₦airaland Forum

THE LONELY SOUL

Jerry Okeowo
May 6, 2010

The deceased has brought me thus;
Into the hands of the lackadaisic ones,
Giving me the reversal of grass to grace

Maybe its my fate,
But still trying to survive
Paving way in the dark,
Made me remember my past;
When I was like a king in a kingdom,
Cherished like the Gold of Galam,
Now, unworthy like the Trash of Trinidad

Absolutely transient,

Being raised in a palace
And ending up in a cold arctic,
Being a presage to the people around me,
Dreaming of wraiths and rats,
And not even the sun to dry up my tears.

Source - LinkedIn

TOGETHER FOREVER

Jerry Okeowo
June 27, 2011

The sun has risen between us,
Between two inscrutable pines,
And our leaves winter-stripped and Unclad
Whenever the sky opens its misty eyes,
Leaving behind a solitary stem

Surely! Renaissance will come as always
To awaken our spirits
And make our leaves glow with pride,
Leaving our branches leaning on each other
Together forever.

Source - LinkedIn

CIVILIZED ANIMALS

Jerry Okeowo
May 11, 2011

Civilization! Here we cry,
For order we are here deprived,
By none but us the self relied,
That run the gauntlet of selfish fangs,

To live and act like the Jack and Boots,
This! Our patterns would love to recruit,
For some of them are made in our likes;
In face, in acts, impulse and instincts,
Though weighty the burden must be,
Powerful it makes us at last,
Though power corrupts in the wrong hands,
It makes us outfox one another to live,

For we are all wrong hands,
It only makes our animal nature sophisticated,
And our atmosphere filled with tense panic.

Source - LinkedIn

DREAMS & RIDDLES

Jerry Okeowo
July 5, 2014

We all have it but can't seem to lose it;
The shadows that traileth the path of love is something to preserve and if possible, immortalize
I gaze into the sky and wonder how it came to be
You, us, the love we share,
But then, I could only come to a conclusion of destiny

Dreams, sewn in the milky way,
Slides straight into the mind of the rebel,
And the choices made thereafter, are a product of the person,
For when a door is not a door; It is always ajar.

I crave your touch in every way,
In dreams; that I might make sweet love to you,
And in nightmares; that I might have a companion through the struggle,
REM sleep in the twilight, makes me wonder if I'll ever see the sun rise
But then, the thought of my love, gives me a reason to strive

That which has a body but has no neck,
Is not enough to contain the love I've got to share,
For a bottle without a crown, Is bound to be filled to the brim,

I love you like I would never love again,
Though, I fear circumstances might put a hole in our midst,
For the truth which I fear, Is none, but the thought of holding you back with my struggle,

The future seems vague,
Just like the number of our fingers vary in every dream,
But when a tree is not a tree,
Its either razed by fire and turned to ashes,
Or stands in a mansion as a masterpiece to glorify the abode with beauty,

Which depicts the reason why the choice of a rebel is most important,
He could either choose to chase a good life, Or wallow in negativity,

The riddle of my life is something I am yet to unfold,
But when I do, you will always be my queen,
Till the end of time.

Source - LinkedIn

WRY SMILE OF SORROW

Jerry Okeowo
July 3, 2012

Curfew of fear keeps me from flying,
Like a whithered feather unfit for flight,
None but I could understand my plight;
That someday I might look at my scar,
And pity the dent in my spine,

The sting of adversity that struck in the melee
Has made birds of a feather flock separately,
Like a rigid piece of poo that wouldn't flush,
Firmly; Thoughts dangle in my heart like a golden
cross;
Extinction has now become a thing of adoration,
And nothing feels more exciting than being banished,
For I could only see death as a prerequisite to a
soothing rest,
Most controversial; I would rather it to a milky bed,

Now, jamming vibes of sad instrumental,
Fills my soul like dirt on a rusty metal,
That I will fall a pretty pink petal,
Is nothing but a dream of a routeless magi,

Though I hear;
None would spare
The joy they've got to share,
Yet;
I crave to get in any way
It's spoils, dumped in the mud and has been left to rot,

But, Alas! The fields of peace have been emptied
And the debris of hope, buried,
For if it hadn't;
It would have been that i've found a diamond cherry,
In the host of Gaia berries,
But, the drama of joy without the crew of glory,
Is like a merry ferry heading for its peril,

Had I known;
The anguish the cock will later crow,
I would have painted my last true smile.

Source - LinkedIn

LONE RANGER

Jerry Okeowo
May 7, 2010

Sitting in the world's extreme corner,
Like a lone mat-weaver
Neither distraction nor focus conceals me,
But mysterious patterns I conceive.

Like a madman chasing nothing;
My brain works tirelessly
And only feels distress at rest,
Tumor knocks at the door to my head,
But only gets a chance at the market place,
Breeze, Beach, Beam
Where comfort delights my soul,

For exhibitions, many wish they were me,
Not if they could see the inside of my unhappiness,

Eyes the shady night will shut,
And ears the earth will stop,
To lay the stage for the nocturnal dreamweaver,
And welcome the lone ranger into another world of
loneliness.

Source - LinkedIn

LADY OF THE LAKE

Jerry Okeowo
May 27, 2011

Paving through the sharps of the forest,
Frail, frantic and flailing,
Unaware of the path to explore,
I can only go beyond and forget,

Boulder-dashed, which led me to the still waters,
Like a zephyr in a vacuum,
I dropped the world off my shoulder;
To have a sip which might be my very last,
-Taking every gulp with ease, like an Iguana,
-It stretched my muscles, like the neck of an Ilama,
Almost out of space,
Until I made a sudden flush from the flinch of a
frangipani,

I turned and behold a perfect figure,
With eyes like pearls and hair strands like wool,
With bosoms like pines and neck like stem,
Moderately sealed in a mild and tender skin like
cinnamon,
Wonderfully created to give every head a bolt of
thunder at sight,

Mustering all the courage I could get,
I gave her my blue-eyed-faithful look,

Praising the path I had come by,
And showing inward gratitude to the monsters that
chased me nigh,
Bursting out with an enchanted smile,
She took my hand and I held her's tight,
Paving through the lillies by the lake:
I was led to the fountain of sweet waters,
To have a sip which might be the threshold of an aura.

Source - LinkedIn

I personally feel anyone could be a great poet. Its all a function of our individual passion.

Over time, I have read the likes of Goerge Awonor Williams, Wole Soyinka, John Pepper Clark...etc. But I realized I just wanted more and something in line with my own personal realities.

A few days ago, I bumped into this guy's profile on LinkedIn and ever since, I have been sticking around, waiting patiently for him to drop new lines.

Stalking you may call it....but I am going to be posting his amazing write-ups below.

Here is his pic...........and he goes by the name Jerry Okeowo.

THE LONELY SOUL

Jerry Okeowo
May 6, 2010

The deceased has brought me thus;
Into the hands of the lackadaisic ones,
Giving me the reversal of grass to grace

Maybe its my fate,
But still trying to survive
Paving way in the dark,
Made me remember my past;
When I was like a king in a kingdom,
Cherished like the Gold of Galam,
Now, unworthy like the Trash of Trinidad

Absolutely transient,

Being raised in a palace
And ending up in a cold arctic,
Being a presage to the people around me,
Dreaming of wraiths and rats,
And not even the sun to dry up my tears.

Source - LinkedIn

WRY SMILE OF SORROW

Jerry Okeowo
July 3, 2012

Curfew of fear keeps me from flying,
Like a whithered feather unfit for flight,
None but I could understand my plight;
That someday I might look at my scar,
And pity the dent in my spine,

The sting of adversity that struck in the melee
Has made birds of a feather flock separately,
Like a rigid piece of poo that wouldn't flush,
Firmly; Thoughts dangle in my heart like a golden
cross;
Extinction has now become a thing of adoration,
And nothing feels more exciting than being banished,
For I could only see death as a prerequisite to a
soothing rest,
Most controversial; I would rather it to a milky bed,

Now, jamming vibes of sad instrumental,
Fills my soul like dirt on a rusty metal,
That I will fall a pretty pink petal,
Is nothing but a dream of a routeless magi,

Though I hear;
None would spare
The joy they've got to share,
Yet;
I crave to get in any way
It's spoils, dumped in the mud and has been left to rot,

But, Alas! The fields of peace have been emptied
And the debris of hope, buried,
For if it hadn't;
It would have been that i've found a diamond cherry,
In the host of Gaia berries,
But, the drama of joy without the crew of glory,
Is like a merry ferry heading for its peril,

Had I known;
The anguish the cock will later crow,
I would have painted my last true smile.

Source - LinkedIn

LONE RANGER

Jerry Okeowo
May 7, 2010

Sitting in the world's extreme corner,
Like a lone mat-weaver
Neither distraction nor focus conceals me,
But mysterious patterns I conceive.

Like a madman chasing nothing;
My brain works tirelessly
And only feels distress at rest,
Tumor knocks at the door to my head,
But only gets a chance at the market place,
Breeze, Beach, Beam
Where comfort delights my soul,

For exhibitions, many wish they were me,
Not if they could see the inside of my unhappiness,

Eyes the shady night will shut,
And ears the earth will stop,
To lay the stage for the nocturnal dreamweaver,
And welcome the lone ranger into another world of
loneliness.

Source - LinkedIn

LADY OF THE LAKE

Jerry Okeowo
May 27, 2011

Paving through the sharps of the forest,
Frail, frantic and flailing,
Unaware of the path to explore,
I can only go beyond and forget,

Boulder-dashed, which led me to the still waters,
Like a zephyr in a vacuum,
I dropped the world off my shoulder;
To have a sip which might be my very last,
-Taking every gulp with ease, like an Iguana,
-It stretched my muscles, like the neck of an Ilama,
Almost out of space,
Until I made a sudden flush from the flinch of a
frangipani,

I turned and behold a perfect figure,
With eyes like pearls and hair strands like wool,
With bosoms like pines and neck like stem,
Moderately sealed in a mild and tender skin like
cinnamon,
Wonderfully created to give every head a bolt of
thunder at sight,

Mustering all the courage I could get,
I gave her my blue-eyed-faithful look,

Praising the path I had come by,
And showing inward gratitude to the monsters that
chased me nigh,
Bursting out with an enchanted smile,
She took my hand and I held her's tight,
Paving through the lillies by the lake:
I was led to the fountain of sweet waters,
To have a sip which might be the threshold of an aura.

Source - LinkedIn