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Long poem by Darryl Ashton | Details |

THE RETURN OF PETER PAN 2014

THE RETURN OF PETER PAN…2014  

And Introducing 
The arch enemy:
((Political Correctness and Health and Safety))

Ladies and Gentlemen: boys and girls. Peter Pan is set to strike again.

 
A sequel to J.M. Barrie’s classic tale will be published in the very near future, in which Tinkerbell will be replaced by a male fairy named Firefly, the Darling little children are all grown up, Neverland is blighted by pollution and Nana the dog, is sadly dead. 

Darryl Ashton has obtained this exclusive interview with Peter Pan to find out what went wrong. Peter says: “What has the world come to when someone like me is no longer allowed in children’s bedrooms? OK, so at first inspection things don’t sound too great.
I am someone who climbs secretly through children’s  bedroom windows. I have a friend called Tinkerbell who is, yes, a ‘Fairy’. The two of us tell the little Darlings’ to forget about their parents and come away with us on a big adventure to Neverland. But relax, will you! 
Looking’ back I guess my problems really began when I started planning this return trip to Britain after some 100 years. Do you know how hard it is for a guy like me to get the paper work together? By the time Childcare Agencies, Social Services and The Criminal Records Bureau had vetted me, the magic was wearing pretty thin, I can tell you.

Was I self – employed? Or were Tinkerbell and I in a VAT – registered partnership? Did I have a pilot’s licence, which met all compliance standards? Did I have the relevant Visa for tourists from Non – EU countries? Questions, questions! Don’t all these regulations get you down? Anyway, as Tinks and I soon came to discover, Britain has changed beyond all recognition in the years we have been away.
Our first discovery, much to our horror, was Wendy, and her brothers John and Michael, were some time ago taken into foster care. We learnt that their parents, who were in the habit of leaving them in the care of Nana the dog, had been stripped of access to the children.

TV crews chased Mr and Mrs Darling down the street and a police guard had to be placed outside their door to prevent vigilante gangs from attacking them. Well, that was all too much for Nana the dog who was carted off to an RSPCA hospital, where she was soon being seen by a strange Australian man with a beard and a didgeridoo, who said he could make her a star, on, Animal Hospital.  

Nana said she’d rather be put down, so after a quick call to an assisted suicide group called Dognitas, the old dear’s now pushing up the daises next to Shep in Blue Peter’s garden. Such a waste, she’d been trained by Norland, you know. 
But I don’t suppose that means much these days.

Unsurprisingly, the Darling children went rapidly down hill from there. Shunted from one foster home to another, they fell in with the wrong crowd. Before long, Michael was wearing a hoodie and worse, hanging out with Prince Harry’s lot. As for little John, without any proper father figure to look after him, he found solace in a new faith, changed his name to Sinbad, and was last heard of heading for the Afghan hills for a spiritual vacation. Which is why Wendy got back in touch with yours truly.

So with no one else left to help her, Wendy closed her eyes tight and sent a wish to her old mate Peter Pan. I must confess, when her message first popped up on my Blackberry, I winced. Is there nowhere the office can’t reach me these days? Even Neverland? So I made a few calls, and whaddya know? Hookie agreed to help me out. Yes, I know he’s a rogue and bounder who has polluted the whole of Neverland, after swapping the Jolly Roger for a fleet of turbo charged jet skis. 

Big mistake. We’d scarcely set foot in London before the anti – terrorism squad and Hookie was carted off to Belmarsh. You should have heard him shouting when they took him away! “I am Hook, one time bosom to Blackbeard. The only man to send a shiver up the wooden stump of, Long John Silver. The only consolation for the poor Captain was that the crocodile never made it through the security checks at Neverland Airport”. The other passengers heard that clock ticking in its belly and said they would not travel unless the croc was chucked off the flight.

As for Tinkerbell, no sooner had she returned to her old haunts than a gay rights group called Stonewall said it was totally unacceptable for her old name to be retained. When asked for an explanation, they just threw their eyebrows to the ceiling, sucked in their lips like lemon quarters and gasped: Firely was so much more ‘now’. They even wanted Tinks to change her gender, but we’re still negotiating on that. The Elf’s trade union is pretty sticky on that sort of alteration.

The fairy costumes had to go too, something to do with stereotyping. But when I showed Tinks her new thong, her little pilot light went out altogether, and I’m afraid no amount of Polish plumbers can get it started again. So now I’m stranded and alone, with only my shadow for company. Even Wendy has cut off contact after getting a six – figure deal to appear on a Celebrity show---get me out of here! All of this I can tell you, is incredibly upsetting.

What has happened to Britain these days? I know Neverlands not perfect, but it’s a place where time stands still – and innocence is preserved and I like it that way. Today’s inspectors and officials all say that they’re only interested in protecting children. But by imagining the worst of people they are only wrecking the very innocence they presume to defend.

As I was telling the tooth fairy the other day: “You know Gums, sometimes I wonder if childhood itself is vanishing”. And do you know what she said in reply: “Sorry Pete, I’ve gone private. If you want a consultation, you’ll have to pay up front”.
How about ‘Pay – as – you – go? Sorry Pete, it’ll Neverland!


BY
DARRYL ASHTON                                                      

                                        


Long poem by Scott Howard Myers The Gypsy King | Details |

Wall Street

      

Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of bare bottoms, pelted slavery. 

Upon entry to rule, the open stage of smoked mirrors began to reflect back upon the podium of lies. Taught by scholars from university books of political science. Fearful of leadership matching mirrored images, of false pretense, babbling rhetoric. The stirring masses of discontented, individualistic, thought of as dead - enders, trouble makers, and rebel rousers, rallied aimlessly.   

With super hero, Captain Do Gooder, bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. Weary lost hope combatants mustered courage, and accepted destiny. To this point, someone shouted against the wind of change. Felt by all who sensed the importance. 
"To death do us part of the purpose to which we, the united, stand for justice". 
The chant began, as Captain Do Gooder was dragged away, and cuffed, once bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. 
Damn the torpedoes. Damn the torpedoes. 
Captain Do Gooder, fallen, bruised ego matching skinned knees, lays helpless. Who will save them now.

Second glances from high rise penthouses. Serving champagne and caviar. Brought iron clenched hands once hidden, to draw the stage curtain down. 

With Captain Do Gooder nowhere to be found. The voice that came from pain of pupil. Born within broken dreams of promised lands. Realized nothing was coming cheap on this occupation. 

The dusty streets found Captain Do Gooder aimlessly stepping against the winds of change, down Wall Street. The well-intentioned, arrested and broken spirited, lost hope of recycling any salvage rights taken from them by Metro. 

Was this the end of the well thought out, pushed down occupation.  
Was this the beginning, of the underground faction. Where was senior generation X hiding. Only Captain Do Gooder and the well-intentioned, world stage occupiers, hold the key to that Pandora's box of hope. 

 
The peoples across the oceans were already springing far ahead in their own, more brutal campaign. For they had no cushion on which they were raised to kneel against. Tyranny ran over them.  A lesson yet not felt, or learnt, or taught, in the new world.  No chance of city mayors issuing eviction notices. Bullets, tanks and bombs were of the order. Brought down the line, traced back to the ones our United Nations to this day, refuse to acknowledge.
While leaders there home internet shop, and pump out the lies. Everyone dies. 


In the heart of the continent of center, where unto which as mankind sprang forth, for its first and ever conquest.  
The lights kept dim, to obscure the violent cleansing. A facade to disguise once moreover, the brutal tyranny for which the greed of the elite, control the dimmer switch. Diamonds and oil fuel the fire of war and oppression, on this stage of greed and guilt. Too far away, and too many distractions upon center stage for one to see or care. Thought and looked upon by most as racially motivated.  The origins of all mankind, to be left, far too far, behind. The true forsaken people. Why is man unkind.


So..........will Captain Do Gooder raise the bar to which drinks for the house, and all around, will quench the thirst felt by ninety nine percent of the people............mother knows best.   
Yet, still, self-inflicted roadblocks of appointed destiny, drop kicked long days past. Faint light shining far ahead, within the tunnel of hell, brought up to land. Firm above the depths to which it sprang. The truth of world order.  

Wait......what do we see......do our closed eyes deceive our cries........................................

We see Captain Do Gooder catching second wind. 

She breathes deep now and all can hear her war cry, no longer whimpering softly. As in past tense situations, given way to dazed and confused wall street *****es.  
She builds momentum, as our brothers and sisters lay dying and bleeding. On the streets of some not so distant for telling, of what's to be, will never not be coming full steam ahead and plowing through the hidden agenda.  One step beyond the line drawn in the sand of time, we thought would never be crossed. Give way thoughtless future tellers, and takers. Still holding firm with paper cuts, deep into the hands who printed and prepared such slave papers, kept by the elite bankers. 

Captain Do Gooder returns renewed and refreshed. Our true Mother.  
Captain Do Gooder feels strong, as bruised knees and scraped hands heal. 


Brush of destiny sweepstakes,  allots winnings of earth shaking, volcano erupting, tsunami tidal waves, with bonus draws of worldwide chaos. Future draws are to be held with worldwide winners. Grand prize, dead oceans rising.  

The next generation have no fear digest writes the next chapter. 

 
Hold the press down firmly wall street backbiting backbenchers. Drawn into the crossfire, on her mark, place the x on the next general who dares not fall into civil disobedience.  
Captain Do Gooder has grown teeth, and she is biting down hard against the line to pipe riches, spoiled from her lands. Stolen from the first pilgrimage, fifteen thousand years old, lost empire. 

How dare you steal from, and pollute the minds of her children. Yet old enough to drink and drug and die in war.  How dare all of us. 

Meanwhile back at the ranch.  Captain Do Gooder hugs tight that tree of life, to which sprang all this elbow rubbing and diversion. Wall street huddles in her corner, painted red to match the lengths to which an end will surely bring to it. 
Painted red for all to see. 
The end to friendly letter writing, give peace a chance, make love not war, generation taking a bow, and snow birding it, to false sense of security land. Like the ostrich with its head in the sand. 



Long poem by Ian Howard | Details |

Phobia's

     Phobias
	A Bluto is not that Disney dog
	It was when a mewling 
	that I would scream 
	Should they wet my body
	And then apply cream
	
	Ablutophobia – fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning
	
	Achluo the demon that lurks
	In darkened corners
	The long toothed life suckers realm
	I am scared as the sun dims
	It seems to bare my soul
	
	Achluophobia – fear of darkness
	Acro what did they do 
	They called me acrobat 
	This will not do
	I get giddy standing on a matchbox
	Please get a net to see me through
	Acrophobia – fear of heights

	
	Agora just shut that door 
	I am staying here forever more
	Bring me food put it on the floor
	The letter box is just for you
	Don’t, Don’t,  try to get through
	
	Agoraphobia,  Fear of open spaces or of being in public places. Fear of leaving a                    safe place
	Agrap stole my feelings 
	He caught me unaware
	I am now afraid of sex 
	don’t ask me anymore
	It frightens me that’s for sure
	
	Agraphobia – fear of sexual abuse

	Agrizoo an angry gorilla I knew
	Wild as hell was kept in a cell
	As all his kind, even a timid Hind
	They scare the crap out of me
	Please let them run free

	Agrizoophobia – fear of wild animals

	A gyro is just what I need
	I will fit it to my trusty stead
	He will fly straight across that band
	A tarmac nasty throughout the land
	I cannot face the walk you see
	Agyrophobia –fear of crossing the road

	Aichmohe got in a hell of a fight
	They killed him with a pointed knife
	It will come for me just you see
	I cannot even mend his cloth
	Won’t  touch a needle at any cost
	
	Aichmophobia – fear of sharp or pointed objects (such as a needle or knife)
	

	Ailuro he lived next door 
	The bastard sits on the fence
	To me he snarls not a purr
	A Persian he is supposed to be
	Frightens the *****out of me
	
	Ailurophobia – fear of cats
	
	Algo, Away, I am pain free
	This morphine is the best
	First day of pain free rest
	Been told that it will return
	Got some gas, peace I yearn
	
	
	Algophobia - fear of pain

	Andro I’d rather be               (android)
	I am metal and plastic you see
	Electric person not man or woman
	That would be so sad
	If just a man I would go mad

	Androphobia – fear of men

	Antho the pologist got the plan
	He put concrete throughout the land.
	Not one shrub or flower seen
	Not one blade of grass green
	A flower would make me scream

	Anthophobia – fear of flowers


	Anthropo was a lonely man
	Wouldn’t mix with others so
	He lived in a cave, well just a hole
	You would see his eyes peeping out
	A shaking frame if people were about
	
	Anthropophobia – fear of people or the company of people, a form of social phobia.

	Aqua marine or even the wet stuff
	Is enough to drive me mad
	I stay in when there is rain
	Just wait for the sun to shine again
	A damp tissue that’s quite enough

	Aquaphobia – fear of water. Distinct from Hydrophobia, a scientific property that makes chemicals averse to interaction with water, as well as an archaic name for rabies

	Arach no, and know the score
	Those creepy creatures on the wall
	Send shivers up and down my spine
	Six legs and venom to drive you mad
	I am running already it is sad.

	Arachnophobia – fear of spiders


	Astra my name you would think of the stars
	My gaze goes up but not that far
	To the first cloud there in the sky
	If it’s the shape of an anvil I will fly 
	Fear grips me and I don’t know why
	
	Astraphobia – fear of thunder and lightning
	Atychi that was about the size of me
	The others would just make fun
	I was no good to anyone
	A failure of the first degree
	Nothing my goal, was all I could see
	
	Atychiphobia – fear of failure

	Auto matic I will seek people out
	To touch to play as long as they are near
	Don’t leave me in this place alone 
        A singularity is my biggest fear
	I will hold anyone you see I care

	Autophobia – fear of being alone or isolated
	
	Automat o no it’s not true how could you
	An advert that’s telling just lies
	Don’t all the others realize
	What you say is not true, put it right 
	It will drive me crazy I’ll keep out of sight
	
	Automatonophobia – fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being

	Aviat o if you think I am going in that
	No I am not a scared ***** cat
	If we were meant to go fly
	Wings we would have from him on high
	Fold your machine and put it just so.
	
	Aviophobia, Aviatophobia – fear of flying
	
	
	
	
	Chaeto he was a Greek of old
	Bald as a badger so the story is told
	But why you say is there no cure 
	For him to grow some lovely hair
	For him it would give such a scare

	Chaetophobia – fear of hair

	Chemo therapy keep away from me
	Chemicals scare me I know they are free
	But to have them coursing through my veins
	No matter how good they are, and that jar
	The fear of everything for what they are 

	Chemophobia – fear of chemicals

	Chirop to or not too so I am told
	They stick in your hair best to be bald
	Now I find that my nails are made of hair
	Chirop is what I fear not chiropodist is that clear!!
	Just shave my head and cut my nails dear

	
	Chiroptophobia – fear of bats

	Chromo shines bright in my eyes
	The fear of all colours  I realise
	Now I am safe from a troubled day
	Into my dark room, I have found my way
	Knock when that sun has met its demise

	Chromophobia - fear of bright colors


Long poem by Les Pruitt | Details |

Architects of Humanitarian Crises

Copyright © 2008 #03
4/12/2008 // (Edited: 1/22/2013/lp
(a historical glimpse of humanity's rise)

*This poetic epic begins with the
greatest sin against humanity

*This poem is dedicated to all
serving and protecting the
¨Basic Rights of Mankind¨

Once, mankind was forgiven from sin
but continue to embrace it like a trend

After the Flood many nations strolled
some didn´t want true history told

All mankind has got to realize
humanity had been vandalized

A few condemmed HIM to a Cross
and mankind became a hope lost

His testimony was like no other
a promise bonding men as brothers

So, was it hate, shame or pride?
The Shroud of Turin now abide

Something embedded itself into minds
their egos separated mankind thru time

From images of Christ to the Sphinx
mankind altered their faces with ink

Societies increased across the land
but some became marauding bands

Enslaved many to learn their ways
called indentured servants nowadays

Learning finally opened many minds
forbidden to most throughout time

Conquering became a lust
many thought they must

Barbarians embraced warfare
believing in war over prayer

Some journeyed to build
but most decided to steal

Robbing nations precious gold
slaughtering the young, and old
another story that was not told

Saw oppressing others was nice
ensnared some as their sacrifice

Oppression increased in the land
because of the barbarian's plan

Their business began to boom
and corruption shot to the moon

America, land of morality and hope
still someone was signing for dope

Capital´ism made a few very rich
sin and immorality, Islam tried to fix
paganism and Communism a glitch
a conflict to shove Christianity in a ditch

Old governments embraced the Klan
still got history's blood on their hand.

Kept society busy with Santa Claus
knowing its origin is spiritually false

They knew global warming was real
maybe too late, this just sent a chill

Interested learning secrets of the brain
Drug gangs driving societies insane

Kids with little future left in sight
hopes dwindled like the Knight

Then, later came Robin Hood
with good news from the wood

Someone revived human rights
still, some decided not to fight

No need for humantarian crises
diabolical plans rolling the dices

These sinful plans between hands
slaughtering the lambs of the land

We need to fix this mess
before we come to rest

Most of  world history twisted
some are now rying to fix it

For some Nations, it was too late
capital'ism quickly sealed their fate

Africa was a continent very rich
...now realizing it is in a ditch
never should´ve trusted Mitch

I even heard the Rossette Stone
was hidden in someone´s home

The secrets of Giza
painted in Mona Liza

Even the Eyptian Sphinx
tried to give mankind a wink
now hides her missing links

And, the pyramids contained a sacred Key
stolen by those not wanting us to be free

Someone hide Pandora´s Box
with final desination Fort Knox

Even, saw the Bible's Holy Grail
shipped by Fed-Ex Express Mall

Most gold, and precious artifacts
was found stolen, and hijacked

It´s hard for most to understand
they kept us busy with their plan

So, in this life we must cast our vote
moving forward with faith and hope

Those affected have become a scorn
got them hungry from dusk to dawn

World economies causing a recess
ego and pride got us in a big mess

The Middle East became a feast.
I wonder who planned that piece?

They say Mohammed started this fuss.
through history who dare finger Guss?

These differences in world religions
still affecting mankind's decisions

Humanity began in Africa and Irak
but millions destituted in a shack

The Americas to China has similiar pain
but yrants' view them as a social stain

And, there was oil for food
but someone became rude

So, once again East meets West
fighting over another treasure chest

Expenses reaching trillions
recovery costing billions
death in the millions

The greatest gift is charity
why concentrate on disparity?

We need to fix this mess
or earth soon to rest

Mismanagement of world funds
resources available by the tons

The poor and depair need more
still someone's locking the door

Feeling no guilt with pride
and the fortunes they hide

Corruption and terrorism sown
by a few of government´s own

Someone´s selfish plans ahead
have now made us very afraid...
maybe baked or nuked instead

Distitute's nourishment is baked dirt
nothing else or their stomachs hurt

Most of the time with nothing to eat
weeping for a peaceful night sleep

The 3 pathways to Heaven are narrow
selfish can learn from the sparrow.

When the next ATOM splits and divide
some gonna try to run and hide
knowing they deceived many and lied

So, don´t worry about a thing tonight
soon GOD will make things alright

Then, all children will be able to play
The Prince of Peace will come to stay

So, remember before it´s over
they too needed a shoulder

by: LP


Long poem by gianni pansensoy | Details |

Stitches and Dreams

t was half past five before sunrise, 
when darkness faded into the misty Saturday's dawn, 
just an hour after a bloody confrontation, 
but a brave woman descended into a blood-bathed
street of Lustre, 
with hungry cats and mice on that battleground, 
walking while her purple robe turned pale
with agony, pain and pity, 
completely depressed by the horrible aftermath of war, 
where bullet-ridden houses pounded by an insane belief of
terrorism as a means towards a divine end, 
and victims died as tools for selfish political propaganda, 
while thousands evacuated from the satanic bangsamoro reality
that enriched the few, 
and too many had died under the brutality of corruption, 
some were murdered by extreme poverty, 
where social justice was just an unreachable dream, 
she bled for such an elusive dream.

Yet she strolled in between ruined homes and
broken aspirations, 
through the portal where blood drifted into nothingness
and souls decapitated by a turbulent past, 
while her veil of blue moistened by tears of sorrow, 
with eyes saddened by relentless conflict, 
when the status of civilization was measured 
by the degree of human barbaric atrocities, 
and she knelt down before the walls collapsing, 
torn into pieces by an extreme hate, 
razed to the ground by religious fanaticism, 
When would they realize to co-exist in harmony? 
she asked her thoughts, 
while tears tasted like bitter almonds, 
flowing between her sweet scented cheeks.

The reason behind this violence she could not grasp, 
but to shed tears of blood, 
within her confusion was a lightning, 
where palm leaves fell without solution, 
yet she appeared with an angelic face, 
with eyes shining brighter than diamonds, 
while the moonsoon wind blew her veil, 
floating over the decomposing corpse of a soldier
entangled between electric wires, 
and the dead was brought to life like Lazarus.

He knelt down from death, 
with his camouflage uniform torn by bullets, 
but the wounds recuperated, 
he recognized the blue veiled woman in front of him, 
the divine blessed mother of Jesus, 
he wept like a child, 
and when his eyes opened, 
the  woman went back into
the holy Fort Del Pilar, 
he forgot not the message from her, 

'Son! When humans learn to depart from hatred
then there is no reason to pull a trigger against someone.'
It was half past five before sunrise, 
when darkness faded into the misty Saturday's dawn, 
just an hour after a bloody confrontation, 
but a brave woman descended into a blood-bathed
street of Lustre, 
with hungry cats and mice on that battleground, 
walking while her purple robe turned pale
with agony, pain and pity, 
completely depressed by the horrible aftermath of war, 
where bullet-ridden houses pounded by an insane belief of
terrorism as a means towards a divine end, 
and victims died as tools for selfish political propaganda, 
while thousands evacuated from the satanic bangsamoro reality
that enriched the few, 
and too many had died under the brutality of corruption, 
some were murdered by extreme poverty, 
where social justice was just an unreachable dream, 
she bled for such an elusive dream.

Yet she strolled in between ruined homes and
broken aspirations, 
through the portal where blood drifted into nothingness
and souls decapitated by a turbulent past, 
while her veil of blue moistened by tears of sorrow, 
with eyes saddened by relentless conflict, 
when the status of civilization was measured 
by the degree of human barbaric atrocities, 
and she knelt down before the walls collapsing, 
torn into pieces by an extreme hate, 
razed to the ground by religious fanaticism, 
When would they realize to co-exist in harmony? 
she Asked her thoughts, 
while tears tasted like bitter almonds, 
flowing between her sweet scented cheeks.

The reason behind this violence she could not grasp, 
but to shed tears of blood, 
within her confusion was a lightning, 
where palm leaves fell without solution, 
yet she appeared with an angelic face, 
with eyes shining brighter than diamonds, 
while the moonsoon wind blew her veil, 
floating over the decomposing corpse of a soldier
entangled between electric wires, 
and the dead was brought to life like Lazarus.

He knelt down from death, 
with his camouflage uniform torn by bullets, 
but the wounds recuperated, 
he recognized the blue veiled woman in front of him, 
the divine blessed mother of Jesus, 
he wept like a child, 
and when his eyes opened, 
the miraculous woman went back into
the holy Fort Del Pilar, 
he forgot not the message from her, 

'Son! When humans learn to depart from hatred
then there is no reason to pull a trigger against someone.'


Long poem by Magnus Nwagu Amudi Esq | Details |

i celebrate you my friend

The year that is about to make its last appearance 
before it dies and is buried to be only given a place 
in the history of our existence has brought  ?e joy, 
l° shall therefore, out of obligation rather than 
leisure acknowledge its fairness and generosity. It 
began on a high as l° aimed to make it through the 
Bar exams and to be successfully called to the 
Nigerian Bar. This singular goal, controlled all 
others and made them seem less important. In the 
end, the story ended greatly, we all do love happy 
endings, l° am a Barrister and Solicitor of the 
Supreme Court of Nigeria. To God be the glory. 

Yet, the most important aspect of the year wasn't 
the fact that l° became a Barrister, rather, it is the 
fact that through the demanding and rough 
journey of reaching and achieving that goal, along 
came people of great personality, people l° knew 
had the character to spur you on and literally uplift 
you both psychologically and in every other positive 
way possible. For the first time in my life, l° was 
opened to the richness of the earth's diversity, both 
in religion as well as in culture. l° even spoke new 
languages and danced to new tunes. l° was given a 
new eyes, l° did see the world from another 
perspective, it was thrilling and l° came to see the 
blessing in the cultural and ethnic differences. But, 
the crux of the essay being friendship. 
The year 2012, gave  ?e the most supportive, 
reliable and cheerful individuals to work and also 
relax with. These people not withstanding their 
different social, religious and academic background 
did with ease find a common ground and built a 
strong fold for friendship. There were moments no 
doubt during the year when it would have been 
quite impossible to move ahead without the 
support and undying motivation of these 
individuals, as l° do stand at this bridge, about to 
cross to the other end of the journey, l° would take 
a few minutes to say a very hearty thank you to all 
of you. From my parents, without whom there will 
be no Barrister attached to my name, words fail  
?e. l° do say a big thank you. To my siblings who 
went out of their own financial obligations to 
support  ?e through the difficult but productive 
year, l° am ever indebted to all of you jointly and 
severally. For a friend like no other, master 
Chinasa Orji, let your heart desires become reality 
unto you bro and the same gratitude goes to the 
entire Orji family. l° will now try as much as l° can, 
to mention a few of those whose friendship, 
alleviated the burden of the journey through 2012, 
and l° say the list is not quite chronological, l° just 
add to it as l° do remember, these persons include 
but not restricted to:
1. Mazi Ezegamba Esq. 
2. Mr. Frank Somto Esq. (Ajo anu)
3. Okpara Chinedu Esq. 
4. Mallam Abubakar Lawal EsQ
5. Mr. Yage Bamiyi Esq. 
6. Adesola Adelusi Esq. (Miss)
7. Amarachi Esq. 
8. Tony Amaechi Ojukwu (Esq. )
9. Sir Nnanna JOJ Oketa (Esq). 
10. Richard Bassey Iyaha (Esq.) - God bless you 
brother. 
11. Chinelo Ogbozor Esq. 
12. Churchill Udedibor Esq. 
13. Henry Onugwu Esq. 
14. Forster Eneh Esq. 
15. Kingsley Chime Esq. 
16. Mr Magnus Akabueze
17. Emmanuela Oraegbu Esq. 
18. Nonso Nzedebe Esq. 
19. Orji Ukah Agwu Esq. 
20. Chinedu Ezeokoronkwo Esq. 
21. Emmanuel Okoroji Esq. 
22. Peterson 
23. Onyinye Nnorom Esq. 
24. John Daramola Esq. 
25. Chisom Nnabuife Esq. 
26. Ebikaboere Abiri Esq. 
27. Tobi Esq. - Mi consigliere
28. Michael Dokpesi. Esq. 
29. Mr Idowu
30. Mr.  Majemite Emoubonovie Esq. - very 
untamed. 
31. Mr. Samson Itodo Esq
32. Muna Nweke 
33. Da silva Joy
34. Kingsley Uwakwe Esq. 
35. Nneoma
36. Kaobi Esq. 
37. Chinwe Ozobu Esq. 
38. Ifesi Udeh Esq. 
39. Ihezi Okeafor 
40. Ezekiel Egbo
41. Chima obiEze Esq. 
42. ID Kabasa - my esteemed barber
43. Mary Alice Simms
44. Victor Mok Esq. 
45. Bukky Esq. 
46. Josh Olomo Esq. 
47. Edosa Esq. 
48. Detola Esq. 
49. Bassey Bassey Esq. 
50. Sammy Udoh. Esq. 
51. Sabastine Udoh Esq. 
52. Iyke Ananuba Esq. 
53. Kingston Esq. 
55. Victor Idiong Esq.
56. Mariam Ekenimoh Esq.  
These and many more people that l° can't put all 
here for the lack of time and to make it less boring 
to read really and honestly contributed to my 
success in making this year count and l° pray that 
the year we are about to witness and explore will 
bring us more reasons to celebrate, love and 
share. 
Do have a great NEW YEAR.
Love.
Magnus


Long poem by Roy Jerden | Details |

Cruising the Drag

Sipping cherry limeade, driving in the car parade, 
We're cruising in the Lone Star state
Didn't want a bucket seat; the thing it couldn't beat, 
Was sitting up close to your date
One hand on the wheel of daddy’s Oldsmobile, 
My arm around my brown-eyed girl
Feeling pretty sporty, radio on top forty, 
I was cooler than the Duke of Earl

The lady of the cruise had her penny loafer shoes, 
Her bobby socks were turned down twice
With a little eyeliner, she couldn't be much finer
Too much and it wouldn't be nice
There’d be no wild oats under those petticoats
She’d never go all the way
Just a perfect flip-up 'do and cute look number two
Practiced in the mirror all day

Hear those tires squeal when I make the rubber peel
For the flyboys waiting on the bus
To take them to the base where they don't feel out of place
Not cruising like the rest of us
I was the drag's head honcho as we pulled across the Concho
And we saw the lights along the riverside
We'd had quite a lark at Neff's amusement park
Playing putt-putt and going on a ride

The cheerleader squad rode a killer hot rod
With a spinner on every rim
A perfect tuck and pleat on every single seat 
Courtesy of Wanda's Auto Trim
Candy apple red, it would really knock you dead
It was a drop-top Pontiac
One was there to steer and three were in the rear
Posing up on the back

Those football beauty queens in their skin-tight Levi jeans
Were followed by their biggest fan
Checking out those lasses in his Buddy Holly glasses 
Was the nerdy little Aqua Velva man
In his stainless steel braces he grinned up at their faces
They iced him with a haughty air
He never would forget it; they would later on regret it
When he became a multi-millionaire

A four girl bevy in a big finned Chevy 
Were riding west on Sherwood Way
Four guys right behind in a pick-up state of mind
All ready to make their play
Thought they were the smartest cruising pick-up artists
But those gals were pretty astute
When they stopped and the guys started telling all their lies
The chicks started putting on the cute

We turned the car around and headed back downtown
Cruising down the boulevard 
Stay cool daddio, bear right at El Patio
And take it down Beauregard
There were lots of pleated skirts and those button-down shirts
The flattops were everywhere galore
From a Lincoln Continental, we heard an instrumental
Mister Acker Bilk's “Stranger on the Shore”

We slowly pulled through BJ’s, listening to the deejay’s 
Announcement of the next hit song
Leaning on their doors with their Brylcreem pompadours
Two hoods were playing Mr. Wrong
Completing their disguise, they slouched with narrowed eyes
And did their best at looking mean
With a twist of his pelvis, one was doing Elvis
The other did a fine James Dean

Like a sweet potato vine, the bride of Frankenstein 
Was entwined around the Marlboro man
With the passion of their make out, they should have gotten takeout 
And opted for a bigger floor plan
With her big black beehive hair and his fancy western wear
They were putting on quite an awesome scene
I had to give a chuckle at his huge silver buckle
But those M.L. Leddy boots looked mighty keen

I pulled the Olds on through, and we bid BJ’s adieu
And I put us back onto the street
With those four whitewall tires, we made for McIntire's
To get ourselves a bite to eat
We stopped for some fuel, over near the school
In those days they came right out to you
Best place on Earth, ‘cause with a dollar’s worth
They’d check your oil and clean your window too

The drive-in, painted green, was quite the social scene
With people mingling car to car
Everyone was caring; the drinks they were for sharing
Especially when they were in a mason jar
She ate a big banana split, and then left me for a bit
To comfort an old friend not feeling right
A moment more to linger with that final steak finger
Then I took her home and called that one a night

That was many years ago, but some things you don’t outgrow
And I think back to when I was a teen
When doors were left unlocked, and children safely flocked
Unchaparoned at night on Halloween
And sometimes at night, when the stars are big and bright
And I’m deep in a Texas state of mind
I think of that lass who was in my high school class
And I wonder if she thinks of me in kind

August 10, 2012


Long poem by Dylan Irvin | Details |

Waters And Skies

I.
You can always tell by the eyes
When they’re starting to go
You’ll fall for a few of their lies
Before you begin to know
And you will just defy it
(But they know you will never go)

They’ll glide through the waters and skies
The erratic behavior will soon begin to show
Above and away the storm dies
A cold, hollow feeling in a black and white glow
And they will justify it
(But you know it will take them slow)

You’ll slowly begin to realize
Static is policing their echo
The red stitching in their burnt Eye
That will probably never unsew
And they will just deny it
(But you know they will always go)

II.
The phantom’s days are aphotic
Ocean whispers deicide to Moon
The morning clouds aquatic
Reaching the waves with a bent spoon
Mind is lifted and neurotic
The Earth will come back to you soon
And you won’t feel so erotic
While alone in your hotel room
(Sex with the city sleepers)

Alive where Death lives
Gone where the waves go
Asleep where dreams wake
Dead where feelings die

…A light where the stars are burnt…

III.
Bid these feelings words
The machines of waters and skies
Embody the gliding emotions
Like clouds they shape themselves and go

Write this bidding to feel
Remember the thoughts that were
Like waves they flow and fade away

Rid these words of feeling
Feel anything at all, fall…
Like wind they take and they stray

Feel these words to rid
The masks and chains of oneself
And the dark feelings that boil within
Like trees they raise themselves and grow

IV.

Ocean dreams of phantom mechanisms
The world is cold and full of ghosts
They watch as their generation swims in murk
And the funeral of social segregation will never breathe
The night mirrors reflect the soul of a poet
Only one comprehends these idiosyncratic vowels
Like waves they flow and fade away

V.

Under the white and blue cloak
The clouds are my poet smoke
Rain is the cleansing of wicked nights
With venom pollution and spider bites
That flood my mind with a static tan
Vanished through the wire, I already am

VI. 
Her clouded eyes they lock to me
I, a sight she was not meant to see
My ghastly ripped soul exposed
Our deepest feelings transposed
And I know this one’s a lie
A worn exhausted sigh
Printed from the pressed death within
Those eyes seek Life all over again
(Her flawlessness the only flaw)
(His flaws make him flawless)

VII.
Phantom is high and dark as crow
Moon showers greetings below
Ocean mirrors it’s divine glow
Cloud attempts to steal the show
Earth is screaming, we ignore it though
Mind is planted and dying to grow
Life is tired and waiting to go
Static is torn and ready to sew
Death is late and killing slow
Eye is two and one doesn’t know(Shhh!)


VIII.

The flames scorching the depths of Eye
Splitting the reign of one into two
I met Satan at the gates of Hell (Phoenix)
Only to be spit back to Earth like scum
Half alive and crawling through the moor
Realization was the key to the shining door
Oh my god, I’m one. Eye am God.

IX.

The mountains between the waters and skies
Keeps dreams from reality and pulls reality from dreams
Mind faces fears of the night mirrors and reflections sleep
And the liquid light of the moon opens a gateway
Where dreams don’t sleep and strength never weakens
A world where control doesn’t slip between the seams
Of your sewn mind… 
(Free yourself from the shadows of life and death)


X. 

Through cataracts in the skies
A distant moan begins to rise
Through an uncharted cloud
Of a puddle yet to be in drops
The fruit sky shrieking aloud
In a garden of iridescent crops
With blooming pollution in clad soil
Entwined in a cumulonimbus coil
Morphing into a levitated brook
With a broken and faceless rook
In a receding horizon losing it’s form
Cackling out to the tempestuous storm

Flashes of embers in skies blink
Flooding the faintly seen brink
Of the distant washed away galaxies
Pygmy slowly galloping through
Rolling clouds in the skies of aquatic blue
A delicate touch of colored waves
Painting rainbows on sea graves
Where pirate ships set sail
Through a violent pour of hail
In a limitless sky of falling streams
And an icicle ocean of drying dreams
Through cataract jets in the skies
A static ambience calms and dies…


Long poem by Darian Rehder | Details |

Love, Death, and Rebirth

The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Her father. 

Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.

She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left 
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too. 

She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before 
And growing darker day by day 
But she wouldn't let that stop her. 

Suddenly a year had passed... and then two 
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
Anyone...

With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries 
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light 
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand

The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives 
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.

She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
It would.

So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself

She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it 
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.

That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late 
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.

She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared,  and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying

Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn

Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!

And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here

So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?


Long poem by Brian Johnston | Details |

Black Body

I.	Imagine a stack
Of razor blades
Bolted together
Polished edges
Forming a blunt mass…
Who would guess the 
Blackness of that face? 
	
II.	Picture Pandoran box
Harboring atom pulse; 
No less a voyeur
The scientist peering
Through revealing keyhole
Finds an interior
Darker than any light.
	
III.	Such an inscrutable blackness
Is called a black body; 
Acceptance of its existence
Gave birth to uncertainty
Blurred the determinism
Of an earlier age…
And color returned to God's cheeks.
	
IV.	Though it might not seem worth mentioning, 
This dark, absorbing mass when heated
Radiates such bright intensity
That man has yet to find its equal; 
Long before black bodies start to burn
All other forms have been destroyed; 
Darwin might have seen a truth in this.

Brian Johnston
Written during my graduate studies in Physics around 1968.

Poet's Notes: 
I love this poem's utilization of images from Physics to illuminate and comment on a real life issue. I think this poem was also motivated by my extreme disappointment in those 'intellectuals' who hide the meaning of their poems in abstract literary references. This seems to me to be a rather extreme form of cultural elitism. These poets are the 'Bullies' on the poetic playground. I hope you, dear reader, will not think me a gang member. See below...

A 'Black Body' is something very different from a 'Black Hole' which is more popular in popular scientific discussions these days. A 'Black Hole' is an immensely huge object usually found at the center of a galaxy. Its gravity is so strong that remote stars millions of light years away are forced to encircle it.

A 'Black Body' however is physical object one can hold in their hands. Stanza's I. & II. in fact describe how you could make your own 'Black Body' out of things found laying around the house.

It's hard to imagine that a stack of razor blades could actually look black but it's true. When the sharp, highly polished edges of the blades are turned toward your eye it actually looks black because all of the light that hits that face is absorbed and cannot reflect back to your eye. So its blackness has nothing to do with color, and everything to do with the absense of light.

It is a little easier to imagine the blackness you see peering into a keyhole of a large chest. No matter how bright the flashlight you use to see what is inside, little light actually comes back out of the keyhole to your eye. It bounces around inside the chest and is again absorbed. It only increases the temperature of the chest.

3rd. Stanza: In Physics the study of 'Black Body' radiation helped to destroy the earlier mechanistic view of the universe which thought that (as crazy as it seems now)     that if we knew the position and speed of every atom in the universe we could perfectly predict the future for all time.

The study of 'Black Body' radiation also helped to force Physicists accept a new reality, that it is in fact impossible to know a particle's position if we accurately determine its speed. The opposite is also true. If we accurately know a particles speed, it is impossible to know its position. This research give birth to what is now called 'The Principle of Uncertainty' and so now, instead of seeing the universe as a big mechanical clock that God wound up and then left because he got bored with it, we have a universe where even God perhaps is unsure of what's happening next. Or in the words of my poem, 'And color returned to God's cheeks.' God's creation was no longer a mechanical, predictable monstrosity! 

4th Stanza: This last stanza plays off of the word color which is another name of course for 'Non-White People.' The poem then refers back to another property of a 'Black Body' which is that if you heat up a Black Body, it can radiate heat away from itself so efficiently that it will last much longer exposed to intense heat than anything else you might think of. Which brings us to the last line of the poem which suggests, rather humorously I think, that the worse White Society treats People of Color (the more we pack them together like razor blades for example)     the more likely they are to evolve beyond us, a kind of social 'survival of the fittest.' Thank you Charles Darwin.


Long Poems