September 24, 2008 at 11:38 am (Uncategorized)

Welcome to world of creativity, freedom, and no limits. It is as much mine as it is yours. Please feel at home as you explore! Once again, welcome!


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The First Psalm of David

September 4, 2008 at 5:04 pm (Uncategorized)


1. That man wey no de follow the thing wey bad people talk, God don bless am, that man wey no de follow yeye people de siddon

2. But the thing wey God talk n aim e de make am happy; and na wetin God talk e de do day and night

3. That man g be like tree wey dem plant near big big river, wey de bring out im fruit when the time reach; and im leaf no de dry, and anything e put im hand don better.

4. E no de be like that for bad people, but them de be like back of groundnut wey breeze de carry throway

5. So therefore, bad people no fit stand before God for judgement, and sinner no fit stand for where God people gather

6. Because God sabi the waka of good person, but the waka of bad people na to waste.

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WE DON COME AGAIN: A Prayer for All Gunners

September 3, 2008 at 5:26 pm (Uncategorized)

WE DON COME AGAIN : A Prayer for All Gunners

God bless all lovers of sweet football

God bless all who admit that Arsenal is the sweetest

God bless all Blues and Reds and that admit that we are sweet

God bless our team for letting us know in time that we will not win any trophies last season

Unlike the players who kept their fans guessing till the last day

They had the last cry of the season TWICE.

God bless all fans who love Arsenal

May your workshop not catch fire, EVER!

Everything you do will prosper

We have come again to thrill you

Blessed are those that hate us, for every weekend they will hate us more

When we turn their home match to our practice session

The more you hate us the more we force you to play defensive

What else can you do when you do not EVER have the ball?

We don come again!

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the curse of a muse (poetry)

September 3, 2008 at 7:57 am (Uncategorized)

those lonely moments

boring lonely moments

when the world is too heavy

when the world deserts the muse

those moments

make the muse

lonely heart, wanderer in the desolate

barren lands, arid landscapes

bare trees, empty catacombs

each holds a story

told only in the quiet solitude

only a muse can bear

the harsh sentence to silence

and bear it still

till the tale is told

recreating, recording, re-telling

re-enacting, re-living

calling out the past

unleashing emotions hidden or dead

the loneliest of callings

there i am condemned

a muse’s calling

that is my curse!

Chuma Okoye

April, 2008

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