February 26, 2018

BREATHTAKING-MOTHERWIT

Breathtaking-unbowed chins,supporific flames,a passing streams,A spot gangrened grey tumour,from the seasons' engrossed crucifix,batterring through the darkest clouds, Pensive have i not motheaten,pensive have i not motheaten, Thoughts that outgrow days,days that outgrow thoughts and the gulf like eternity,my pensive mind breathtaking.

THE BALLAD OF ABRAHAM'S SONNET-PART THREE

I aggree."thus with gallantry smilling,he alluded to get rich quick syndrome and the oracle was sealed. His bravado,threw up his fellow friend a Yoruba,who took him down to the herbalist,off his balance,and at some point,interrogated him," Emeka,you were so rash to exchange your life for vanishing wealth.That was too harsh.Dont you think so?"he bombarded him in suspense," My friend,that misery or penury exceed,what i could bear.Let money come,i will find my way and my children would enjoy."he noted with satisfaction.Almost three years Emeka was so rich and had erected eight two stories buildings. He was bounteous with him and showered him with eleemasynery including medicineman.He was fond of countingthe time and seasons,even prior to the death.Intergrity dies,when misery or penury batters the living dead jonesses,Oh we were so lucky when we neplusulstra dances at our ensconce,my brother regains its intergrity,abstemious wight no more sunken,though my sister's frequent adamantine,abide still the darkest hours

THE BALLAD OF ABRAHAM'S SONNET.Part 2

He eats like a gourmet in this darkest hours and with stinking fondle of this art,he did fondle,none stale in his mouth and tummy,Then heypresto,with this juxtaposition,if we contrast,i marvelled at the fallacies of intergrity,in a trying times,By the hood that howling wilderness,without gallantry hurts hence greedily,How come a benign personage looses it and then availeth much less,an etiquette wight,Were this rot in him not exhumed a pussillanimous winces to his pouted misery?Not unlike my brother's clownish sameness pigeonholed and embittered,kicked his hoofs intandem,Intergrity vanishes for those disgruntled elements who have it but battered in times of misery,My elder-sage,my prime racconteur,Baba kwara narrated so touching a tale that i was emboldened to enthuse same about vanity of intergrity,Misery let him down into the world of rituals,at the expense of his,for want of riches,for his progenies,"You will be rich but you live three years and death shall come. Do we aggree?"says the medicine " Yes Sir,

SOUND WAVES Part two

eternity wine presses.See,how we work and we sweat,how we sweat,when we are tired,and how we rest when we are tired,And how tired are we,when we fail to rest, when the waves'tender curls,my intricate hewn carresses,exhaustion flies out of the door,Refreshing,reinvigorating,an art but nature's dose and benediction,wouldnt have been possible without its surgical or caesarean section,recuperating mortal gaunt,What a beautiful dose that nature freely gives with no condition whatsoever,Blowing in reason of the season of the season and out of the season,rampagingthe cosmos,alongside the nature's spirit,waves,blast ofthe wind,sole energy of ontologytitivates them all,The windstorm will not unleash its arts,be itwindswept,windstorm,windward,windtunnel or windiness flexes,without itswinnow of the seasons and battering of windy winepresses agogat the winsome windy-yard,all presses,tilt at its windmills,be it windfall or windgauges,orwindbreak winching at the windy yard,See,sole energy of ontologyflexes at the windyyard

SOUND WAVES- Part one

The sound of the waves was sacred and apalled me on my bed at my low tide,when it began,My intricate hewn carressed by its breeze,fleeting through the windowpane could not alight to evacuate rainwaters fallen from the roofs,for domestic cores,The waves were sacred much more sacred than our gospels and mysticism are,The spring of the ocean resting at the seashore,symphony of the waves like the music of a minstrel and soundwaves of a jazz band,Never heard such a thing before?The soundwaves blast from the serenity of the night,from the serenity of the gulf,The waves blowing at my ensconce,so soft a tender curls,carressing my trembling pawn,i tried in vain to alight and unravel its byzanthinous root,O root of the waves,so sacred,the breath of nature,sole charm of mothernature,strenuous as i tried,i could not decipher,yet mystique blanketing waves of the mind and spirit exceedeth and much mysterious,And lo,blown away my intricate hewn,somnabulist of the night,walking in his sleep,This stronger waves licked........

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-105

Each gauchy cloud cleared in its time,yet for a greater sail supplanted when the clarity is beamed aforth,And nothing i repeat nothing ever changes providence like time,time and patience my greatest warlords,Will thy image not my heavy eyelids battering rams of burden not feel me in?In hope that we might scale distant hills not aversed when even home far away from the forest is safer either,and all entreaties for halcyon days faraway from the marauders'nest fall on deaf ears and hazy feet not derided and ashamed to prowl the misty but forlorn roads,For like thee the watchman watches not,i whilst thou dost repel elsewhere scatterbrains too numb still and be it faraway and nigh all sapiens by etiquette and semblance immutable,To play nightwatchman gladiators,clumped in misty cloud intoto stampede,Yet distant land's silvermoon greedily and vacuously,they in vile fret in vain as if wishes were horses,that beggars might ride.

February 25, 2018

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS' DIARY: SONNET-104

Will the pebbled shores make wand towards waves or in reverse? Otherwise,so do the birds of passage frisk away livery rapturous to the end,And every tacit transit doth inscrutable fret illimitable,Still In the clamour of toil,doth a vacuous bone contend,The vanishing shadows that ere generation in chaos and infecundity ambiguously contest,regiment once in the briddle of lightning,fiends to distand lands unknown,canst not salve,Where with being silvermoon appogee's boon doth not this contend,Etchinated feet,a glory of transfix'd gaiety,time cannot deny, And still that gave him glamour doth providence barely contend them,time doth silvermoon contest not when flourish is set,to spring it forth,to jewels on laborious soil,worth its salts,Fructiferous heels feed on the rarities of such curios,And nothing ever abide forever,except if it be a ficlkle or a mere fragrance of its old change, And yet to times ever changing prowess,that distand lands,distilled by heavenly moistures,are despatched .

February 20, 2018

THE BALLAD OF ABRAHAM's SONNET.PART ONE

Abraham was sunken delight,His family was sunken delight too.And his tripple siblings and he not left behind were ravens,excluding his trencherman's little horses,an abstemious sister and brother,"I am not greedy for food,i am not thirsty for water,"so she says but well kept,so he says too but not well kept, Make hovers hear the gouges in his stomach fly,As if contented,may not be satisfied,inconspicuous,ruinate this gesture broadly,but his brisk i kept vigil,Pretense like a coat now drenched with mist barely abscond,Here is a paradox where trenchermen and gourmands flex for brawns,blinking through the furnace,avarice thrives,with grins entrapped beneath a corrosive,Oh my brother may have made this pretence like the good trencherman that he was,an aloft of a day's hunger,not forsaken rebound threw up the avarice in his coat,And back to gourmet like we threesome,fret his tummy,Neither sated Abraham's gripe nor the acerbic binges and ravenous guttural heaves him a sigh of relief from this trademark addiction.

TRANSITION

Brethren,transition,discipleship,husbandry,peripatetic. Your perpetual horse,perspiration clockwise and trojan horses above the jugular.From the golden pearls of youth,epic of the golden morn rises. In that dim style,have i grasped the nettle with the ambiguous shadows. And awry balls not paused but forever nethered. Now turns to no stale as to revert back into the dim.Of obverse of the fiendish obviate and dead throe seabank.And in this obstrusion averted,memory keeps your hope,for nothing like success without mental alertness and preparedness.

HEIRLOOM

"Why are those heirlooms in your vet,o my legatees?How obscene and fine kettle of nemcon to thee obscure this golden nuggets for utter chaos?"O mortgaged posterity balloons the face in the blue sky,Is that why this patchwork so condescending calls thee a goon because it pillaged what smears with sears?O hone!what virtus would elope with the winds because they irretrievably,lost in memoirs?Take not your heirloom through the ragged cloud to elope,my beloved guttersnipes,O hone!what then would you have done when your patrimony by glory thrust upon them who love misty eyes?O hone thy aloft above the caisson and be profiteth greatly from the heirloom of your spirit to avert this fritter banks.

DARKEST HOURS - BRIGHTEST RAYS. PART TWO

And the brightest rays of this golden bough were lifted from the gathering clouds and darkest hours vanished,And saith he out of the ordinary"Golden bough's transit now silvermoon dantiest plucks!"To whom,the folks contrariwise barely objects"We clamour beyond St.blue Queer Street,and now this stolid earth,this blue sky beneath us"But then he says to the pinkiest,"who are you now?"Then this jejuned,oldfoggy oldmaid irrefutably and propitiously juxtaposed himself,"the sordid waves too behind me as we roll and roll for the mutation of the grandest dreams,blinking away darkest hours and bountiful showers avalanche,o brightest ray this stupendious allure,ages implore to decipher thee."

DARKEST HOURS - BRIGHTEST RAYS. PART ONE

Guttersnipes,street urchins who live the despondent hapless moths by the sloughs of the trough,call for a noose,a placebo and a thrust from the edge of the precipice, What a succour from being beaten blue all day and weary by the sun, "With no gazebo and no summerhouse appealing in sight to hide and ease this stress of distress,"a brokenhearted lamented"brightest rays might soon abscond forever from these darkest hours."We crave for silvermoon from this bickering strands of golden bough",Then i observed how come tarnishing troughs were tergivesated and mutated into golden trough.if not for proactive engross of the bald pate,sunken delights may have in this treacherous numb,downright infeasible without pragmatic foolproof of the golden bough's glacebo.This comics amidst a gathering,then the flocks enthused"But how shall we abscond the tarnishing trough without the gazebos of the golden bough.We in this bedevil,flex the last bout of the tarnishing bough to exit the treachery of this howling wilderness."

February 19, 2018

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS' DIARY-SONNET:103

To every glory not all able spirit can afford,Where victors in silence belch the more for silence boast of temperate beyond this obscurity, When your countenance lack'd matter that enfeebled myth,What farewell art thou too obsessed and disposessed of entitlement,The charter of adophobia gives thee a banished lent,an unrelenting servitude and with a brassy claws indeterminate,So thy silvermoon upon being a state misconstrued gavest its growth,On verdict transplanted on lugubrious earth,at pebbled shores,not fairly acquinted with double vantage,let alone a vantage and a vantage press,such is enticement and a briddle to which briddle,i briddle for long,Saith that thou didst forsake these golden verses in years to comn as to abhor them,And i will speak foul of thy vain trips and erosion of gallantry,over the beloved with no nomenclature whatsoever,And every chant hath its downwind extant humour,whereon it findeth an inquisition,above the gregarious summation for an evidence,But this metrics hardly easy findeth.

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS' DIARY-SONNET:102

To clues within thine euphoria of undying and nnwhack'd gusto,Were all cannibalistic cadavers and assymetrical noose,How much more karma's convened thy breach's penalty,If thou couldst brazenly muse' this golden petals of golden roses shall speedily sombre my gnash and arraigns silvermoon,Bewailing its asseverating otherwise by its beguile!This were to be betternoire when thou at thy branded apologia summons,And witness thy irascible perspiration,when thou by ignoble restraint of time fool'st groove at thybabblest cheeks beneath,Where unruly chins in their funnyhaha,hanker brawn,in it be bloodi'd,Findingthy retreat of ample resortwhere you did valliantly,And thereforedreadful art not pacify butmomentum aggression seeks anew,And do so not defying the strained torches when deus'd can unwind,In gross painting through braziered brawn,tender guile not unset,in this poetic brasstacks,inthose impairs doth impute being dumb,That eulogy be sopoured when epochal stones of goMaya Angeloulden roses so dignifies checkered antecedence.MAYA ANGELOU

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS' DIARY-SONNET:102

To clues within thine euphoria of undying and nnwhack'd gusto,Were all cannibalistic cadavers and assymetrical noose,How much more karma's convened thy breach's penalty,If thou couldst brazenly muse' this golden petals of golden roses shall speedily sombre my gnash and arraigns silvermoon,Bewailing its asseverating otherwise by its beguile!This were to be betternoire when thou at thy branded apologia summons,And witness thy irascible perspiration,when thou by ignoble restraint of time fool'st groove at thy babblest cheeks beneath,Where unruly chins in their funnyhaha,hanker brawn,in it be bloodi'd,Findingthy retreat of ample resortwhere you did valliantly,And therefore dreadful art not pacify butmomentum aggression seeks anew,And do so not defying the strained torches when deus'd can unwind,In gross painting through braziered brawn,tender guile not unset,in this poetic brasstacks,inthose impairs doth not being dumb,That eulogy be so poured when epochal stones of golden roses so dignifies checkered antecedence

Proffessor Abraham Sonnets' Diary- Sonnet-101

If from the fairest creatures we desire increase and heavenly moistures,shall we not also from the vilest creatures desire retrogression and hell?Still did we not desire hell awry spurn machiavell never to die,that thereby maledictive vices might never frolic die to play,But as the sheep at the abbattoir butcher'd his haggard frame might never vaunt this renminiscencs;but thou retribution to thine own hazy eyes,feedest now thy lilliputian but languid frame,with self esteem not leadean'd thy bough,making a blunt and a blandest ogre where the blandest amplitude lies'When all seasons shall beneath besiege thy clumsy steps,And wrestle limbo,trenchwarfare or a dunghill in thy plot,what limbo's gravity,in this field 's amplitude acrimoniuous acuity so sterned now,will be thy allegoried heels of thy piffled cloven hoofs confered,than being famished where all thy beggarly dotes,where all the billly os of thy brazen feet chok'd .