
That at times, it cot you your fame, replaced when there’s a struggle of unique streaks,
And like past you remain glorious, when at every future they make the headlines;
Now you know its about some certain trend that needs to be shaken with some pluses and minuses of your being.

So is the principles that has now made you almost extant, while these silently famous people makes news,
Their composition different from yours, that to be like them you quietly dump the awards you’ve won.
Such is the change sought to equal yourselves with them, in shocking discovery they too share some you;
The you in weaknesses endeared becomes the production of talents endured;
The you in talents won is their quiet path for future borne;
The you in those things you struggle to know is their rope of friendship savored;
That you you quietly hide is their obvious naked threat to perceive the world;
That you that screams in its entirety becomes their measure to motivate the you that prays the world never sees.

What differentiates them from you is the change of priorities, self and many that is similar or unknown;
In contrasting and comparing, they too are not far from what, how and where of development of being,
Rather its easy to quietly pass them by with how you discovered them than to announce its process
Or even to switch lanes and paths builds the system of dialogue, communication and meetings;
Yet this is little compared to a zillion actions and reactions of you is the creation of you found in another.

To investigate further if your the only unique specie, will you be struck in awe of other shocking results,
Shrinks, Clairvoyants, Mutants of different discipline streams across the world, even more that equal the presence of Angels;
Like their presence is a kind of service to spring a fair balance of the world.
This too cannot explain your relentless efforts keep the search, more stunning revelations to rest the intention,
A Dream wanting a best of reason only explained by God of all Gods, the arrival of such is the You-Reinvented!

Rugged

Never did I imagine as I take an inventory of my life, That Life has made me crooked with many twists and turns. Whenever I slide through the pages of my childhood pictures I see someone who loves to make room for everyone Such I thought would be my lot in my upcoming growth, For such is dashed behind the limelight all that makes it work.   Yet who knew I could end up this way, As I shoulder the wake of every lost dream, If only I build myself a never-ending realm; Or forge ahead with an indescribable but motivating beam, All experiences, encounters and challenges grown like a must Is what my life to behold has come to entrust.   Appreciation to all those known and unknown, seen, yet to be seen and unseen who has formed and shaped me.     Never again would I doubt myself or even discard the innermost thought Be it Conscience or hunch let alone a path I have thrust to entrust, The results thrown far in a mirage light, to begin lies thorns so numerous to count; It may begin with deception but its still the first bite of determination; Whatever or however it can be its a journey for motivation’s boost to decrypt.   Thus its my life shared in little words, for to tell it to you may be encyclopedic enough, I have come to accept whatever fate faith wants to reveal as it permeates whoever chose to unveil it, For it surely takes two to make it happen, The first is me but unknown is the other who comes forth.

Camping Orientation of A Newly Trained Peace Patriot.

Marching on in Pride of Ego bestowed
Is the parade of man whom never dreamt a day like this,
Repressing quickly the pains that wrought such Victory;
Redressing the gains of newly found History.
Hail to those whom I now represent,
A para-military endowed in the training of Peace.

For in recounts of some thousands flashbacks,
Were some embittered tails and ignorant fight backs,
Before then but now perceived as transformed Combat;
Of Orientation in thoughts, actions and all.
Patiently will I tell my story
Of how newly odd thoughts changed a strangely unique Patriot like Me.

Is it the shocking arrival gift to the Camp,
The Drill of Carrying Bags on the head like Villagers on Transit,
Or the rolling of a White shirt turned brown
As its baptised in muddy waters while tossed;.
Oh yes, its done by a human to another Human,
Sought in Pleasure of large numbers of new comers.

Such was the deal that seems to be the drill,
Of expectant hope dashed in escapades of quick lightening.
I thought to be welcomed a fresh incoming cadet,
But to my dismay, behold a dirty bloody civilian;
To my deepest regret I felt I’m in the wrong place,
Though unknown to me this is a welcome gift.

Or was it another bizzare encounter,
A sound of trumpet commanding a thundering rush.
Out came all in white over blue clothings with socks and canvass;
Dare to dodge in the midst of them struggling in the push,
To be the first to arrive only to sit on your buttocks.
Pin your nyash, as its called in groups of three columns,
The standard procedure of how to meet in every call.

Most times unknown is the reason behind the call,
Surprising still the number of times to attend to such,
For it may be for Parade, Lecture or Tattoo;
Still one deserves to answer whenever its blown.
Of all the three reasons behind the reason of Call,
Parade is the mostly done exercise that was ever known.

A reason no Cadet or Officer may deny,
That Marching though of its own accords high repute.
Taught extensively above the rest like one who prays daily;
And more reasons too many to fetch.
We learned from scratch to finish how its done,
No matter tiring our bodies at first till our feet went sore.

Yet again is another reason of precedence,
The tattoo of which I can’t trace why its called so.
Described when all gathers to sing unrelentlessly,
Songs of Jungle experience and untraced lyrics.
Held every night and sometimes in the wee hours
Thus denying me from sleep irrespective of its reoccurence.

Then came the Lecture, the silently occurring program,
Scheduled at its due time like one assembled in a classroom.
Various topics of different issues discussed as well interactive;
From technical Professionals and learned Experts.
I thought I could learn dozens of lessons from them.
Unknown to me and my colleagues, such moments were quickly forgotten.

Those were the chiefly things that went by
Ad mist some lucrative things to animate the training.
That ran the course of a full months
With Breaks and change of location across its path;
It began like the day of the end should quickly come,
As the reverse is what I can’t describe is the karma I pray.

For the odd thoughts poured from my being,
The clashing of negative mood beating hard;
Wishing I waited for the end of the training.
Not knowing I was in the wrong build of formation,
For unknown came my deliverance and gradual departure,
Of Change into likeness of all its acts.

Days came speeding to weeks,
Gladly attuned to the training wrought,
Wishing the days counted backwards,
As I begged each day for its amends;
Though reverted can’t bring my mess so much
With the struggle and energy of today’s lot.

So friends I stand to gain after my blind anguish,
The training of so little compared to the course it goes
That in a month, these virtues of learning so much is taught;
Should it be in uninterrupted may end in six.
Ever grateful wells from me and my trainers’ commitment,
I’m a Peace Patriot, O world behold me as such!

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered

Pessimistic Bells

The sun rises above my skin with dim rays of hope
I seek to ponder in pending pensive premonition
How I wish to relate history in lyrics that can’t rhyme with tales
When life challenges to swing strife with unrelenting divides
Never to forget Success strides that rolls on through calm trails.

That one seems lost in the destination of Change
In new twist of different turns and themes
There seem to be the most wanted needs
Clashing with less desired wants and thrills
Yet these is ever difficult to spot in the development
Of the sojourn of experiences and encounters forlorn.

Never did one know the end of the beginning from its beginning of its end
Praying to perceive the trends of life’s favourite bends
Cajoled in the maxim, becoming his favourite words:
Had I known… Should I had known; I thought I knew
Starting with little efforts with early signs of giving up
Is the zeal of high motivation proceeds to faint dash of hope.

To what reasons is there that amounts to the piles of work
Left for the initiative of the wise to accomplish obviously seen
Motifs was there but now lost, Morale was high but now dim
All bought by excuse that tags him a Lazy Achiever,
Despite the frustrations present building like a bridge
A mountain its become in the Fatigue of Handwork’s Ridge. .

Indescribable Weirdness

Never again will I be so queer and strangely weird
Even if I begin to sound through my words,
That life to me with the people in my World,
Is of timeless display of characters both good and bad;
Nevertheless I shall sojourn in it with a piece of me
To regain the path of Wisdom or Folly in me.

For in trying to express I seem to repress,
Life’s countless dramas of moods and disposition.
Bearing in mind its the History of One
Which in generality becomes the mindset of all;
Thoughts fallen short in validity and concise detail
Still is the window of what the world be.

Here’s the marvel of Life’s Challenges
Is the battle of win and lose struggles,
If won by me, the ego is lauded
If lost, the pain tunes up the bruises caused;
Across my priorities, disposition and properties,
Is the amount of Risks and profit rewarded.

Whence tis the reaction from people,
Who try to swing all that them heathens,
In their actions and words so non civil;
Is my interpretation to pray for a change in them.
Though its like asking God to be man,
Still I seek to transform the good in them.

Yet I’m lost in the quest to sustain the change,
To stir the motivation that quickly wanes.
For to interact with man despite all his odds,
Is like bathing a fine stone with sweet perfume;
A little while you’re happy to associate with him
Only for another moment to cross the lines and divide the spoils.

Or about me who’s trying to identify mine,
Spotting all the Weaknesses, Dislikes and any odds.
I award myself by reducing such hard facts for Talents
When in essence, the odds should be my burning fuel,
To maintain a fair balance to others and Nature,
Letting out it no matter how its emitted.

This at times colours the trait of the unknown to me,
Of Traitor, Weakling, Hypocrite,Confused and all its negatives,
Owing to fear of those around me-whoever to me;
The vent of character hardly shown, barely noticed
Is my prayer to use as a divine tool through me.
So I may work with God and Neighbours to pave my path.

Thus this is like a touch of thick and thin,
Between who’s sane among you and me.
Like a game of luck or chance a die is cast
Disclosing probabilities of Contrast and Differences;
Yet a winner must exist, with near or far outcomes
Its neither you or I or astonishingly so, another else

In my gain of saying, I speak wisely
And bet to challenge you can do better;
Though I wait that man may attain;
The awareness to reduce the insanity of this cruel world,
By ensuing Love- any kind especially from the Heart,
And to heal another with justified works and Prayers.

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered

Meaningless Success

Living among Gods who cannot speak
While thinking of how to make Dreams the best Robot;
Neither of them brings home through Love,
Or put to birth meaningful Wisdom.
Yet a word composed is good to hear,
But so absurd to see its reality appear.

That in nonsense Life is brought,
When in essence its goodness rot;
For the Risks, Dangers and Hazards sought;
Such upheld more than Gold struck.
Little Wonder the Success is silently won,
As the noise of all odds is celebrated with fun.

So, to everyman who plays the tune of odds,
And dances to the rhythm of a good man’s fortune,
Fewer but nearer is the Glory fading;
In heralds of Praises and loud acclamations.
For tomorrow shall be that unknown day to reckon.
The Patience of the Wise but Quiet effort of that man pulls through.

Who will reveal such a wonder of the work displayed
That denies the price of good fortunes purchased;
When before history made, the thoughts were portrayed,
In raw forms not compared as the test of modern tools betray.
Such gradually transformed to what one hardly invents
As the founder, author or maker glows faint in Glory rays.

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered

Its but a Mistake

You’ve bought a Land and have begun to build. Nothing was said to you till you were done. Then the travails of authentication begins with Certificate of Occupancy. And sooner than that a Tractor appears. With a quick notice he pulls down the house. Which lasted for two days of as this coincides with the day the family moves in. Thrown in Confusion and being numb you trace the agent whom got you the land. A fresh case begins starring you, the agent, the police and the real owner. In all the Struggle you discovered, he’s just making business as he tries to cheat the owner. Wife and Children seems to accept Daddy is the cheat. Oh Father please mourn the pain and start all over again but with patience to deal with things like this with a Pinch of Salt.

Wedding Day is here with Joyful tidings. Both Families prepare with sleepless night a colourful wedding endeared with lots of good memories. Off these come to church as well as Bride and Groom. All is set for the Groom to come to Church only to knock down a young child who never saw him coming. He forgot this is his day to cater for the Child as he rushes him to the Hospital as well with his mother. Still after all was done he was stopped by the angry mob who thought he was at fault but he pleaded for pardon nonetheless. He was set free seeing his innocence as he hurriedly came to marry his bosom friend. In astonishment, he finds an empty church. The Church was done waiting and the wedding cancelled. But all this he put aside except to make a second trip to the Hospital. His bosom friend waiting anxiously is now in coma of which he hardly knew if she’ll make it. She happens to be the only daughter in the family of nine. Now he has to add how to convince them all.
What a deep mess this is, lots of energies to explain as well as moods to display. A mistake of an Accident of that can’t be easily proven. Have faith for the Holy Spirit will save you from this one. If he’s to handle alone, he’ll lose everything and everyone.

Mistakes like this are bound to happen. It does strengthens the visions of placing our Priorities. Though inevitable it may still come. Either as temptations, Encounters and whatever its called. Whether prepared or not, it placed on you. Just to undergo healing, experiences and all.
Many think it can never come or over prepared is their lot but its a rude shock for such is designed by God. Just as one can’t read God, so One can’t tell what’s next. If good comes, Celebrate but for a little while and don’t get Carried away. Lest, it may be an indescribable account according to how your tell it. Mistake does not happen to a single person frequently as it does happen to different backgrounds, class of people repeatedly. A descendant of Temptation if you may call it signalling you to review the aspect of life one’s living. As each and everyone of we human beings have gone through such an encounter. What differs is the degree and number of times we fall for it.

The remedy and a relieving solution as well as step when faced to situations like this is to put on the right to forget as you weave it with the correction of building the strength of Positivity.

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered

When shall it be “When”?

Too much to say as even more is the pile of works
When either increases proportionally, or the variance inversely
Wisdom clothed when its reversed to shame empty words
Or is stripped naked when there are noises made from every sounds.
In Preference, one is above the other irrespective of its presence
For its a choice of the being who creates its path of Personality.

Who is the person that dares to make a start
In that change that is close to perfection
Though it makes such equal to God
Yet it is but a start amongst many other changes to face
Started with little things behind the will and priority
Is the union and fusion of harsh and search judgement.

Who emerges victorious in constancy and consistency
Over the tides, thick and thin between good and bad
Yet the difficulty to spot which is the neither or either
Construes and complicates but determine or motivates
The being entangled in life challenges amidst noise and works entailed.

In one is the ever strenuous strife to uphold and sustain
The character renowned across other persons involved
For in totality of such works brings forth the birth of Society
Filtered in multiplied acts of Virtues and Vices, Good and Evil.
Still Perfection doesn’t make the limelight rather in fowl cry,
Measuring the God-like tendencies through words and deeds

Thus is the pensive mood breeding lots of tensed actions
Triggering ignorant result of mediocrity and pessimisms.
Should it be the disposition of character portrayed,
Could it transform to optimism and finesse instead?
Such is the middle gate between all beings who build a life,
To swim between the Devil and the deep blue sea of strife.

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered