₦airaland Forum

Welcome, Guest: RegisterLoginWith GoogleTrendingRecentNew

Stats: 3,330,295 members, 8,444,827 topics. Date: Tuesday, 14 July 2026 at 06:42 AM

Toggle theme

Lyricalpontiff's Posts

Nairaland ForumLyricalpontiff's ProfileLyricalpontiff's Posts

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 15 pages)

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day20 "Love Anatomy" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 6:36pm On Jun 20, 2015
My love for you is like a brand new socks
Never felt the feet(defeat)
My flesh,spirit and soul(sole)
Know that you are too fly
High above heels(hills) like ankle
Forget beef just take off the calf from my leg
I'm on my knees,writing love poems in hips
Every Tom,DICK and Harry
knows what my pen is(penis)
I've got rectum in my ink so I write shit
A love letter would be a cardboard belt
Waste(waist) of paper
Knowing I don't have the liver
Finds me hard to stomach
At least I have a heart left
These lyrics are like blood,
They flow with the beat
But I want to lock you in my rib cage
Let me get this shit off my chest
Last time you fell my hand,my wrist broke
You are so hot giving me cold shoulder
Now I'm sticking out my neck
Read my lips,my rhymes will never dry
Like my tongue
Yes! Yes!! I've got two chicks(cheeks)
Check my jaw
God knows(nose) you are so deaf(def)
Forget the ears
I want to be in your eyes like tears
Together we shall make headlines like wrinkles
Other need more than four(fore) heads
To flow the way I flow
I'm leaving here(hair) like afro

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day19 "Garri" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 7:10pm On Jun 19, 2015
Home away from home
I try to be a roman in Rome
Deep within my stomach, it kills
Consuming unfamiliar meals
To keep body system in function
I wish my Naija was the next junction
But it's a light year away from me
And I'm in a place I always dream to be
Here hospitality is friendly yet strange
Cuisines at variance with home, change

I have a lot for my stomach to carry
But none can equal my beloved garri
You don't know what you have until it's gone
With't garri how can I survive under the sun?
It sustained me from infancy to adulthood
Now my intestines riot because of oyibo food
I'm an Ikwerre boy,I don't have time to form
Give me garri whether solid or liquid form
Take your fries ,salad,noodles,or chicken
I envy d 160million hosting garri in kitchens

Then the choir in my embattled stomach sang
Give us egusi,okro,oha,obono or afang
Garri conveys them down the bumpy road
Now the bowels are now set to explode
Then I woke up,it was just a dream
A very bad one,but I didn't scream
I blame it on the hunger before the siesta
In my fridge I have shawamma & tasty fiesta
Whenever hunger infects me with long throat
GARRI is always my antidote...

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day18 "Letter To Future Me" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 11:16am On Jun 18, 2015
Dear future me,
I am he you used to be
More intro will be useless, you already know me
The wheels of days here turn slowly
I’m writing this letter tethered to a quest
I’m still on treetops, in solitude in my warm nest
Over here, true love is like ice water in hell
It doesn’t make sense like a wooden bell
I wish you could tell me about yourself
Do you work in NNPC, shell, Agip or Elf?
Even in my dreams, I’ve known your scent
I’m glad that you represent me 100%
How is the soil that mothers your seed?
She is one of my counts on my prayer bead
Please teach me how to iron out my creases and flaws
Teach me how to escape life’s fangs and claws
I’m a gymnast in the dilemmas of everyday
Active in the cloud of things, and today
I stand on the balcony of time with shades
To see you, yesterdays seed now sprouting blades
I need a map to navigate through the labyrinth
Of my heart, mind and soul…

Yours truly

Present me.

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day17 "Godly Pauper" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 5:35pm On Jun 17, 2015
The flute of the wind ignites the dance of the brown leaves
They descend in mockery and perch on a head that grieves
“No food for a lazy man” so says the mangoes
They cling on their tree and won’t fall until the man goes
But those that think he’s lazy should first check the church
He’s a sanctuary keeper, he sweeps, mops, cleans and such
Yet poverty has swept him with a very long broom
Stomach worms speak in tongues as he kabashes in his room
“Take the whole world and give me Jesus, I’m a believer”
“Sinners repent or perish” blah blah blah, rapture fever
His life is slow so he’s forced to fast
“This world is not my own, vanity upon vanity won’t last”
In the neighborhood, he can never win a soul
How Na? Even the asphalt frown at the step of his shoe sole
Mr. Self righteous, everyday one shirt, one trouser & one shoe
Even the poor sinners around him are like “shoo”
Lazarus was sure of the crumbs from the rich man’s table
He will insist, “God’s time is the best, my God is able”
That won’t be oily to the throat of the wind, sorry
Christ principle is prosperity, so don’t worry
I will call you a no good Godly pauper
Even in heaven, you won’t be a champagne popper
It’s not enough to be righteous and take Holy Communion
Salvation is incomplete without financial dominion
Remember wealth and riches accompany the righteous
When God looked for a friend, he never found Lazarus
The wings of the bible are strong but u don’t fly
Quit crawling and remove the log in your eye
So if you only give a hoot about rapture and the marriage supper
I think it’s proper to call you a Godly righteous pauper
Stop blaming the innocent village witch
The nails of the scripture can scratch that itch
My brother in Christ, scripturally let’s strike a balance
And put a needle in the balloon of ignorance
Heaven is for both the poor and rich
But here on earth, if you are not rich you no reach
1 Share

LiteratureRe: 30 Days Of Poetry, Day16 "Haunted" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 6:39am On Jun 17, 2015
moshoodn:
Nice one bro....

Beneath the AB rhymes, I felt a connection nice one.

What next theme are you writing on? Would like to drop a missive too..

Ciao.
I dunno what next but I promise it will be dope
LiteratureRe: 30 Days Of Poetry, Day15 "Mutiny" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 6:38pm On Jun 16, 2015
israelBigFame:
Are you a BG? How come u d cap SVC OT
I am a poet, I quoted a character in my poem
Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day16 "Haunted" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 6:13pm On Jun 16, 2015
I could not sleep last night
Even other night to sleep na fight
My conscience lifts a weight
I’m in need of solutions, my heart deflates
I have a big problem
Each time I close my eyes I see them
Yes I see them all
From my bed to the floor to the wall
I wish it was a dream
But it isn’t, so I melt like heated ice cream
They always know where to find me
Their presence won’t let me be
And they will never leave
So every day I grieve

I’m being haunted by the passing of time
So I sought help by the elements in our clime
But the pepper in the night made me cough
I choked, the fumes of the atmosphere was tough
In panic I crawled behind some trees
Tears from the trees wet a hive of bees
“Where do I run to?” thoughts ran through my mind
I was groping as the fog made me blind
Claws of the wind clutched me
Tear drops of the clouds touched me
The fangs of the night stung me
I was speechless as reality hung me
I watched the moon stare with a devilish grim
The drowsy star in anger went dim

I can’t hold down my conscience till infinity
If I yield not, the horrors will be eternity
For I have made starving beats salivate in anger
They need lyrical dishes to quench their hunger
My malnourished muse mood swings, so palely
Blank pages frown at me daily
Similes and metaphors shorn of flesh
Figurative formations far from fresh
My rhyme pad was a garden, now a thorn bush
I head for the labour room, ready to push
The more I write, I feel the labour pain
My train of thoughts cruises in my brain
The cry of the baby breaks the fetters on my conscience
As I break free from that horror experience
1 Like

LiteratureRe: 30 Days Of Poetry, Day15 "Mutiny" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 6:51pm On Jun 15, 2015
"German" lol
Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day15 "Mutiny" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 1:39pm On Jun 15, 2015
In the days when UST was university of shoot and takeoff
Some went to school to read maybe become a prof
But not Billy, his role model was General Sani Abacha
Somewhere in Diobu, living in a bacha
His admission cut the noose around the lean neck
Of his wild dreams of becoming an Exec
Signs told him all other cults were weak
So he embraced Vikings in his first week
In his first semester, he rose up in the light
The wind spread his fame, Billy the star of the night
He was on the passageway between the walls of envy
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion, the life of a V
Dreams of becoming number one like the index finger
Sowed his dreams in the loamy soil of time that linger

In his 3rd year, he had few academic bugs
He couldn’t sleep like bull frogs
Not because his academics slant at the edge
But because he was yet to fulfill his pledge
He nursed a grudge against his serving executioner
Without Vikings and his crush, he was an empty container
He just heard that his crush was cornered and lost her flower
By his exec and co, taking turns on her for hours
Billy fumed at a pub with some acolytes downing red label
He stood with a scream “aro mates…all Norsemen are rebels”
Billy knows what General Abacha knew
All he need was a bottle of squadron and his crew
His crack force were heavily armed to the teeth
They ran mad with anger until they could hardly breathe

Billy wrapped his vengeance round the waist of his dreams
The support he got was bursting at the seams
He ran an intel to trace his exec and co
They were somewhere around back gate but no
The full ship anchored with SS on sentry
He knows even angels will be denied entry
Billy realized he wasn’t going against some empty men
So he anchored the ship, stuck to his operation MTN
As time walked by, aro exec was stung out
On booze, Billy’s plans began to sprout
In highness the ship reduced and the sentry disembarked
Billy’s crack force came in and attacked
Billy grabbed his pistol and aimed at his exec
Give me your thumb or I end your life in a sec

……........watch out for part 2………

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day14 "Last Sunday" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 5:57pm On Jun 14, 2015
Last Sunday, I was minding my business
Reading my bible, God is my witness
My church can be called a sea of crowd
The she walked pass the aisle like a cloud
Slow and gentle, my attention was riven
She moved like a train that was driven
Well-constructed, highfalutin hips
I lustfully drank my stare in sips
Indeed Angels came in likeness of girls
She was all I prayed for, my heart rang bells
I was holding God in my right palm
Thoughts of her on the left, I couldn’t keep calm
After service, I met her one on one
Line fell pleasantly, all said and done

The undying hunger of knowing more of her
Drove me out that evening like a star
In search of his one and only moon
Mind ran agog, “I’ll be there very soon”
So I said before ending the long call
Seat belt on, rolling to her crib like a ball
Flying through the locked PH traffic
“Is this really love at first sight” though a skeptic
Wow, I’m growing roses on concrete gardens
Parked by the gate, eyes perching, heart gladdens
Her phone’s off but text reads “come to room 204”
The girl coming out looks like a complete LovePeddler
Wait “room 204” what will she be doing in a hotel
But the environment spells a coded brothel
Already down at the confluence of confused thoughts
Through the corridor sounds of noisy sex drives me nuts
………………………..watch out for part 2…………………………..

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day13 "You Love Is Oxymoronic" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 3:58pm On Jun 13, 2015
Bimbo, you are my chosen one
Me without you is a frozen sun
You are my right medicine, in fact overdose
And you are over those other girls, everyone knows
Your love is sweet vinegar, I’m taking some sips
Truly your name always stands on my lying lips
I love the way your silence sounds
My lust fond mind now found
Your kind is scarce like ice in hell
It’s an open secret, it isn’t hard to tell
Last time, my words were clearly misunderstood
My bad, well it’s all good
But when you left, deep down I was shallow
To be straight forward, I was pierced with a bent arrow
I was a living dead because of your conspicuous absence
Seriously it’s not funny, e no make sense
I can’t give the exact estimate
Of the rise and fall of my heart rate
Our love was so fly, don’t make it crash land
Please don’t hands up and don’t fall my hand
Now you no longer feel free, I’ve got you locked in my heart
Bimbo, you finish work right from the very start
But your love for me is a civil war
You are my only choice I live to die for


Be the first to tell me the correct number of oxymora (plural of oxymoron) in this poem will be given #1500 worth of airtime.

LiteratureRe: 30 Days Of Poetry, Day12 "Runaway Love" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 8:21pm On Jun 12, 2015
immortalcrown:
You can do well in hiphop music, not in literature.
I do hip hop, if I can't do well in poetry... u must be a joker.
LiteratureRe: 30 Days Of Poetry, Day12 "Runaway Love" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 8:13pm On Jun 12, 2015
Linqsz:
At last...have waited enough. but

This ain't literature
Pls tell me what literature is?
Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day12 "Runaway Love" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 4:13pm On Jun 12, 2015
Nkechi is just 19 years old
She’s trying to figure out why the world is so cold
Why her step mum always treats her like a maid
Why her dad hardly comes to her aid
Boiling tears often flow like cascade
From a girl as fine as a mermaid
Natural beauty far from man made
Her brains, sharp like a blade
But her academics suffered blockade
Her lecturers often withhold her grade
This they played just to get her laid
“I won’t sleep with you” so she said
To her HOD who looks like a masquerade
When others bribed, she never got her kobo paid
She wasn’t afraid
Rather went to her knees and prayed
In fact to call a spade a spade
She displayed character worth an accolade
Oppressors parade in motorcade of escalade
To persuade her to use her body for trade
She never betrayed, faith didn’t fade
They were like mosquito and she was “raid”
One day she was waylaid
Coming back from crusade
Badly raped, blood all over her brocade
Period missed, got her crying under a shade
Pregnancy here to invade
HIV here to aid, degrade
Made her feel like the fool of the decade
So she’s stocked up in a world of her own
She’s forced to think hell is a place called home
So she gathered all her loads and packed
She’s about to run away and never come back

LiteratureRe: 30 Days Of Poetry, Day11 "Short" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 9:10am On Jun 11, 2015
Is ur name really day 11?
Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day11 "Short" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 7:47am On Jun 11, 2015
Short, shot, shut…
Shorty, for you I’m writing this short piece
Long trouble, short peace
In short, I need a final full stop
No more poems, I’ll just shut up
My heart is as heavy as short put
I know you are guilty, but I will give you a short sentence
“I’m sorry” (short)
You are the right thing (writing) I don’t understand, short hand
If love is blind, you are short sighted
Giving me love in short supply
There is a global love short fall
But even with Longman, I fall short of words
Short memory…

My last love was short lived
Like flame in the wind, just a short time
Friends cum and go like Azikwe short time
I’ve been short changed by love
Change didn’t last, short change
I thought the cupid shot Kola
5 seconds on phone, she’s a short caller
It’s better to love a short girl than not a tall
Forget the bum short, her short temper
Got her fired without a gunshot

Life is too short
So I need more than 2 shots
To get high, ‘cause I’m too short
To touch the sky, in short
Please, abeg, don’t cut short this love
I need a short cut to your heart
I have my short comings
I don’t want to come short of your love
You are sweet but hard like short bread
Long trouble, short peace
This poem is SHORT, peace

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day10 "No Love Poem" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 10:06am On Jun 10, 2015
Someone should teach me how to write a love poem
I’d love to learn but there is a problem
I’m peeping through a broken window
I watch as a young wife turns widow
Gunshots sound familiar like a ring tone
Armed youths carry guns about like phones
Close to the checkpoint are swollen corpses
And killers conduct the autopsies

And you tell me to write a love poem
Maybe you are too blind to see the problem
Bad news now rent my nightmares
I woke up as a cry of a bereaved twitch my ear
Nothing is a taboo anymore
The signs in the fetid air read war
Bloody tales come as daily menu
There is a congress of vultures and I know the venue

A love poem will burn my lips
If you don’t know, let me give you some tips
The unemployed graduates roam about without a smile
Kidnappers dance in return from exile
Militants get chieftaincy titles, they deserve…
National honours for criminals’ exclusive reserve
I see evil men adorned with accolades
As my once blossoming dream fades

Someday I will write a love song
Right now the timing will be wrong
Right now suicide bombers never rest
Right now the garbage heap is Everest
Right now we are beggars in our own field
Right now we see the flying arrows but we have no shield
Right now I see faces with creases of sadness
Right now I call it unphatomed madness

A love poem should be removed as a bad tooth
In the jaws of my imagination
I mourn with heavy letters in my mind
Tears flow down the bony cheek of the night
Our mace is safe in the talons of vultures
Owls are now sentinel at our brick house
I see chunks off bullets on my broken window
How many cups of tears can wash our faces?
1 Like

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day9 "Everyday" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 8:25am On Jun 09, 2015
We met at the supermarket, Everyday
After which we’ve have been hanging out like everyday
Out we hang everyday
But I’ve a crib, AC, flat screen, fridge, every dey
Every day I beg her to give me one day
But every day for her eye I dey like Dede Oneday
In the every days, one day
I refused taking her shopping at Everyday
I was like “I buy you gifts, flex you everyday”
I’m the owner of a house, why not come at least one day
Even if no vex, that one dey
But like a thief you’ve got everyday
She was like, “chia you haff suffered Yewande”
“So because of all these rubbish you buy when we hit everyday”
You think I’m an ordinary girl you hit everyday
See everyday
Men offer to take me to Shoprite, Dubai not that yeye Everyday
That very day, that very day (smh)
Chia, I work from Monday to Sunday
Under rain and when sun dey
I try in every way
Just to impress Yewande
Looking like a model on a run way
She wants to chop my money and run away
Our relationship is the way Tom and Jerry dey
Already I have Amaka even Beverly dey
Also Nkechi sef come dey
On them I haven’t spent 1 naira one day
But the more I avoid Yewande
I still think of her every day and everyday

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day8 "I Belong To Everybody, I Belong To Nobody" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 8:08am On Jun 08, 2015
Nkechi dropped out, dad is broke
Life drying up, mum down with stroke
Then she met Tony, he wiped her slate clean
Now she’s flourishing with the gait of a queen
Done with school, gone for service
Relationship breaking like phones with poor network service
When things were down, Tony was her healing balm
Presently, he’s shocked and can’t keep calm
Busted! He caught a louse taking off her blouse
Nkechi, Tony furnished like his spouse
She shrugged her shoulders and said
I belong to everybody, I belong to nobody

Chuky’s life was filled with tears and gore
If not for Lisa, it’d have been more
“Naija hard die, I need Canadian visa”
Bundled his prayers and took them to Lisa
It is my dream to marry you and end all these distress
Canada beckons do my Masters plus business
Just sell your dad’s property, I won’t be long
I will payback double, in you I belong
She did so for Chuky, got disowned
Few years down the line, Chuky hardly phoned
One day via skype Lisa asked “what’s happening?”
He replied, I belong to everybody, I belong to nobody

Perennial failure is what they called him
His chance of winning was so dim
“Poor man” they called him, battered his image
That old man no de tire? Make him go rest for him village
……………………………………… ……….to be continued
1 Like

PoliticsWho Else Is Watching The Documentary Of Amaechi On AIT Showing Now? by lyricalpontiff(op): 5:55pm On Jun 07, 2015
Pls tune in to AIT now and see what they are showing about the great CRA, the David that slayed Jonathan the goliath.
Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day7 "Go And Sin No More" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 4:49pm On Jun 07, 2015
A pin was dropped
Mortals heard the sound, rushed in droves
At the meeting with the immortal, they popped
With tempers as hot as stoves

Yes she was caught in the very act
Red handed, in fact pants down
With a man she made no marital pact
Against the laws guiding the land

She stood before the group
As stones and stoners abound
Ears tuned, the immortal with a stoop
And he began to write on the ground

The Law of Moses mortals quoted
That she ought to be stoned to death
It was a trap and the immortal noted
And his fingers danced on the earth

His silence placed their trap in a bin
He stooped to conquer the questions thrown
Finally he said, HE WHO IS WITHOUT SIN
CAST THE FIRST STONE

To the tongue in their minds, his words were lime
So sour to those fuming to pelt
They departed one at a time
And to stony hearts, those words were felt

And the immortal was still writing on the sand
He straightened up and the whole place was cleared
Not condemned, she alone on the stand
GO AND SIN NO MORE he declared.
1 Like

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day6 "7 Days" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 12:00pm On Jun 06, 2015
7 days make one week
But 7 days without you makes one weak
I’m strong (Armstrong) like Neil
Still yet I feel
Very very down like a low grade miner
Please come back to me, I will be finer
Now I lack concentration like a bad juice company
I’m limited, ‘cause you are my company
Like a weak penis, I just lie dead
Naked and shivering like a featherless bird
Remember when our love was blossoming like flowers
Your exit made it a rubble of fallen towers
7 days are like 7 years, I’ve been lost
In the fortress of debris and dust
The door is open, my heart is always home
For me your love is a dead corn in a loam
I can’t even write or sing a love song
The taste of you hangs on my minds tongue
I’ll fight to take our love from the talons of the vulture
Agwaracha must return, it’s just culture
I hope this doesn’t fan your ears
Come back lest I drown in my tears
1 Like

Literature30 Days Of Poetry, Day5 "Random Thoughts" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 9:28am On Jun 05, 2015
RANDOM THOUGHTS

These broken lips said good morning at noon
That waiter swam in pepper soup for serving fork instead of spoon

For correcting the drunken officers, he got broken in the gutter
The other blind girl saw a man rapping his daughter

Those protesting victims got manmade earthquake
And these amputated arms pilfered bean cake

This acid bathed face fell upon a bad tempered lover
This cold hell offers free blankets, we run for cover

In this dance, we change steps as the beat becomes faster
These are the days monsters turn against their masters

That mother threw the bath water into a pit
With the poor baby kicking in it

And the birds pretend not to hear
Abomination is the cotton bud in my ear

We break 10 skulls just for a wounded finger
I see the end cuming though orgasm still linger

Those militants that infected us with this plague
Were never invited to the Hague

Rather they went lounging in the rock villa, high on booze
Meanwhile the neighborhood terror felt the terror of the noose

Next year, I will slay a million lives
Because I’m sure the sky god will offer me one of his wives

Literature30 DAYS OF POETRY,DAY4 "I Pay My Tithe" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 10:16am On Jun 04, 2015
I PAY MY TITHE (remix)

If you are looking for a man tired of scaling life’s hurdles
Ask me, for I have folded my dreams in bundles
Alcohol now warms my days
In the winter of my ugly ways
Hope is like light from nepa
Check my pocket; you will see pieces of paper
Not control numbers, just my suicide note
Life is poisonous, and the pub is my antidote

I pay my tithe
Half in the church
Half in the beer parlour

I solemnly recite the church hymn
But one hardly finds God when you need him
Yet it is hard to count him out
So I thicken my spirit with more big stout
Against the tears that flow from my eyes like fountain
Some decisions are carrying a mountain
The only thing missing in my suicide note is period
How can I dot the lines when she just missed her period?
I couldn’t put a line between love and lust
I’m just another mortal groping in the fog of dust

That’s why I pay my tithe
Half in the church
Half in the beer parlour

If the devil permits, I will be a monk
In my other pocket is rizla and skunk
I don’t take it just for my eyes to be red
Sometimes God’s chest is too hard for my head
My life is tight and I’m suffering
I have robbed God of my tithe and offerings
My ways are crooked, heart torn apart
How can stout straighten the folds in my heart?
My nerves break under the burden of filth
My head is on the chopping board of guilt
I am the one in need of grace
Tick tock, tick tock, time is in a race

Today I paid my tithe
Half in the church
I am paying the other half somewhere

I down more bottles of big stout
And hope that will straighten things out
Tick tock, tick tock, I take all the blames
As my eyes gush out liquid flames
Around me are all shades of drunks
Whores, pimps, felons, as I tap my skunk
But the leaves turn mirror to see the ugliness I have become
No wonder God left me in the face of the storm
In shock, I drop my skunk as I weep
For I feel God has dumped me on a rubbish heap
He must be tired from the endless chiseling of my ways
Now I must always hold him with both hands. Always

Next Sunday, I will pay my tithe
All in the church, and no more beer parlour.

Literature30 Days Of Poetry,day3 "What Can I Offer Her?" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 7:12am On Jun 03, 2015
What can I offer her?

One cold evening on a Saturday in life
I met a girl I have dreamt of to make my wife
The blanket of the sky warmed the moon
I knew I’ll meet her someday but not so soon
I have always pictured a diva with immense beauty
Then charming her to be mine will be my duty
She shines so bright, the sun should hide its face
Her swagger and aura took hostage of the place
But she neither charmed nor intrigued when we came eye to eye
I said “hi” and she reluctantly replied “hi”
All of a sudden, muscle pull embraced my lips
As I drank disappointment in sips
I became empty like a two paged book
And gave her the same uninteresting look
Tears warmed my eyes but I was still acting bold
Thoughts got me sweating under the night cold
She is indeed all I have wished for and more
She is a goddess, the most sophisticated I ever saw
But the question is, WHAT CAN I OFFER HER?
The smarter me, the tougher her
Now I lie down like a soured soup on the table
It’s a wonder how thoughts of a woman can be able
To unnerve a man, turn pillow to stones
Skinpores to rivers, disjoint my bones
But finally, WHAT CAN I OFFER HER?
2 Shares

LiteratureRe: 30 DAYS OF POETRY,DAY2 "If You Hear Say I Dey Prison" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 4:57pm On Jun 02, 2015
Please keep following, tomorrow's poem will be nice.
Literature30 DAYS OF POETRY,DAY2 "If You Hear Say I Dey Prison" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 11:42am On Jun 02, 2015
If you hear say I dey prison
No reason say I thief
No think say I kill
Na small question wey I ask

Oya make I ask
Why e be say after elections politicians dey comot mask
Abeg wetin graduates commit
Wey companies dey treat us like vomit
Why new roads node last like nepa
Why bail na free for only paper

If you hear say I dey sanko
No think say I steal
No think say I kill
Na only question wey I ask

Why we go go school, read book, graduate with nothing to carry hold hand
I still no understand why people wey shoot gun, burst pipe, kidnap oyibo, go enjoy government settlement
Why our soldiers dey score A for foreign peace mission but for book haram na carry over

If you hear say I dey prison
No reason say I thief
No think say I kill
Na small question wey I ask

Why our leaders’ node take oath of office for amadioha shrine make dem serious
Why fire service motor dey suffer from dehydration
Why the price of petrol dey sky rocket
Why black market people dey empty our pocket
Why everyday police dey catch armed robbers for newspaper
While armed robbers still dey thief with pen and paper
If you hear say I dey prison
No reason say I thief
No think say I kill
Na small question wey I ask

Why lecturers still dey measure dia grades by shots of sperm or marks based on sorting
Abeg how much be security vote
Wetin happen to excess crude account
Why police men dey always high for checkpoint
Why pastors like to preach about tithe from Malachi 3 and not Deuteronomy 14
Dem say person wey ask question node miss road.

Hook from Humphrey Ogu
4 Likes 1 Share

Literature30 Days Of Poetry,day1 "A Madman Was Here" Pics Inside by lyricalpontiff(op): 10:20am On Jun 01, 2015
If you ever wonder why bottles, cartons, komkom were scattered everywhere
A madman reigned here
If you ever wonder why cloths, banners and soup pots were left on the chair
A madman ruled here
Don’t bother about the writings on the wall
And how condoms littered the corners and all
A madman was king here
The madman’s palace was brick house
If you notice say furniture wear skirt and blouse
No fear, na madman been dey stay here

Yes a madman was the king we had
Indeed the madman was very mad
He wasn’t just mad for a season
The madman was mad for a reason
Can a sane man dare the skies?
Only a mad man can remove the log from the lion’s eyes

A madman isn’t celebrated in his hometown
He isn’t just a prophet, he gives crowns
This bald madman won away and lost here (hair)
But his nudity is well known in the market square
He swam through the seas of endless problems
On the shore, he left us with his emblems and totems

When it was time to clean up the pieces of madness
We threw away the broom because of our sadness
A retired madman has offered to help us
Yes “retired” what’s the fuss?
I see him with keys to the padlocks
But I brace myself for a rude shock

The retired madman now rules here
Whose nudity is too is known in the market square
I brace myself before he introduces his rock band
Soon the emblems will return totems in thousands
The retired madman will be nude again in the market square
And we will wish the previous madman was still ruling here
2 Likes 1 Share

EducationRe: See Lady Who Bared Her Boobs At UNIPORT Cultural Day by lyricalpontiff(m): 10:30pm On May 20, 2015
That is RSUST not uniport.
Christianity EtcRe: How Is The Date Of Easter Determined And Why Is It So Early This Year? by lyricalpontiff(op): 11:02am On Apr 03, 2015
Front page pls
Christianity EtcHow Is The Date Of Easter Determined And Why Is It So Early This Year? by lyricalpontiff(op): 10:37am On Apr 03, 2015
Because the ancient Egyptians and Hebrews used different calendars. The Egyptians had one based on the movement of the sun, which was passed on through the Romans and Christian culture to become the modern world's standard. The Jews had one based on the phases of the moon – as Islam does, which is why the month of Ramadan moves round the calendar and takes places at different times of the year each year, with Muslims waiting for sightings of the moon before they know what day it will begin.

Easter is one of the festivals which tries to harmonise the solar and lunar calendars. As a general rule, Easter falls on the first Sunday, following the first full moon after 21 March. But not always.

Why do we still have to use both solar and lunar calendars?

Easter is the time when Christians celebrate the Resurrection of Christ. According to the gospels he was killed three days before the Resurrection, around the time of the Jewish Passover. So Christians wanted to have their feast day around the same time as the Jewish festival which was fixed by the first full moon following the vernal equinox – the spring day when night and day are exactly the same length.

The problem comes because a solar year (the length of time it takes the earth to move round the sun) is 365 days, 5 hours, 49 minutes, and 12 seconds whereas a lunar year is 354.37 days. Calculating one against another is seriously complicated.

There have been various attempts to reconcile this, including the famous saltus lunae (the moon's jump) whereby one of the 30-day months in the lunar cycle gets arbitrarily shortened to 29 days. But the solar and lunar years diverge by 11 days every year. Scores of formulae have been devised to try to reconcile the two as a method of marking time.

How many ways are there of calculating Easter?

Dozens. In the 2nd century a Roman called Hippolytus devised an eight-year cycle. A century on, 84-year tables were introduced, which were still in use in parts of the British Isles as late as 931. There was a ruling by the First Council of Nicaea in 325 that Easter should be celebrated on the Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox but this was ignored for centuries, with even the church in Rome using its own methods until the 6th century. More recently there have been Mallen's Method, Marcos Montes Method, Carter's Method, Oudin's Method... and on it goes.

There is another complicating factor. It had been decided that the vernal equinox would occur on 20 March (as it did at Nicaea) but that too varies. It was on 21 March in 2007. So the old church fathers got round this by redefining what a full moon is.

Why are there so many different definitions of a full moon?

An astronomical full moon, like an astronomical equinox, is not a day but a moment in time – which can be observed happening on different days depending on which side of the international date line you stand. And waiting for an event to happen made it impossible to plan ahead.

So they decided that the Paschal Full Moon (PFM) would not be an astronomical moon but an ecclesiastical full moon. These could be set down ahead of time, which is what happened from 325 AD. Astronomers approximated astronomical full moon dates for the church, calling them Ecclesiastical Full Moon (EFM) dates. Thus Easter was defined as the Sunday after the first EFM after 20 March. And that date was the appointed vernal equinox, regardless of whether it was or not. So we have a notional full moon following a notional equinox.

Is this why Easter is on a different day in Eastern Europe?

No. That's because the Orthodox church sticks to the calendar promulgated by Julius Caesar but which the West abandoned in the 16th century. But it is all linked to trying to harmonise solar and lunar calendars.

By 1582 the Julian calendar (which made the year too long by several minutes) was out of sequence with the equinoxes by 10 days and with Caesar's original dates by 14 days. So Pope Gregory XIII decreed a new calendar which dropped leap years when they happened at the end of a century where the number was not divisible by 400 – thus 2000 was a leap year but 2100 won't be. He also decreed that the world would jump from 5 October to 14 October.

The English, afraid that this was some kind of popish plot, refused to come on board until 1753, by which time English calendars were 11 days out. When the change was finally imposed here innumerate protesters, assuming that real days were being stolen from them, rioted demanding "Give us back our 11 days!"

The Orthodox Easter is still a Julian one and usually follows ours by a week or so and can even stretch into May.

So is this the earliest Easter can get?

No. It can be on 22 March, as it was in 1761 and 1818, but that won't happen until 2285. Its latest possible date is 25 April but we haven't had that since 1943 and won't again until 2038. The commonest date is 19 April though the full cycle of Easter dates only repeats after 5,700,000 years.

Can't the date be fixed by modern astronomy?

Astronomers have tried to reconcile the lunar and solar cycles since the time of the ancient Greek stargazer Meton of Athens who came up with the 19-year Metonic cycle. And the ancient Egyptians knew that the heliacal rising of Sirius was a more accurate predictor of the flooding of the Nile than solar dates were.

But more accurate astronomy only makes things more complicated. We now know that a solar year is 365.2422 days and a vernal equinox year is 365.2424 days and a sidereal year is 365.25636042 days – none of which fit exactly with the 365.2425 days of the Gregorian calendar.

Then there is the precession of the equinoxes by which the earth wobbles like a spinning top. Its poles shift in relation to certain stars in a 25,800-year complete one-wobble cycle. And the tidal drag between the Earth and the Moon and Sun, which is affected by melting glaciers and sea-level rise, increases the length of the day and of the month.

Can't we just pluck a fixed date out of the air and agree on it?

Both governments and churches have tried to do that. Secularists have suggested that Easter should fall on the second Sunday of April each year. The World Council of Churches in 1997 suggested replacing the current equation-based system with direct astronomical observation.

Even where there is notional agreement, implementation is another matter. In Britain, an Easter Act was passed in 1928 fixing the holiday as "the first Sunday after the second Saturday in April". The law remains on the statute book but it has never been enforced. There are too many contradictory influences brought to bear. It seems that Easter is set to remain the original moveable feast.

PhonesRe: Blackberry Leap Goes Official With a 5-inch HD Display by lyricalpontiff(m): 3:20pm On Mar 03, 2015
It's far lower than passport, I doubt if it's even better than z30.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 15 pages)