Eldee's Posts
Nairaland Forum › Eldee's Profile › Eldee's Posts
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 (of 363 pages)
I don't care about Spurs, what I care about is how to effectively end Silvestre's career. Maybe then we'll accept the need to buy a real back-up. |
@Chamo Me sef dey here oooh And market was not good. |
Next season will be really bad. It'll end up with Chelsea and Man Utd getting a good team together and we not buying anyone. It always happens. |
Isn't Sagna meant to be one of our best at the back?? He clearly lost the battle against Bale. |
This was painful |
What's with Gomez and Van P?? |
Commentator forgot to say GOAL!!! |
We sure did miss Van Persie |
Distant memories of Van Persie's first touches pouring back. |
chamotex:Exactly, Silvestre's pushing up left his man open after Sagna's schoolboy error. |
WTF!!! How did Silvestre let that run in front of him too?? It was a goal made in France |
Spiffing buncha plonkers!!! |
wtf!!! |
debosky:I know . . . he was busy celebrating his good punch. And now Vermalen is injured. ![]() |
Emi ke . . . in primary school I denied my name at cane-point ![]() Each time there was a cane right there, my name changed . . . even with my books saying otherwise, I never used the same name twice. |
I just started a topic on the Literature Section that I know no one will ever read let alone comment. ![]() |
Rheinmetal:A killed B when he worked as a Mechanic in 1952 A becomes a policeman and gets right to kill legally. Does that mean A's 1952 crimes disappear?? There goes your flawed argument. Rheinmetal:1. The person now known as Pope Benedict not the office has been accused. There is already enough evidence for this for them to even start to think of suing him. Burden of proof is on the prosecution, not me. 2. The evidence has been brought forward that the letter was not manhandled. 3. Aiite, let's do this again, A kills B, C protects A from federal investigation. Unlawful murder is a crime against the person but concealing it is a crime against the state. Paedophilia is a crime against the person too (Under European Law) and the same could go for it. Now have you read the news today?? Since 2002, heads of state are no longer immune from prosecution before the International Criminal Court. So that's two possibilities . . . Tried in England or tried by the International laws on Child Rights in the ICC. |
Carlosein:So you're proud to admit that 'Saint Peter's successor' committed a crime against humanity and is only escaping from flaws in the law?? Wow!!! I'm apalled . . . WWJD?? |
Rheinmetal:1. Moral Court?? Let's be reasonable supporting paedophilia is worse than murder in any reasonable man's conscience. The Pope already lost the moral battle no doubt about that. 2. Now you missed the second point, paedophilia is a crime against the person . . . concealment of a serious crime is a crime against the State. 3. The charges are yet to be proven, hence the need for a trial. 4. The Vatican is not recognised as a State according to the United Nations. |
naijaking1:It's not a 'cheap propaganda' or anything. I made mention of the fact that the Vatican and christians in general see themselves as morally superior to the secular world. And I just pointed out things anyone can prove and a few I've witnessed myself. . . Forgive me for basing my arguments on fact. |
Olokun - J.P Clark I love to pass my fingers (As tide thro' weeds of the sea And wind the tall fern-fronds) Thro' the strands of your hair Dark as night that screens the naked moon: I am jealous and passionate Like Jehovah, God of the Jews, And I would that you realise No greater love had woman From man than the one I have for you! But what wakeful eyes of man, Made of the mud of this earth, Can stare at the touch of sleep The sable vehicle of dream Which indeed is the look of your eyes! So drunken, like ancient walls We crumble in heaps at your feet; And as the good maid of the sea, Full of rich bounties for men, You lift us all beggars to your breast. |
We Have Come Home - Lenrie Peters We have come home From the bloodless wars With sunken hearts Our booths full of pride- From the true massacre of the soul When we have asked ‘What does it cost To be loved and left alone’ We have come home Bringing the pledge Which is written in rainbow colours Across the sky-for burial But is not the time To lay wreaths For yesterday’s crimes, Night threatens Time dissolves And there is no acquaintance With tomorrow The gurgling drums Echo the stars The forest howls And between the trees The dark sun appears. We have come home When the dawn falters Singing songs of other lands The death march Violating our ears Knowing all our loves and tears Determined by the spinning coin We have come home To the green foothills To drink from the cup Of warm and mellow birdsong ‘To the hot beaches Where the boats go out to sea Threshing the ocean’s harvest And the hovering, plunging Gliding gulls shower kisses on the waves We have come home Where through the lighting flash And the thundering rain The famine the drought, The sudden spirit Lingers on the road Supporting the tortured remnants of the flesh That spirit which asks no favour of the world But to have dignity. |
Abiku - J.P Clark Coming and going these several seasons, Do stay out on the baobab tree, Follow where you please your kindred spirits If indoors is not enough for you. True, it leaks through the thatch When flood brim the banks, And the bats and the owls Often tear in at night through the eaves, And at harmattan, the bamboo walls Are ready tinder for the fire That dries the fresh fish up on the rack. Still, it's been the healthy stock To several fingers, to many more will be Who reach to the sun. No longer then bestride the threshold But step in and stay For good. We know the knife scars Serrating down your back and front Like beak of the sword-fish, And both your ears, notched As a bondsman to this house, Are all relics of your first comings. Then step in, step in and stay For her body is tired, Tired, her milk going sour Where many more mouths gladden the heart. |
Ibadan - J.P. Clark Ibadan, running splash of rust and gold-flung and scattered among seven hills like broken china in the sun. |
Not My Business - Niyi Osundare They picked Akanni up one morning Beat him soft like clay And stuffed him down the belly Of a waiting jeep. What business of mine is it So long they don't take the yam From my savouring mouth? They came one night Booted the whole house awake And dragged Danladi out, Then off to a lengthy absence. What business of mine is it So long they don't take the yam From my savouring mouth? Chinwewent to work one day Only to find her job was gone: No query, no warning, no probe - Just one neat sack for a stainless record. What business of mine is it So long they don't take the yam From my savouring mouth? And then one evening As I sat down to eat my yam A knock on the door froze my hungry hand. The jeep was waiting on my bewildered lawn Waiting, waiting in its usual silence. |
The Renegade - David Diop My brother you flash your teeth in response to every hyprocrisy My brother with gold-rimmed glasses You give your master a blue-eyed faithful look My poor brother in immaculate evening dress Screaming and whispering and pleading in the parlours of condescension We pity you Your country's burning sun is nothing but a shadow On your serene ‘civilized’ brow And the thought of your grandmother's hut Brings blushes to your face that is bleached By years of humiliation and bad conscience And while you trample on the bitter red soil of Africa Let these words of anguish keep time with your restless step Oh I am lonely so lonely here. |
Abiku - Wole Soyinka In vain your bangles cast Charmed circles at my feet; I am Abiku, calling for the first And the repeated time. Must I weep for goats and cowries For palm oil and the sprinkled ash? Yams do not sprout in amulets To earth Abiku's limbs. So when the snail is burnt in his shell Whet the heated fragments, brand me Deeply on the breast. You must know him When Abiku calls again. I am the squirrel teeth, cracked The riddle of the palm. Remember This, and dig me deeper still into The god's swollen foot. Once and the repeated time, ageless Though I puke. And when you pour Libations, each finger points me near The way I came, where The ground is wet with mourning White dew suckles flesh-birds Evening befriends the spider, trapping Flies in wind-froth; Night, and Abiku sucks the oil From lamps. Mother! I'll be the Supplicant snake coiled on the doorstep Yours the killing cry. The ripes fruit was saddest; Where I crept, the warmth was cloying. In the silence of webs, Abiku moans, shaping Mounds from the yolk. |
Erm . . . I was trying to find Abiku and a couple of other poems a few days ago and it was one hell of a mission. It seemed strange to me that we don't have a sticky topic on this section for works of accomplished writers. I just wanted to start this thread for those works we had to study those days. Also for poems that placed these men and women into international limelight. And maybe to serve as a reference for people on the internet. |
frosbel:Those are cases where Christians have implied that they are morally superior only to commit worse atrocities in the end. |
FL Gators:Maynne . . . I need motivation. Just one sample and we'll see where it goes. ![]() |
I need some intellectual ganja!!! Who be dealer for here abeg?? ![]() |
frosbel:Hehehe . . . we all know Christians think they're morally superior. I'm not the one that goes to places of worship of traditional religions to burn them. I'm not the one that went on an 'expedition' to spread Christianity in Africa only to come back with century old artwork. I'm not the one that comes out to openly criticise homosexuality while telling in-house paedophiles to 'put the integrity of the church' first. I see Christianity as a personal relationship with God, organised religion could easily be abused as we saw with the Catholic church killing people for translating the Bible into English. |
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 (of 363 pages)
