Best Godwin Poems
Mary Godwin -- soon to be Shelley --
Writing with Percy, Byron and Polidori
To create the scariest horror story,
Gave life to a monster of immortal glory.
In these Days, We prayed series...
The 7enth innatemeditation
REASON
Brethren,
Do we believe that the same God,
Who has endowed us
With sense, intellect and Reason
Has intended us to forgo their use?
Thus,
A wise man who tells another he's wiser
Is indeed wise.
A man who wishes another good fortune
Is blessed with many fortunes,
Go ask a fortune teller.
A good woman once told my forebears
That a belle with a gladden heart
Was called maryglad in the OLD religion.
A preacher man in his thoughts
Is holy and righteous.
So he is therefore clean and spotless
Like the Lamb of God.
Well the few who knows this truth live peacefully
And Let his congregations argue with reason.
Is he not the son of God they know?
An angel (Reason) told me that the judgement
We face is writ
If only we chose to believe it.
He continued '
God loves man too much
To condemn him to eternal damnation'.
I then asked
"Why does the preacher man
keep this part a secret?"
He replied 'cause men have lost their ways,
And their little hearts are full of hatred'
A countryman who condoles mad rulership,
For greed and personal gains is himself mad.
Know that no man is born content
Religion and the constitution gives him
All he can ever ask for.
After all what else could a man ask for.
At the break of dawn
The night worker is again alive.
Last night, he died to self and lived
Sub consciously for his employer.
Don't argue with reason
Go ask a night guard.
Godwin henry osaigbovo pa shakespeare
"Though her visuals, depths and span have been prominent in my life's story, I am sure the Atlantic sea has never thought of me." ... CayCay Godwin
I was in the oven when I first crossed
over that vast ocean sky high above
her on a plane to Germany where I was born.
At age three a ship upon the Atlantic sea
sailed me to America, my home country which
was foreign land to me. At age
thirteen I was lent a dream, a sponsor
paid my way on a tour for chaperoned teens of
four European countries. Flying at that age,
I finally, truly saw the sea's awe.
In Amsterdam mist I was first kissed, a feel so
robust a romance mostly by
mail prevailed for a decade plus.
After high school, I pooled goodbye tears when,
again, my dad was sent to Germany
and with my sis and mom went overseas.
I flew across the Atlantic and back three times
for Christmas love, hugs and kisses.
From Cape Cod to the Keys, I have played in her waves.
My life told includes the Atlantic's role.
Africana, a poem that details the pre - colonial, colonial and post -colonial Africa, her rich history, struggles and unique cultural heritage in a picturesque execution.
Africa will Rise Up Tall,Bold, and rule the Earth again
But first Africans must be Africans and more, not more and black.
Mathew R, 2014.
initiator, AFRICANA - the movement ©
AFRICANA (A Poem )
"Our forebears broke kola nuts
And offered prayers
To the benevolent maker,
Whose name varied from one tribe to another.
They lived in peace and harmony."
This was way before
The meek white missionaries
Made landing on our shores.
Africana
They condemned our customs and traditions.
They said our ways were too primitive.
So they burnt down our shrines
And in its stead,
They gave us their three C's.
(Christianity, civilization and commerce)
Africana
These white saviours, in their glowing white robes Baptised our forebears
In the name of the Father, his Son and his Holy Spirit.
Whilst our fore-elders learnt how to pray,
They formed a government,
And on our natural Resources they preyed.
Africana
Albeit their government lynched our forebears.
In the church,
Both the oppressed and their oppressors
Screamed amen.
From two conspicuously separated rows;
The salvation bringers occupied the front seats
The back seats, sanctified for the blacks.
And they said their God was impartial.
Africana
They captured, tortured and shipped
Our forebears to the americas;
To work their cane plantations,
Cotton fields, paddy fields, sugar plants.
The unfortunate ones, thrown overboard
To swim Frank's ocean.
Africana
And many centuries after their first landing.
We, the descendants of former slaves,
Rose from our slumber
And fought for Africa's uhuru.
This freedom many willingly laid down their lives...
And when at last,
We were declared independence,
Our struggle for survival begun.
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
Godwin Adizue Ibeh
(1937-2017)
Mr. Godwin Adizue Ibeh
Aged 79 years
Was and is
My beloved, doting father
“Is” because he remains
Spiritually present
Present
In my memory
Present
In pictures and mementos
Present
In my dreams, smiles and tears
Present
In my prayers and imagination
His spirit
Hovers in the air
Above me like a hummingbird
His presence felt
At the mere mention
Of his name
Mr. Godwin Ibeh
Or simply “Daddy”
As I used to, and still
Lovingly call him
Or "Prof" by close friends
And acquaintances alike
Was a Nigerian-born
Naturalized American citizen
Migrated to the United States of America
In 1968
A bearer of many titles
Hobbies and accomplishments
An alumnus of Central State University
Wilberforce, Ohio. Graduated in 1970
With a BA in Psychology
An alumnus of Xavier University Graduate School
Cincinnati, Ohio. Graduated in 1975
With an MS in Correctional Psychology
An alumnus of University of Nigeria
Where he also taught Psychology in 1981
Received a PhD in Education
Specializing in Guidance and Counseling
He also moonlighted as a probation officer
A writer and a taxi driver
A father of four
First-generation African-American children
From oldest to youngest
Mildred
Yours truly, Edward
Stephen
Jeanette
A grandfather of three
A father-in-law of two
A former-husband
Of my beloved mother, Rose
An avid collector of hats
A voracious reader
And collector of books
A lover
Of jazz and classical music
An intellectual
A sage
A mensch
His personality
Avuncular, warm, and humorous
His smile
Radiant, brightly beautiful, beautifully bright
His laugh
Honest and infectious
His mouth
Spoke no evil
His destination
Heaven!
For he’s a child of God
And has led
A good, successful, fulfilled life
Gone, but never
Will be forgotten
Rest in peace, Dad
I will miss you...
Mother
Better lose the saddle than the horse’.
Every mother’s voice echo these 7 words
To her child, not just out of love,
Not entirely for love but for joy.
The joy of motherhood.
This life will be hard (they say)
Nwa m, ma o ga-adiri gi mma
She assures her young child.
n’ihi na o buru na nwatakiri adighi
Enwe oganihu o no n’aka nne
The pains of motherhood.
A mother is a child’s guide through life.
Come, follow me, close your eyes
Think of the rose, and let us go;
She said to her child at birth.
The duty of motherhood.
Nne enweghi onu ahia
A woman who has children, does not die.
She is a mother, in life and beyond.
Her name forever in the hearts of her children
And their children.
Her presence felt through memories when she’s gone.
Every child will grow up,
Age and fade off with time.
This life cycle of ours is like a river,
It goes and comes.
But a mother’s milk is priceless.
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
SPEAREPOETRY
Mother
*yoruba edition*
'Better lose the saddle than the horse'.
Every mother's voice echo these 7 words
To her child, not just out of love,
Not entirely for love but for joy.
The joy of motherhood.
This life will be hard for you
Omo mi, sugbon yio dara fun e
She assures her young child.
Nitori ti omo ko ba ni ayeye o wa ni owo iya
The pains of motherhood.
A mother is a child's guide through life.
Come, follow me, close your eyes
Think of the rose, and let us go;
She said to her child at birth.
The duty of motherhood.
Iya ni Wura!
A woman who has children, does not die.
She is a mother, in life and beyond.
Her name forever in the hearts of her children
And their children.
Her presence felt through memories when she's gone.
Every child will grow up,
Age and fade off with time.
This life cycle of ours is like a river,
It goes and comes.
But a mother's milk is priceless.
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
SPEAREPOETRY™
'From A LIth Book Of Tales'
On Cultism...
'Dodorima, Abankrier, Obuogede, Awumen,Omi'
Shout and chants that derails youths of their Concentration and goals in life.
Community brought us all together
But secret societies;
The blacks,blues,yellows,reds,greens.
Each having their own evil agenda,
Killing the dreams of tomorrow
Our tomorrow, their sad outcome.
They now cause pain, sorrow, hatred
And sour bitterness.
The elders laid these foundations
So we know
Same elders who laid waste, all hope on tomorrow,
Still hope for a divine change
A better tomorrow.
We had all wanted to grow up so fast
Three little boys, friends forever
We'd promise,
Then college -
'The future these ones gleamed at a rush,
I wan be bros so soon mehn
So i fit show all these em bros eh poblem.
Wahala and kakataka follow everywhere
They go now.
'the leaders of tomorrow'
Them just fall one guy for front jus now
Scores na 7 - 8, we go equal am soon believe.
Mothers cries and wails swell up to heaven mos
For the street, that one na jam, them never see
Hearts harden,
The devil trembles,
The earth swollen
Gods didn't do this,
Man did.
The hate we gave to the little ones
Came back to F everything up.
The faults in our own stars...
*****'closes chapter'*****
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare ...
Efosa Shadraque
THE RISEN HEADS
We know ourselves for long, since ages
A time we spent in a small kiosk as bar boys, in the weekdays
A time we spent processing fish in the odd days
A time we spent tossing tops hunted from *Tanu
Oh yeah, happy old days, formulating our dreams
We have a dream and dare live to it
Its true we change not in a day but overnight
That we called a miracle, but alas unclear and forgotten
The secrets and sufferings behind the curtains
The struggles for the new phases of faces
How the cogs of the mill chugs upon the flesh
sleepless nights for the dream
Empty stomachs just to save a dime
Long long walks away from home
I forsake the love of a family for it
It was like a trash beyond the debris of a torrent
Landed where it pleases, good or bad to be
This day I have the meaning......
Now, you shall define molecules to me
Now, I shall explain arts and meaning of poetry, if to recite this.
Dedicaded to Dr. Godwin Dogbevia. PhD (Molecular Biology)
(c) Lamptey Godson K. 30 th Nov. 2011
*This heartfelt poem is dedicated to the family of Robert Godwin Sr.*
His face is the symbol of God, family, togetherness and of love.
For Robert Godwin Sr. is the gift of God's blessing and treasure
of who has blessed this world with his presence;
not only with memories of gesture from family with the added support from The City Of Cleveland, Society, and the world abroad;
but with the symbol of family that brought our cities families together from the heavens above...
Robert Godwin Sr. taught his family true values and now his example and lessons are being taught to the world through the thoughts of hatred nor through the color of one's skin;
But through the hands of God and the message hidden within a rich name known as "God-win" ( God will always win in the end)...
*May God continue to comfort your family in your time of sorrow*...
April 12, 2013
An ode to LIFE (AGBON)
The yesterdays,
The todays and even the uncertain morrows
In accordance to the law of nature
Are in a state of a perpetual flux.
The many stages
We have Experienced
Thus far,
Buttress and assert the karmic theory
Which states that
'whatever goes up will be reversed so
It can be reached'.
Our decisions and indecisions
Are guides, navigating our paths towards
Its designated fate,
For a man is wholly free when he is dead.
Oh!
How true and dedicated many remain
To life's hustle
Amidst it's bellow mysteries
And power tussles.
Which arise as a need mistaken
For peer pressure,
For to sew a clothe, a tailor
Must first take a measure.
Agbon
You are cheap but yet priceless,
Harsh like the fate of Ikoka men after the curse.
Sour Sweet like the taste of the Otien fruit
And indifferent to man's plight.
Agbon
A statue should be made in your name
Because your fairness knows no bound.
For if you were biased,
Only the few rich will survive
Whilst the poor, animals
And the trees will go into extinction.
'A wise man lives once
And leaves while dying.
While a fool dies several times
And regrets even while living.'
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
'Going going gone
Says the ticking clock
For each breaking day draws
A man closer to his end.'
The true essence of time
...
Efosa, his mother had named him at birth.
For against all odds,
She too has become a mother.
With high hopes and expectations
She single handedly raised him up
To be a fine young educated man.
For inside Nigeria?
When graduates yapa anyhow without work.
Brother Efosa in search of a better life
And greener pastures, don enter street
Since the kpali he got from the university,
Nor gree bring work
And man must chop to survive.
There's no wealth but life!
That one na big man yarnings.
While there is life there's hope
Na poor man motivation be that.
Beneath the smile and laughter
Of Brother Efosa, lies
Unshed tears, endless wants and needs,
Unuttered ' i don tire for this life sef'
Because even inside the street eh,
Everywhere red anyhow.
So the next time you see
Brother Efosa, be more
Gentle and subtle in your dealings
With him, because life hard reach
Him corner.
*draws curtain*
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
A billion dollar structure to worship
An invisible God.
Why there are a billion persons
Who go to bed hungry.
This God in whose image we were all created
Did He create the Rich
And then separated them from the poor?
What pleases God more?
Our pastors keep saying tithes and offerings.
But then,
This cannot be Love.
Yet our preacher said 'He's a God of love'
Does any of these make sense to you?
Yes! To you, Mr Mbaka.
Or aren't you a priest anymore?
You are a christian alright?
A priest like his flocks are Christians right?
A pastor like a priest.
Are similar, in serving this True God in one way:
They are always Rich.
Or are they among the few Meek who the good Lord
Commanded to inherit the goodness of the earth?
Last Sunday; like every other Sunday
An old haggard looking mama came and on the alter,
This holy and sanctified alter, she dropped her widow's mite.
Unfortunately for this mama who died
Tuesday afternoon;
Cause of death being chiefly hunger.
So sir,
Does your church, the building i mean sir;
Does it bear the burdens and the true needs
Not the wants of the likes of that old haggard
Looking mama that died just two days after
Dropping her widows mite.
Because the preacher man said;
'To receive from God;
One must first give all they have
To get all they want'.
How true is this,
Your most senior apostle?.
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
Ever wondered how most civilization got lost to time;
Read the poem-
MY HOME (OWA MWEN)
.....
When i recall the good old days;
The invaluable golden memories
Shared with neighboring kids
From my small village,
Such rural scenery, so precious and invaluable,
Oh! the smell of raw earth after it rains
The boju -boju game at full moon
That, even the "oyibo land and education" Cannot steal from me.
Fast Forward to the todays,
I see children born and raised
By parents who we'd once shared so much joy and laughter of childhood together;
Lacking the beauty of their grassroots(African) ties.
They speak through their noses, the language of the aliens
They detest the thought of food eaten with bare hands,
Nor can they give a reply when asked a question in their mother tongue.
Oh! How I weep for my generation
How I've lose sleep for my friends living
Both home and in diaspora!
I fear for the legacy we'll leave behind;
Our culture, our people, our morals, our values;
For these young ones:
The flagbearers of our heritage... Our essence.
If truly, this is the way to live and pass on;
Then, it is a pity that we won't have a people in time (future)
Yes! We won't have a culture; no history
Nor have a place on the surface of the earth
Cos our descendants would have forgotten
Their origin
And how we once lived!
Totally abandoned;
Relinquished to dust, to nought
To the vials of extinction.
Peter Ekhator Godwin Iyendoe (pegi)
For SPEARE EARTH POETRY
FFILA,
In these days, we prayed -SERIES-
"TELL FREEDOM"
June 10, 2017
TELL FREEDOM
‘ The Black Soul ‘
TELL FREEDOM
Sanity was dressed in filth
And nobody recognized her.
The long days and warm nights
Sped along, chased one another,
And were lost in time.
And time,
Man, and something within him
Conspired against him and his innocence.
While the darkness of the land
Rushed on to meet him.
Suddenly, three overgrown and uncultured
White boys were about him.
"I'll have this one,
“A ginger-headed lad said.
"What's the matter?" He asked em.
"You're going to fight us,"
The ginger-headed lad replied.
"We fight fair," another added.
"I don't want to fight you", The black boy pleaded.
"You'll fight!" the white boys iterated.
But for what reason should I fight you?
"We want to kill you!" they replied.
"For what crime?" He screamed.
"You're black," one of the white lad said.
"Ready!"
"For this much all men know:
Despite compromise,
War, struggle,
The black man is not free.
The ***** is not free
For he plant while others reap
The golden increment of bursting fruit,
Not always tolerance, abject and mute,
The receipts of his forced labours cheap;
Not everlastingly while others sleep
Shall he delight their limbs with mellow flute,
Not always bend to some more subtle brute;
A black man was not made eternally to weep.
For it’s a known fact that:
‘A black man only exist
In this world,
Without truly Living?’.
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare