Showing posts with label POEMS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label POEMS. Show all posts

YOU ARE NOT ALONE

by July 21, 2018
YOU ARE NOT ALONE
(On a special request)

You are not alone,
You are not without me.
You are not forgotten,
I am here for you.

I am here under the rains
Even under the sun,
I am here in the winter and summer
I am by you always.

I am standing by you,
Though you sometimes see me from afar
But I am still here for you,
Even when you refuse to give me your heart.

I will stand by you my love,
I will hold you tight so that you don’t fall.
I will look into your eyes with a smile of love
For you are my own and not ‘his’.


‘He’ broke your heart severally,
Even in front of me,
But I will never use that against you.
I will repair it and keep to myself.

I am here love,
To fly you over the storms,
And to shield you in turbulence,
I am here even when you are no more.

I am here my friend,
To heal your heart from the past,
And build a new you full of peace
I am here for you,
I am God
Ntui Oben Obi Agbor
Butare
20 July 2018

THE BLUE MOON

by July 21, 2018
THE BLUE MOON
(Poem on Special request)

Look into the blue on a sunny day,
Surrender your worries to it.
Don’t keep the sadness of the past within,
For the blue moon on a sunny day is here

Sing a song of peace within,
Touch your heart and love yourself,
The blue moon is here
To turn blue your black.

Look into the blue moon with hope,
Hope for your children and your community,
Receive the courage of a blue moon,
The blue moon is here for you.

Empty your mind.
Not with wine
Nor in a shrine
But under a blue moon inspired by God.

Look at the blue moon,
Close your eyes to the dark cloud surrounding it,
Receive the power to continue inspiring others
And be a blue moon to others

Some will appreciate,
Others will condemn
But always extend the peace of the blue moon
For you yourself are a blue moon
Ntui Oben Obi Agbor
20 July, 2018
Butare Rwanda


Build Your Relationship

by July 21, 2018

DROP IT DOWN

by May 28, 2018
DROP IT DOWM
(To a Nation on the eve of war)

Drop it down,
We are tired of its sound,
Every day in our town,
We don’t need it around.

Drop it down,
And set us free from the bushes,
And the fear we now live in,
Give us a break from darkness.

Drop it down,
For everywhere is bloody,
And many suburbs are empty,
The land is dirty.

Stop the killing no matter your side,
Give peace a chance and reduce this pool of blood.
Save our children from the nation’s shame
And let them see its fame.

Lay down your pride and reduce the content of the grave
The earth has eaten enough,
The land has lost a lot in this rough,
Things have been tough.

Stop the massacre,
Spare us this disgrace.
We are tired,
This is not what we want.

Our eyes are falling off,
Our ears are fed up,
Of the firing from break to dawn.
We are tired of the run.

Peace is what we need,
Dialogue is not more than us,
Stop the battle,
And retreat to the table of understanding.

Drop it down,
Your weapons ready to devour.
Use your brains and hearts for a while,
And you will see it’s worthless to fire….

Children have died and still dying,
Women and men painted by their own blood,
Villages have been transformed to virgin lands,
Relatives and friends caught in bushes.

Where do we go to?
When we are only focused on loading the gun?
When love has been sacrificed for hate?
When all our speeches are of war?

Drop it down,
And stop the burning.
Bring back our brothers and sisters
From their forests of refuge.

Save our lives,
Give us light,
We have had enough,
We don’t want more.
PEACE IS POSSIBLE.
OBI


by May 01, 2018
Lend me your hand,
Give me your heart,
Accompany me to the alter,
To stand before the Lord’s appointed,
Where we take our vows.

Give me your heart,
And don’t keep a part of it.
Walk majestically with me,
Till we seal this union.

The congregants await,
The bells ring out loud,
The bridal trails the red carpet,
To a standing ovation.

The birds jubilate,
My heart celebrates,
There is no regret,
I must appreciate.

Give me your heart,
And water my life.
Give me your smile,
And gladden my life.

Offer to me your peace,
I will be at ease,
And I will give you my all.
Paint my life with love,
And shower me with your comfort

I promise to hold your hand till the end,
And your heart without a fall.
Though the thorns and runs,
The world shall seek our story
Till we vanquish the scene of love
NTUI OBEN OBI AGBOR
To someone special

GIVE ME YOUR HEART

by April 27, 2018
GIVE ME YOUR HEART
Lend me your hand,
Give me your heart,
walk with me down aisle,
Accompany me to the alter,
To stand before the Lord’s appointed,
Where we take our vows.

Give me your heart,
And don’t keep a part of it.
Walk majestically with me,
Till we seal this union.

The congregants await,
The bells ring out loud,
The bridal trails the red carpet,
To a standing ovation.

The birds jubilate,
My heart celebrates,
There is no regret,
I must appreciate.

Give me your heart,
And water my life.
Give me your smile,
And gladden my life.

Offer to me your peace,
I will be at ease,
And I will give you my all.
Paint my life with love,
And shower me with your comfort

I promise to hold your hand till the end,
And your heart without a fall.
Though the thorns and runs,
The world shall seek our story
Till we vanquish the scene of love
NTUI OBEN OBI AGBOR
To someone special

A bottle for the Moment (To all the heartbroken and depressed)

by April 26, 2018
A BOTTLE FOR THE MOMENT
It was a depressed and oppressed night,
Everywhere and everything appeared unpleasant.
I was temporally shut down,
And my mind kept flying in an uncoordinated direction.

In that darkness,
I journeyed not too far for a bottle.
Hoping to kill my pain,
And bundle up myself to life again.

My bottle was sweating,
All my hope was tied to it.
It was my last resort.
That was all I needed on that rough night.
With no focus on right.

In anger, I grasped the bottle,
To have a sip of its content.
Then a second and a third.
Before the fifth and sixth,
The bottle seemed virgin.
It was consoling.

At that time my mind was blank to recent darkness
And the bed was my new zone of interest.
But before I could get to it, the cold floor had opened its arms to me
I succumbed to its hospitality leaving my bed lonely.

Night became thicker and then lighter,
Suddenly, light took control.
It was day break.
My eyes were surprised at what they saw.

But just before I could wake up from the mess of the night,
Yesterday’s bad reappeared at the scene.
And the dark of the former multiplied in the later.
Alcohol consumed, but sadness resumed.

Automatically I began to appreciate,
The need for quiet reflection in roughness,
The advantages of rightful thoughts in the noisy confusion of life
And the benefits of positive thinking in moments of turbulence.

Shame and disappointment coloured my face,
But regrets and pain soon vanished,
Because of the lessons from my ordeal.
 Then, I faced the future in hope and peace.

Think positive even in the mouth of a lion.
And don’t drink and consume substances thinking they will erase your past.
NTUI OBEN OBI AGBOR
Written for the heartbroken 

FILL MY BRAIN, LEAVE MY LAPS

by July 20, 2017


FILL MY BRAIN, LEAVE LAPS
 ( A cry for ethics in the Academia)

I’m tired of all this,
The tutor’s toast,
Rocking me here and there,
But my brain remains academically bankrupt.

My shelf is coloured with grades;
But non I truly merit.
Just a reward for those nights,
When I shamefully equated myself to you.

I have grades out of wedlock,
But my brain an empty slate.
I’m a nonentity with portfolio,
I burnt the midnight candle foolishly.

Sir, fill my brain, leave my laps,
Focus on what I paid to get,
Leave my sparkling self in peace.
You’ve rocked me enough.

How easy was it to score plenty points from you,
Just in a night.
But how frustrating it is to own what I can’t defend
But most especially, how degrading is it to be considered a
“Cheap market girl”

Hey prof,
Keep your grades and I’ll keep my dignity
I’ll put my brain and conscience at work
For a point earned is of far more value than honors found

Please sir,
Keep your minds off my laps; fill my brain with knowledge, not lust.
My Conscience has dealt with me enough,
I’ve been a worthless school girl
But enough is enough.
Hard work must pay.
NTUI OBEN OBI .A

TRIBUTES TO UNCLE ZACH

by June 05, 2017
TRIBUTES TO UNCLE ZACH
An Icon has bowed out of the ring, a hero has crossed the river, a legend has embarked on the journey of no return, a celebrity has blossom then withered.

As news of Uncle Zach’s demise echoed all over, tears dropped down my cheek. My eyes went red and my heart got sour.  Immediately I began to recall his days of professionalism and simple life. Uncle Zack gave shape to the world journalism in
Cameroon, he knew when the studio microphone sounded best, he had a mastery of the dimension of the studio and the atmosphere of his reports. He was never a play journalist. He was a mentor to so many emerging and emerged journalists and sport reporters to be specific. He was a journalist to the core. I remember in 2003 when I first met Uncle Zach. He had just covered a first division Match at the Molyko Omnisport Stadium. I was returning home from school with four of my peers while he settled on a bottle of liquor in bar opposite the Stadium. He called us to advise us on the relevance of education and how the future belongs to us. His close 10 minutes lecture ended with gift of 100 FRS each to my friends and I. Since then, I have worked hard to hold firm that future and meet up with Uncle Zack’s words of wisdom. In 2009 I met him again at CRTV while on a holyday programme and he remained inspiring. Each morning since 2003 I tuned in to FM 94.5 to listen to him, I went to the stadium on each Mount Cameroon Race of hope just to see him and  hear his legendary voice. He alone best knew how pregnant the moon and the sun were on a mountain raise day; he could perfectly describe the scenario and gave the public a swift summary of past races and winners. Uncle knew dates like his legend Historian Professor Victor Ngoh. He was a man who once told a sports Minister how late he was for an event in a very stylish way. Zachary Nkwo was a living encyclopedia, a sport archive and an unforgettable genius. He spoke slowly but powerfully, he never needed scripts, he just needed a microphone and wisdom flowed. He was difficult to see on occasions because of his size but he was always heard because his voice spoke volumes and penetrated right deep into the ears of listeners and the public. Uncle Zach has left a big vacuum in the world of sport. A sport archive has collapsed. Testimonies of his impact fly everywhere today. So sad he had to bow down to the wind of death that blew so hard. I am saddened by news of his everlasting journey to the world beyond. Rest in Peace Uncle Zach.

NTUI OBEN OBI

#2500

by May 31, 2017
#2500

Because of 2.5.0.0,
She went through shame and pains,
Humiliation and disgrace,
Assaults and harassment with no boundary.

Because of 2500,
Her nudity goes on Camera,
Her private is publicized,
And her future goes dark.

Because of two thousand five hundred and more,
She and her peers swallow the bitterness of the society,
Its nakedness and ugliness,
But her offenders hardly on spy glasses.

Because of two, five, zero, zero cash,
An “Epie” and crew turn to a spear,
And tear her generation,
With no second thought of the stigmatization.

Because someone somewhere still got a conscience and soul,
Let them rise up and change the status-quo,
End violence against women
And reshape this sexually polluted society.

No time for the blame game.
Educate our “she” on responsibility and dignity,
Teach our “he” to respect her integrity,
And never use her vulnerability to his advantage.
Save our girls, save our sisters and children


                 NTUI OBEN O.A
Ntui-Oben Obi-Agbor.Republic of Cameroon, SWR, Buea. 670203670/691731509. obenntui2011@gmail.com. Theme images by Storman. Powered by Blogger.