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Details | Epic | Being On Piece Contemplate the good will Pearl comes out its shell Fight its nightmare as fire frozen ice Melted its dreams hopes created heroes Crushed in many bridges silence overcome Making a new day altogether joy in hope Simply being in one piece

Details | Epic | Rejoice From One Piece Contemplate the good will in people Pearl comes out its shell lit of hope Fight its nightmare fire frozen ice Gathered in pieces thrust kill hate Its freedom dreams raise unborn heroes Resurrects in born blood deny its past Making a new day raising hopes in lost Altogether in love in self sacrifice After all we rejoice from one piece

Details | Epic | HAPPY POETS DAY Poetry is a language For it express the feelings And emotions of the writer Showing his or her Interest and awareness Telling a story Showing history Giving memories. Poets are light of the world They carve out stories With inks and edifying words Giving inspiration and more Touching the heart Enlightening the mind Increasing the thinking faculty of the reader. It's world poetry day A day for heroes and legends That couldn't pull the trigger But fought with their pen Against injustice and cruelty Fought for freedom and more Salute to all poets in the whole universe.

Details | Epic | Leo Messi I love a person small, He sprints alike a young gazelle. And when he turns afront the goal; He does is so very well. He's got seven ballond'ors, And he's got six golden boots. He's counting seven hundred and more Of goals scored with his left foot. He won hearts of generations That have seen his two feet run. He won the World Cup for a Nation That has been dreaming for the sun. He's a poet that runs in the field, And the green grass kepps him through. His courage is the only shield That helped him go through. All hail the king of football, All hail heroes of the globe! All hail the football GOAT That wears the golden robe!

Details | Epic | Mighty Mighty Wicky Wicky Mighty Mighty Woe Woe Mighty mighty wicky wicky mighty mighty woe woe Wouldn’t it be cool to be like G.I JOE Cruising with Barbie goin to the might rock show Couldn’t make heads or tails of where to go Sometimes toys flow from the mind I find With different thoughts of all kind of ways Mighty mighty wicky wicky mighty mighty woe woe Only you can prevent forest fire Finding the nature of human desire Comic books are cool I read heroes for hire Mighty mighty wicky wicky mighty mighty woe woe Stuck in a paradox of the mind Answers escape the madness that I find Music is a relation to the world you see It’s the answer to a prayer from me to you Mighty mighty wicky wicky mighty mighty woe woe

Details | Epic | Stand Alone In the light of the dark In the dark of the light Standing alone are the Heroes Against evil they fight Evil lurks At every turn Any given moment Ones soul may burn True are the ones That make that final stand Freedom they have sought Throughout this land Some died when they fought Yet died with a purpose Evil is not Solid, and visible Evil is lightless And mental Free will, is the evil In some men Others use it for the good Yet men are cursed With greed, and lust for power Only when we are face to face Notice we will In our darkest hour Evil is not Seen by the eye Evil is seen By the soul Dark, and light Represent evil and good The dark can be pierced by light The light not pierced by dark To evil men must Finally say hark

Details | Epic | Prosody Let me try to go by pioneering heroes' spirit That motored their antique tides of phrase, And treat rapt souls to a mild sublime ode, Forged to rhyme with old sonneteers' pace. Now where does a tottering novice start As he pens such a crystalline work of art, To honor champs in grave's dark repose, And regale pupil protégés in equal dose? Let me like Andrew Marvel swiftly pen Authentic tropes to the best of my ken; And as Shakespeare debug tart myths, That wit eschews meekest wordsmiths. And deal Wordsworth such fitting due As meets his laudable classical styles; And for Sidney weave echoing rhapsodies That tell masked sagas via metered guiles. I'll like Robert Frost's swiftly twined twists, Blame melancholia for path-splitting mists.

Details | Epic | Hymn of Prophecy--The Rising the roses are wilting in the midst of winter the lion must wake before we splinter time if uprooted when there is blood to be spilled death is incarnated when there are men strong-willed graves cannot contain what was once theirs destiny is in need of its chosen heirs when rivers run dry with red stone there will come a man who must stand alone i hear the fates calling a name someone has risen above their shame with sharpened sword in hand a man will come to reclaim the land tomorrow is uncertain and never clear masked by trepidation and fogged by fear but a man is something more than this heroes stand as one mighty fist a man will come to lead the few against armies of darkness they had once slew together they will ride from history until the blood ensures certain victory

Details | Epic | Dawn See's Everything Dusk to Dawn the battle goes on, , Wars have gone on in rage for centuries. Fighting off fatigue, suffering & disease When at War all that's adverse is the enemy; No heroes coming home, the only heroes that our known, their corpses are going home in a body bag. On this battlefield good men died, at home women cried and wondered what went wrong. With courage in our hearts and never quit for a song We fought hard and at times fought very long. Stuck in this hole face to face with the enemy fighting with all that's, left inside me. I'll be damned if I'm not going home this time around. On these killing field's we dwell, Stuck in this playground known as Hell, it's not our choice, this isn't where we want to be. Come morning well be gone, as the battle rages on By dawn, we'll have seen everything...

Details | Epic | My Father, My Hero So many heroes, I have know So many heroes’ names untold The greatest still is kind Loving and even smarter then he knows He holds the love of so many But no one loves him more then I His oldest Daughter, Sarah Jho So many lives have change for the words he wrote Some find it hard to believe such beautiful words come from A man who stutters so very bad But make no mistake the most amazing poet of our day Stutters as he tries to read the words he wrote The greatest hero I have know has overcome so many pains He battled drugs most of my life Now years clean and he is back in my life Hepatitis was the next test But with no surprise as I knew he would He won that test But saddened still nerves Would die and he can labor no more and he feels a useless foal But my hero do not worry for what God has in store For a poet’s hands are meant to write Hold a pen, and dance on paper To create a piece of art God has chosen a new path for my hero’s life

Details | Epic | Paradise With Pious I know when you abase me at kunan, was sniffy day for me. My people at that time were surrounded by threat and poverty. Know it they are dearest for me. I warn you sacrilegious nation, Hacklers are arriving to hack your appearence. Get lost before with helish creations from me. You hang my pious sons like, Maqbool and guru. Your aim lost itz fame. Thousands guru hold firmly my flag on me. I swear as a Nation of paradise. My whomb is full of heroes like Burhan. They lustrate your illegal occupation on me. I remember the bright faces of my martyrs. You have to slouch your sloppy face. Libertrians are alive to rip u away from me. Your thinking is what? I don't care. Remember my Nationalists and their nationhood. You have flee, flee away from me. You seek pardon, Alas you are not pardonable. What you poach? I don't have dearth of sacrificers They love dearly, i love them and they love me. Your art makes jhelum red by blood of innocents, Remember, i am paradise . I am with pious and they are with me. ........ Saim.....

Details | Epic | A Patroit a city built without a proper defends is easily trod down and if a kingdom tears apart strangers wears it crown a nation who do not honor it heroes is not worthy to die for and it dreams are hunted by nightmares and horror each a one for himself god for us all it does not only rain on one mans roof and a nation built is built on truth if you pretend to be blind you fall in a pit in the kingdom of heaven only the righteous has a seat a group of blind men cannot embark on a journey for among all insects only the bee produces honey the house of the fool is chaos but that of the wise is paradise for god do not live in the heart of fools but that of the wise the mighty is not the strong but he who is wise for only an intelligent man saves a nation from slavery and gives them a common identity a bird is praised and its praised by it beautiful feathers good traditions are not to be forgotten because life is for the living the story of a hero is told from generation to generation the strength of a nation is from its foundation

Details | Epic | Hymn of the Sidhe At Uaigh Na Gcat Where regal forts lie dormant now, Once Maedbh beheld the Sacred Cow, At Cruachan of the fifty mounds, From Uaigh na gCat came Faery sounds, A vision, behold, Róisín Dubh, Symphony of my stolen love, Never before a sight so fair, Like Adams ale flowed burning hair, 'Come now young seeker, take my hand, And come with me to Faery land' And then she hummed her Faery tune, Invoking ages of the moon, 'For who but you may understand, The grieving whispers of this land?' Blessed am I, behold this sight, The Sídhe summon me tonight, 'And who but you may come to know, The seraphic language of the crow?' 'Come now young seeker, from the cold, And know not sickness, death nor old' Then louder grew her Faery tune, And slowly I began to swoon, 'You once were children of the Sun, Where heroes dwelt there now are none' 'Deepest silence, they must endure, But not for you whose soul is pure' 'The time will be upon us soon, To sing the chorus of the moon' At Cruachan of the fifty mounds, From Uaigh na gCat came Faery sounds, Boldly now I took her hand, And off we went to Faery land

Details | Epic | Friend Or Foe Our heroes fight but not for fame... Humbly battling not to win a game, But to better the world in which we live... For you their all they are willing to give. Their reward is never paid in gold... The glory of their deeds never truthfully told, Instead other take credit for the honorable deed, A hero needs no recognition to succeed. Their sacrife only brings them sorrow, But they continue to persist today and tomorrow... Forever spiraling into the abyss- Providing others a life of bliss. The heroes you see have a right hand not known... Of whose glory is never shown, Because those who seek recognition from you; Are not the ones acting on what you think they do. We cast a shadow often great, But a hero does n debate... His actions are selfless his mind is clear. A hero fights only against what we all fear. When great cities fell in our past, Whose are the names that went on to last? Not the soldiers or the widows who cried... Remembered great conquerors lived not died. Those who gave their all and were slain... Fought suffered and died in vain, But were the incarnate would do it over the same... A humble man hides not behind shame!

Details | Epic | Hector In ages long ago, when heroes roamed the earth And gods and monsters roamed the land, There was a mighty warrior known throughout the realm As the greatest of them all, a man of might and courage, His name was Hector, son of Priam, king of Troy And leader of the Trojans in their war against the Greeks. He was a brave and noble warrior, feared by his enemies And loved by his friends and fellow countrymen. But Hector's greatest foe was the mighty Achilles, The son of a goddess, a warrior without equal. He was swift and strong, with a heart as cold as steel, And he had vowed to bring down Hector and his city. The two clashed on the battlefield, swords ringing As they fought with all their might. But Hector, despite his bravery, could not best Achilles, And he fell to the ground, defeated and mortally wounded. But even in death, Hector was not forgotten, For his bravery and selflessness inspired those around him To fight on and defend their city with all their might. And thus, the Trojans fought on, and eventually, They were able to defeat the Greeks and win the war. Hector's legacy lived on, remembered as a hero For all time, and his name became synonymous With bravery, honor, and the will to fight on.

Details | Epic | Insanity My mind quizzed me I became insane Thrashed by the hopes of yesterday Vanished dreams embraced me Gulped down by the qualms of tomorrow Swam through the ruthlessness of life With my head buried in anguish of past failures Hail those that broke through Hail those that challenged the status quo Hail the heroes of our past I'm challenged by horrors of times of yore Dark images with no flesh I see Foaming beings with blue eyes they sail Shadows feature in my dreams Nocturnal beings toyed with my feelings Toothless ghost smiled at me I was swallowed by my fear By the inscrutabilities of life Alas! My fears are over I no more walk in the market square With my pants used as head gear Ancestors our village Libations were poured to you from the calabash But you refused to accept food and drinks Am I insane again? Or is my mind quizzing me Why am I wondering in the wilderness of my past? Or has my brain been twisted again Why am I dreaming yet again? Or has the toothless ghost been made to smile at me once more Am insane, but not in the asylum I walk among our people With lost hope and cracked dreams With lots of questions on my mind Don't look at me with your naked eyes Just with the eyes you can't see me But I’m not invincible Insanity reigns in my blood *Sat*22nd Sept*2012*

Details | Epic | When the Lion Roll's when the lion roll's in the jungle the lesser kings never cross a boarder limits are made when power differs in the jungle we are hungry for a life our world is made with troubles no escape root despite we work like the elephant in the jungle of no humanity yet our story never change in the third world jungle's when the lion roll's in the jungle the lion is fearless ever ready to protect ever ready to fight ever ready and awake now I realise why every lion in our third world countries are wild but die young if not why our heroes are a lot underground when the lion roll's in the jungle one can't mess with a lion it could eat you up it can tear you in pieces it has a lot power to fight you down while blood rolls down your body now I understand why the brave is hunted and feared by our enemies like the rolling lion when the lion roll's in the jungle you have to be prepared you got to be alert a lot has gone down a lot can still go down in our ghetto jungle's a lot of our lions has been cut off from our reach a lot of our brave lioness has been killed they got vision they embark on their mission with out fear and roll like a fearless lion when we saw their motives in our jungle we hole heatedly made them kings yet not too long so many of our lion are underground cos enemies are always scared and ready to kill when the lion roll's note a dedication to our fallen heroes!

Details | Epic | Echoes In the Stone ECHOES IN THE STONE No one can turn back the hands of time Reliving the war, TEXAS her independence The tombs so deep, where real hero's fought and fell A place so precious, sacred in every hold A timeless journey, with no stop to heal To find your eyes upon this treasure's glaze Hearing stories not found in fairy-tale books Finding GRACE in this AMAZING place The legendary ALAMO, over freedom, a ghost town Walking by the thousands, beyond this land Outnumbered Echoes in the stones A painful event, UN erased Defenders of the ALAMO gathered to unite With their life's they put up an honorable fight Heroes who embraced a defeat in March 1836 A battle deeply wounded overnight Bravery in their hearts No time to be scared. Where the wind now blows, Echoes in our souls. With one touch, embrace the south wall Hearing whispers, sad echoes-I call Chills traveled down my spine Standing among all heroes who are still buried, In their home at the ALAMO Echo's in the stone Proud of the ALAMO. Echoes in the stone Where a hero still stands tall Heroes even beyond their last breath, Death being their only bail Heroically fighting with their own will and liberty In hopes, that justice would prevail The ALAMO rebuilt, standing strong Full of life, in the center of San Antone' The voices, the scream, Piercing the stone Fighting till their death "Remember the Alamo!" The echoes in the stone, a hero's home Locked inside each stone of eyes Heroes who died, Cried their last words "VIVA THE ALAMO!" SKAT

Details | Epic | Leonidas, King From Heracles immortal line sprang Kings of Agiad The blood of Gods and heroes in mortal flesh thus clad And such was Leonidas, half brother to the King Cleomenes of Sparta, of whom the poets sing When came the call to Athens aid when none would take the stand Leonidas Spartan stood, three hundred by his hand ‘We will take and hold the field against the Persian hordes At Thermopylae prepared to die, we greet them with the sword.’ Thespian and Theban heard and rallied to the call Their phalanx in the narrow pass an impenetrable wall. Xerxes watched the waves of men diffuse against the might, as Grecian stalwart heroes held, until the loss of light. For two full days the Pass they held, whilst facing fearful odds, until undone by Ephialtes, betrayer of the Gods. Across the hills by mountain path were the valiant undone And Leonidas understood the rearguard shield was gone He called the valiant to his side and marked his standing stone Let thespians and Thebans turn, here Sparta stands alone Three hundred stood in scarlet lines their valiant death to wait and leave the field upon their shields as every Spartans fate Thus fell Leonidas King, who stood when none else dared Defending Athens and all Greece lest dishonour ensnared Remembered in the halls of Zeus with victors laurels bound Three hundred stood three hundred fell and sanctified the ground And thus the Delphic Oracle’s foretelling came to pass That all of Sparta be destroyed or else King Leonidas One year upon Plataea’s fields, with the final battle won Remembered every Grecian heart this noble Spartan son

Details | Epic | Boston Marathon Tragedy no doubt sympathetic poured in exceeding a ton sans the reverberations from the supposed terroristic act doth stun although neither a native bostonian son nor one who opts to run my track record racks up with any manner of pun yet only tears for deadly explosions and incalculable loss of limb it less life barring none when cataclysmic dynamic explosions occurred around 3:00 p.m. on mon day april 15th, 2013 with inexplicable psychic piercing pain punctured as with countless gun near bunker hill where american revolution bred battles for freedom bought brandished weapons from colonial americans feverish cry for independence caught with blood, sweat and tears of lexington and concord fought with nada one justifiable reason and now motive sought but...when perpetrator identified justice will be taught adhering the state motto "By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty" for religious or those of secular beliefs whose lives rent asunder with grievous heartbreak wrought despite the race, religion or creed of those mortally hurt and/or killed, i feel such heinous deed only the mindset of a live googly eyed yahoo doth feed with relish the innocent lives forever he/she now gloating with glee as a miser with greed at what august athletes (suffering les miserable’s) lack any wherewithal to heed for who could foresee where a twisted mind or two would lead ambitious disciplined bodies would so suddenly need triage with others on the sidelines to plead for desperate intervention with utmost speed heard by ordinary folk now cast as heroes bursting forth like a hardy weed.

Details | Epic | The Secret Place of the Most High The sun illumes a land in precarious peace, There was a time when heroes walked with ease, But now, complacency reigns shamelessly, And the distracted people take weal for granted. The decaying dynasty finally crumbles and tumbles, The peaks and gorges are once again scorched, By the scourge of purges and the roar of warlords, Stately cities are reduced to ashes as they clash. For the fortunes of men forever wax and wane, Burning ambition paves the way to perdition, With their towering arrogance, they brandish lances, They charge with fury, seeking eternal glory! The hooves of their bolting steeds tread rudely, Upon the hopes and dreams of common rubes, Lauding themselves as the rising ascendancy, They conquer and scheme without empathy. Amidst such strife, men and women cry and sigh, They brood as they are driven into servitude, Streaming away from the ruins of their hearth, They weep over fading memories of bygone mirth. As for me, I am well aware of the follies of men, I sought not pomp, power or to lord over and reign, Thus, God rewarded me with an oasis in the chaos, A quiet utopia of everblooming peach blossoms. Of clear skies, lush gardens and teal colored lakes, Day and night, I gait gently to the tune of a flute, And compose poems while gazing at silky moonglow, Everyday, I delight in this wondrous Eden of my own! The faith and virtues I so steadfastly accrued, Have freed me from the bane of men’s feuds, For I now dwell in the secret place of the Most High, And abide in the shadow of the Almighty! All rights released into Public Domain 8/27/2016

Details | Epic | We Heard It Over the Radio We heard it over the radio We heard it over the radio and I don’t know if it’s true It was today at the gathering by the village square The chief had just bought new batteries so everyone was there The newsman sounded excited as he spelled out his story He said a son of the soil is now the paramount chief of America America, that land of the white man who once called us monkeys And now I hear a monkey reigns over them I recall it wasn’t April first so the chances were high So high that the elders were summoned to look into the issue For if the crown was for one of our soil then who were we to still toil As the elders met we sat by the oracle and waited Offering our obese goats and hailing our fore fathers For now a born of their line had the world by its horn When the elders emerged it was smiles instead of wrinkles Mzee Ojok’s land was to house the village rice milling plant The sons of Labeja would widen the village paths for tarmacking Schoolteacher Okello would write the congratulatory letter And remind him to start work as soon as possible Fathers were to send virgin beauties for our new heroes’ bride The choice of course would be his when he landed the iron bird But for the first night, Chief Ocuc was giving up his own bed and wife For whoever the gods choose, we their subjects must worship Within one week all was set, new drums curved and songs proposed Lands had been cleared and roads all trimmed Mothers ceased weaving and busied grooming daughters Eight years already and this son of Obama is not yet here Yet today, the newsman said his reign is coming to an end The elders believe its because the gods are angry with him.

Details | Epic | The Rhythm of Africa, Collabo With Mo Marugu Unsung on the world stage Heroes of the African continent Diverse lingo, diverse souls Capture minds capture hearts Most unappreciated Their rhythm echoes Their wisdom ancient Music unconventional Yet heavily intoxicating From Papa Wemba "show me the way" I gyrate to Kofi to Fela Gola "vita imana" I don't have to understand My hips do as I sway You can go the whole night dancing to "malaika" by fadhili Williams But don't drink too much "umqombothi" You still have time to remember From the shores of jazz to the apex of jazz Hugh Masekela always eponymous For when those hips are exhausted a break to the sound Bembeya Jazz National "Ballake" always soothes And the list never disappoints There is a bite for every saccharine moment A melody for every savory memory A satisfactory note Your ancients called it "engoma" Rhythmic drums whose sounds traveled From the eastern tip to the jungle Now Kingoma is the apex of swahili rhythm Your "engoma" carried across the shores Upon many a downtrodden slaves stole And your rhythm salve for the souls During periods of darkness and plight In slavery and apartheid Through many of your children's plight Only pleading for their rights Sam Cooke "A change is gonna come" such delight But you liberating spirit of "engoma" Not confined, Cesaria Evora the barefoot diva Dared break the bounds of boundaries Trailblazer for your brothers and sisters No longer a confined orphan But a shimmering star And now you fuse a new generation Always so creative psquare "personally" To Wes "Alane" to Yossur N'dor To D'Banj to Akon, shimering stars of the continent Your children were called the passionate ones I agree

Details | Epic | God Bless Rwanda Beautiful land, hills, and valleys and even the lakes, Everything so attractive to fell in love with, My nation so peaceful with the nice people all around, Unity, harmony and understanding each other are our major keys. Our leaders are the kings and queens of centuries, They feel worried when they see us living miserably and suffering, God gave my republic everything in order to maintain its good people and beauty among us, We feel ashamed for where we acted abnormal dear homeland. I like it when my old man tells me of the past, wish you too they do utter, My youth we work hard to develop as well as our beloved nation, Heavenly father blessed us because he knew where we had come from and avoid turning back, We keep on moving to our future that we know only holds good and better for us. Dignity and prosperity is our motto, My best leaders keep on telling us this day and night in order to prevent me from being abusive and arrogant or cruel for my motherland, I hate disappointing you my beloved one, We, the ancestors, heroes and legends are your children we won’t bear for those that curse and wish you bad, Just wanting to destroy your nature and beauty, I will never give-up on you at any cost. Am struggling for you and always will do, Ride with you into wars and get injured or die at most, Will never rest knowing you’re at your worst unless you’re safe for me and the next thousands of generations that you will deliver my significant one. I feel like crying or should I scream because you make us all proud dear good land, Heard that everybody wishes to call you his/her motherland yet you gave birth to few but the entire universe is fighting to have at least a bit of your sweetness. Wont judge any but we and them love and adore you to the fullest and till then. God bless the universe, people and my Rwanda.

Details | Epic | Brutus Iulius Trois Page 04 Brutus Iulius Trois Page 04 Venus hastened to answer Aurora You still weep for Memnon but where is Memnon's grave? the squalling Memnonides yearly honor an empty tomb Immortal Memnon dwells in the hall of slain heroes disporting himself among the Hesperides the new guardian of the golden apples To the sinister of Jove sat Juno under her aegis her tunic shimmering with all the bright colors of a peacocks throat her raucous voice louder than its morning song many promises were made said Juno promises to Venus, promises to me some were kept, some were broken of those remaining which will Jove keep? vows to Jove's wife or words to Jove's daughter Should we ask after another judgment from Paris? Minerva glared at the other Goddesses and angrily gave advice to father Jove Banish these unruly Trojan children remove them from all the shores they have known perhaps then peace can be made between us and the Trojan wars truly ended Jove stood and there was silence The Trojans are our children but the Trojans are not children Venus would you have warriors wear woman's tunics and hide in their homes as barbaric anarchy reigns Juno I keep what oaths I may but even I must bow to fates decrees if life's tapestry were to be unraveled even we would be swallowed by chaos The unsettled ones will be gathered and scattered to new homes in the wilderness in the west well protected by wave lies the isle of giant Albion, Neptune's son he that was slain by Hercules to this Isle shall Brutus bring his Trojans To sleeping Brutus Venus softly came Greece is no place for a true Trojan though your cousins shall soon rule here these last Trojans must begin wandering anew When Brutus awoke he sent to the Trojans sent them to hiding, in the deep forest to houses of shelter, to caves in the hills then sent he a message to Pandrasus the king we'd rather die savage beasts than live as tamed pets we are sons of Troy though Troy is no more therefore Pandrasus we now take our leave