₦airaland Forum

upon the stars we gazed
in allure of brightness
&succint phases of faces
stainless we were
void of spot
nor wrinkle at birth
as upon the earth we journeyed
crossing path with dirt
with myth & marauders
who by powers
casted shadows upon the pelvet of our faith
shambles rolled therein
taking us like refugees
to the land where men
are prey to tyranny
in dungeon we were dragged
with ropes upon the neck of choices
how do men revel?
in abilities to remain stainless
of faith and choice of life
doom they say is the child of ill-choices
served in plates of slavery
of mind and thought pattern
such that men wander
in pulpits of inconvenience
&pews of choicelessness
either to be a prayed prey
or a stainless soul
void of dirt
&manors of the evil world
right choices accrues life & pride upon the lame shoulders of faith
&knowledge
in distress we pertook
in a bout
to be a prey or rather
remain stainless
&day in &out
in barns of minutes&seconds
we question our souls
am i stainless?
#korede_isaac
@2018.

REDInks:
The full book..... http://www.solidfiles.com/v/52Gm55xMnMjQa

just follow the link above

sazy:
How did u download it?

ibrahimclouds. and this is how the morrow fared.

and the morrow came
in gowns of wild lullaby
&duvets of great harmony
crowned in heads of emotions
riding the bracelet wheels of deep feelings

how the earth revolves
in circular tones of love
on the pages of my heart
&from the trees where poets grew
in bunches & armies
in it i took a treat
of apples that grew on fertile minds of great poets
with i served
my plates with sound words of love
mixed in pastas of rhymes
&cookies of great mind
till all took a swirl
as the day begun in full swing
with lanes and moves clusttered
with rises and jams
of work and works

attire grew in fabrics of love
all day long
in banter of remembered dreams
till i washed my thoughts
in pools of poetic theories
for there great abilities lie
to do and redo
of love and thoughts
@korede_isaac

Ibrahimclouds:
You can reach me on facebook @ Ibrahim Clouds.
my profile picture is that of a young architect drawing on a table.

alright,i will add you up soonest.

ibrahimclouds....you are great bro. can i meet you?

wow! this is really great. thumbs up. btw i just downloaded the pdf.

and here i stand
upholding the lane of choices
poised between two upholstery
finding the middlebelt
in a world
ruled by duality
God or mammon
Good or bad
thus i thought
on a way forward
is burning of wills & fortunes
on the isle of mixed feelings
to where i go
is a product of choices
written or oral
whether the ascribed or prescribed
also the assumed or the presumed
unviewed or previewed
either will lead to a road
that joins the lane of
knowledge
of good
or otherwise
towards actualisation
is a juncture of mind feud
& a plater of conflict
# korede_isaac
2018.

when smile fades
in pool of cries
sickened by trickled discouragement
hope seem lost
.
when pain erupts
from crust to dust
in multiples of dismay
hope vanishes
.
in distress & trouble
when men lack power
from an overdue tyranny
hope is a lost course
.
in turbulent drives
when the boat of love sank
in rivers of brokeness
hope is a remedy
.
when change is promised
to innocent citizens
of fake trust &vote
hope is unstablished
.
when bomb popped
of lowly wretched man
in suits of suicidal shirts
hope is vanished
.
when nations rose
in attempts of peace
to flush corruption
hope is pivotal
.
when all blossoms
in gardens of white roses
&glides of lovely trails
hope is restored
.
in flaws of identity
when a soul is sacrificed
in woods of crosses
hope is eternal
.
in success of life
of radiant smiles
placed on treasured heart
hope is revitalized
.
HOPE; a price for the prize,
# korede_isaac
2018.

underneath the moonlight sky
&beneath a blanket of stars
a time when the spindle of stars becomes a garden of galaxies
i lay in a land afar of
quiet in privy peace
&smiling in blurred lightening
all i can hear is a lonesome breath
panting away the stigma of pains that robbed my pleasure
tinge of hours passed like second
in the heart of the sky i pinned
logging my wishes in the rivers that sank beneath the pelvet of silver
making letters from the pages of clouds
&melting my stony heart into cottons of white snows
in peace of love
until love melts its way via the syrup of medicine
as an antidote to my sickened heart
till love swayed my blurry eyes
to the land
of
dreams
&visions.
#korede_isaac
2018.

in the days when the land was barren
moments when the forest is curtailed in depth of deserts
tears rolled down the lanky sun
as he cried the rivers through the ocean of restlessness
waters turned blood in bowls and cups of unity
&upon the land man wander
in soils of pale poverty
in shallows of peace&love
miles ponder on the distance to trek
in pairs of wretched legs
in tattered rags upon the shoulders of the mighty
valors turned cowards
as eatables became forbidden
candles of lightening spit darkness of sick light
thunders struck in large spins as strikes sailed innocent roofs
clattering the foreheads of foremost clans
inviting plagues upon the lands
mount melts at sights of impaired vision
invaders trailed in bunches
in gunters and riffles
were the bullets of disunity shot
&upon the pillows of terror the king laid
there it is like a minute ago
when nemesis paid its way in
in holes and open
till the past haunted the placade of the present.
&the curses fulfilled in solo drama

upon the lone valley we travelled
in the prime of the sour night
accross the sleeping moon
&in great strides we walked
humming inspired hymns of hope
like pilgrims to a far country
ruffling dry leaves beneath our foot
under the shade that chastise its heir
in deep sleep we sang the song of cries
in bodies of water we
swam the lake of victory.
`
caves inspired a toll of darkness
deep in the night of sorrow
flood washed the muddy lanes
rain chatters the blinds of sleep
hunger sang its rendition
all making melodies that springs the tap of pain
of cries and laughter
when baloons of hope is darted
when the trees blossoms
death trolls the boundary of life
yelling out names in solo
voices
yet,
peace bask its way in
eluding sorrow's succinty
&here we are today
yesterday is gone
in silence of defeat.
# korede_isaac
2018.

izzybobo writes.

krissconnect abeg come continue na.

nice update ma'am. keep it rolling i'm enjoying ya'

trouble brew,enmity about to emanate
the smell of war aromate the unlearned underaged soldiers aspiring for the bout
races gathers deliberating on the shortcomings and benefits
their opulence is raised as the everest
the aftermath never crossed the pytagoras of their triangle
war is the sound of the ticking clock
the atmosphere smells trouble
the clumsy market square is fizzled with officials
silent as the cradle of ghost-sleepers
everyone sits at home salivating a cruel kombat
confidence grew with great pulse
the whole had a pinnacle of revenge to strike out
all with the same mind
thunders roared in similitude of seconds
its time for WAR
nonetheless,
a man in gray reminisce on the forward
war! he exclaimed
the nightmare of an haunted countryside
the resounding effects leaves ruins begging
think of the afterward
you will definitely have a rethink
no country remains the same afterward
it's never an addition
though it may seem convincing
it's always a subtraction
revenge fuels the rageof war
yes,
its a NEGATIVE

for today i walk the valley painted in colors
thd striations arose minds of creativity
give me a widespread
a gloom of canvas buckets of different hues for i journey to the far east
a land of artistic influence where ideas flow undisturbed
where geeks rose from the bed of many colors where the sun of talents evaporate the waters of dullards
tiles carved in shapes of 'adire' walls of dotted strokes
a city where the buckets of ideas is drowned in the rivers of learning
the twinkle sparks the lightening of rainbows makimg melodrama of gongs
all in one.one in all
oil paint ascribed a convocation of lines in the clouds of colors rocking and rolling the turnar's paint
bluffing with the winston's brush
another with the tedar's baskets
full of oranges of pencils &apples of mild inks
one lodged in others arm
as each flogs the barn of art
and art crying the waters of genius personality crushing in the crucible of hidden talents
the pregnancy of art inclined babies is concieved
only in the world of ART

WHIZKIDEFE:
I specially invited you here to read my story. You are highly welcome. Please queue up, so ikdbabie can give you your coke and popcorn.
Please read and share your thoughts (critics and corrections).
Thanks in advance
.
.
weetymhi, Adeolaraji, Wordsmith001, Ayoomolabake,
jweasley, silver94, Missnande,
shinitz, LalasticSeun, weedtaker,
Amysharp, MhizSuccess, mirob,
SamuelTurner, Qasaforlife, princekami
, adeewa18, ninihorlah, Hada2020,
mishB, Gloryejims, oluwaseun15,
cyber5, ItsBolaji, izzybobo49,
Holluwaphlexy, Tessyhorlar, jokepearl
, MaestroKels, Tobennz,
Naezara, Awesome55, vickyluvspices, seun9303, rosalieene,
centitan, Xteljay, Dhemmyjay,
IfeomaRash, sandraese, ikechizoba

Thanks for the mention.

.i'm here...
gimme $5000 worth of popcorn.
[sitting on the plastic chair]
kwantinu please...

noble4d:
Splendid brother, how come I didn't see this earlier. I love the language of this poem but not without little flaw. Take note of your punctuations.

Thanks bro.
i really appreciate your observation.

*panting heavily* wow! wow!! wow!! finally got here. thumbs up theblessed man. i duff my butts.
more inspiration. 0 _Your No 1 fAn

Nice work. More update.

ok. following. mrs laurASS. it is well kwantinu (in patience jonathan's voice)

oga krissconnect, update dey hunger me o. biko come update na. **head buried**

krissconnect:
thanks bro. Updates soon

thanks man. can't wait for the next line of action. kwantinu...

this is what i call "fantatainment". enjoying every bit of it.very interesting. mention me for next update.

jeez!!! i really enjoyed this story. following bumper to bumper. abeg,mention me for your next update. .i duff my hat for you @krissconnect.
you are worth more. thumbs up.

miles beyond the scrapper i marvel
wandering and lost in millions of thought
her fragrance bethroted my admirations
aimfully assentuating the focals of the enchanting queen
the thread that joins the heart thickens as i drew nigh
she's lovely,indeed
she's got the pristine voice bevelled in terrestial altos
shades of hues formed trails of beauty in her
lovely legs she's got
accurate fingers as of a model
picking legs with fine accuracy
i admire her so much
on and on i could go for eons
whisking my ink on the embossed paper
to make my affections known
but shy impede the cycle of mounted charity
i'm of a surety
i will tell my chronicles to her one day
the day the moon will be crowned the lord of noon
after the coronation of the crow as the janitor of morning signals. till then,my diary will intone her beauty reports on its pages.
#poetic
izzybobo writes
2017.

thank God you are back_ i'm enjoying it.keep it rolling!'

the darling morning woke from its slumber,
denying the chieftaincy of the night
running through the maze of darkness
crawling through the hazy of thick clouds
&rallying the championship of light and darkness
the place where the giants fought
breaking bones of the stars
&whipping the cloaky moon
in cold blood, both parties screamed,
howlings that could pass for an alarm
only night - lenders watched the show.
in grave silence,the night passed by
he lost the duel,
clasp of lightenings coronates the morning,
he won the bout!
- it's a bright morning here.
it's a lovely sight.
# poetic

cries and lies
plaques and ages
the difference is clear
wandering the expanse of thoughts
i marvel to see her
with flowing gown and blistering jewelries
coupled with the indian made bracelets
adorned in great apparel
the pride of the mother earth
slowly she advanced towards me
but,she couldn't muster the courage
the evil grin she wore inscribed disappointment
she sure came to tell me
that.,
all the love and affection were FAKE
she's getting married in coming days,
i jolted forth like a bursted baloon
are you for real??
definitely YES!!!
"so she lied to me"
all the sane years i spent

its all but vanity....
Fake Love.
# poetic
izzybobo writes.

.
thudding down the crust like flooding plagues
after the dust and heat that smeared the inhabitants
in the broad and dusty streets
in the holes that thirsts for water
on the isle that longed for a bath
tingle,tingle,tingle
how beautiful are thy strides!
.
the bored duck awaits the drops of instill
as of the yearning milky lane that led to 'sapele'
tingling the textiles of couchy illusions
the cloud presumes the stage play
agreeing to visit the mother earth with suprises
hefty strides bounced to and fro
as the tranquil befell the dusty lanes
.
how it clatters along the roof
like the trump of the greedy tortoise
how it gushes and struggles out
like the milk on the tips of a slumber
across the window glide
it pours and pour
creaming the unclad fronds
&subsiding the angry sun
with clasps of watery strokes
the terrestial swam in its liquid.
the rain,the dreamt rain.
# poetic
# izzybobo
2017

...
i know a funny hazy man
as quiet as a mouse
he does the mischief that is done
in everybody's house
though no one sees him do it
yet one and all agree
that every missing matchstick was hacked by him
...
with the funny squeaking voice
as of the prowling owl
nailing the dart in the heart of the house
creating the unwanted firework in the middle of the day
as each passer-by gets a snuff of his medicine
grinding jokes like the 'blunt grater'^
its all done by mr nobody
...
the finger marks upon the door
by none of us were made
we never leave the blind unclosed
to let the curtains fade
the buglars knew him
never disappointing to peep through the bars
those missing sandals were his foot-work
dribbling the little lad for a crumpy naira note
its all but one mr nobody
...
we all have someone in the images of mr nobody.he/she is always around the corner either near or far
..
#poetic
izzybobo writes

-there is love in the plaiting of hair
of the hair of the african girl;
there is charity in the style you see
on the head like the ivy in curl
and the striations emboldened in long twists
like the tap root of the purple hibiscus
and curly as coils from twisted graph
...
there is affection in the style of the local coiffure
on the head of the girl you cherish
like the cone on the head of the bridesmaid
tapering on to the apex of the cielings
&the stylish headtie on her braid
like the stately umbrella of the 'retired mugabe'
flowing beyond the sky of beauty
...
there is peace inscribed in the draftmanship skills of the local dresser
locking the weakest weave in the longest thread
as of the 'shembe' traditional coiffure
the style of the mother queen
cramping alongside the rosy ointment
'tis the beauty of african style;
which you must adoringly sing
# poetic
izzybobo writes.