Segun Ozique

Hope remains to turned to when all else are drained When amber of coals nolonger plume; dulling dream When the heart-intend deed based on prayers goes dopey  As intents, linked; robed around such realms go hopeless As the last coal crackles and hearts of mortals weep Downcast eyes beholding heavens on high in plea  What hope remained when only prayers the retreat? Do panic be the option; cowed to bow to ungodliness? When sirens rain defeat sounding wails of lamentations Hope stays shinning glorious never bent or burnt As wish it remains, even when dowsed, set on fire Rain storm of prayers as source we still must turn For, from angels cove, where the hope saviour stays The redeemer; wingless cherub, hears pray cries, to step in.

Journeying to an end with some is heavenly: Drawing wish; prayers of a never painful part However, regress, regret or progress are faced For me, my prayer as always is, get imparted As all journeys vomit splendid learnt curios, of Darn good and loaded momentous memories Living on in us as no end but a changed route So also end journey with these others lacking  Delicacy and demeanour as scrimpy minded Deficient in sense of dignity; never playing fair Who make expeditions weary miles of frowns By their unforgettable, unkindly spates words But by shade of dusk, the bruising heat over Come flowering season, upturn you will again.

Mine is an Ataga potpourri family .......Like sweet stew; Appealing, delightful, desirable ........And dynamic......... Shaded in colours of: Black, brown to pinkly .........As characteristics: Quirky, snobbish, ducky, Lordy, funny ..........And, of dual countries: Dutch, US, UK, Japanese as Nigerians ...........Needing navigations Like sitting at drawn bow, arrow tip; ............all dealing with: Great care and moderations tread; .............As.....................most........... Are, rabidly loving: Capriciously humorous Then these others, absolute nuisance; and, Remaining few, God have mercy, abhorring. ...........Still, all considered: Never must any be treated less humane Righteously must we all breathe: For love is, Ataga; a blessed tree with blossoming fruits.

The world is at the height of the most modern sexual liberation; a maturity of the sexual revolution that began in the 1970s in the Western world, and like osmosis has permeated every nook and cranny of the globe. We live in the most sexually liberated times of human history. Access to information on sex and sexuality are only clicks away to any and everyone with access to technologies, whether it is phone, television, computer, or cinemas. The sexual liberation has also brought with it, increasing acceptance of different ways and manners as well as sexual orientations only spoken of, in whispers. For instance, it was unheard-of to openly claim to be homosexual, lesbian, be single or divorced, in relationship and practicing premarital or swinging sex, or two ways polygamy. But these days, such thinking, acceptance, declaration, no longer sounds obnoxious except in certain quarters where they are practiced but never admitted or spoken of. In thinking about the above trend, I began to wo

This passion I plea do please lead me Being blindfolded has been my undoing As I seek where my true love masks Where to find trust without borders Helping me like walk upon waters So worries would not dip me as I rest Take me deep, no matter deeper My heart, my whole to love surrendered So, my fate be made to nolonger wonder As my place as my designingly destined Is to be perpetually in my lover’s blossom. Pen to you wherever you are my truly lover.

Believing is the depth of confidence and desire Endeavour backed by nourishment to achieve Believe in yourself and you would be amazed at What discovery journey working on yourself leads: What heights are immeasurable when you do believe? What defiance defies solutions promptly reckoned? What complications entwined not simply seemed? To uncover the influence of faith in your own ability. Believe in yourself as is your dream as day awakened Mountains are flattened, ragging fire quenched in strides Determined as purposeful sweeps; obstacles removed. Yet doubt, even tiny bit, sees your staked cards tumbling. Bottom Line, the test is in your endurance and persistence In gifts of grit as resigning to reason; letting ability lead.

When can adults be labelled as behaving like children? When such adults exhibit lack of ability to, inside and outside their homes, act in such ways that model emotional well-being, supports healthy as well as rational sense of self, cope with stressful situations, manage emotional arousal, overcome disappointments and frustrations. When such adults lack basic social competence to be able to develop and maintain positive mental state to get on, get by with equals, subordinates or elders in group, organisations or associations as well as ability to get along with and respect others no matter whether they are or not in agreement. Such basic learnt skills would carry with them, proper use of civic language, empathy, cooperation, etc. Generally speaking, the above is same as such process expected children go through, mixing socio-cultural, environmental and parental orientation to help horn their developmental    competence as it relates to motivation, attitude, cognition, etc so that the

As the sun goes disappearing behind hills,  The shadow lengthening on earth  No one it seems have noticed  The truth that nature denudes  Revealing the task-master's cracking the whip Remixing it with the diminishing movement of the hoe  And us, though woefully toiling back bent to break;  Our bodies systematically synchronize with the beat;  Dancing to bed with pregnancy and waking with the birth'  A generation of work to meal, meal to work beings, born  Who rising at down, are only able to sniff at breakfast  Whose luncheon item is programmed to an alarm  And supper they leave to the mercy of beat-up brains  Welcome to the phase of degrading capitalism

Birthday as yours is worthy feast for feats To begin from the 21st yearly and stretched To 20th of next June, with memory nostalgic For hearts in deep love with you never wane My wish is God gift you your wishes and dream Guide you only on paths designed by Him Continue to light and line your lane with wealth As your body and soul sour with good health I wish you joy, ridding on wings of happiness A life time blessed I pray, no happenchance Sprightly splendour you wake to at cockcrow Feasting all your years as princess crowned.

                       I Take gender and the glass ceiling prejudice: Regardless of the colour or tone Not getting the CEO job I was most qualified? Stinks Why? Because I, a woman was not as suited Words dropped like shit Stung Robbing into my skin like a splinter and,  no matter the finesse, cannot be removed.  Makes me want to puke They infect  Tuning my mind bitter Reasons running in my head like a mantra  The feeling is of worthlessness The nights after, maddened with tears I stayed up bugged Burden upon my chest like tons of bricks My stomach, filled with venom, churning Here I    am faced to face with catch-22: Each steps I took growing, Work hard to be all you can be as told, I did But here now, I am grown, frozen In reality weather never forecasted. Morning of my rudely rebirth To an earth quaking world I’m    learning to crawl, walk and run at once Learning to know who I am Re-examine my name, my place, my role Know who are my neighbours,  To a new consciousness of my kin To