You’re Twenty Six Now

You’re twenty six now
single with beauty crown
_ still dark and lovely

Beauty of yours will soon wither
but who cares?

Who cares if you lose your youthfulness
in your thirties; who cares?

Who cares if your admirers decline to one
or none; who cares?

I care
the sooner the better you hook a guy
to marry

Smile and smile at many as you can see
and to him who smiles back at thee

Tell him
tell him that
the sun and moon rise in his eyes

Reach out
reach out to him
and whisper that
he’s worth following to the altar
and marry now
and marry now my lady or hence
Prince Asmodee will marry thee
in thy bed, on thy mattress
caressing thee in thy dreaming my lady

So, heed my advice!
I have to go now.
With sincere heart,
I wish you the best, my lesbo.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry

Germans Shedding Tears of Joy (winning 2014 world cup)

andre and babe

You, Germany National Football team!

You came,
you saw,
you conquered
and messiah Mario Gotze
made the effort worth

Manuel Neuer
I congratulate thee
on the 2014 World Cup Golden Glove

James Rodriguez
I congratulate thee
on the 2014 World Cup Golden Boot

Paul Pogba
I congratulate thee
on the 2014 World Cup Young Player Award

Lionel Messi
I congratulate thee
on the 2014 World Cup Golden Ball
where Zabaleta crawled on the field,
dirtied his jersey
but didn’t get it;
Schweinsteiger broke his jaw,
shed his blood
but didn’t get it;
Arjen Robben did play so well
and really deserved it
but didn’t get it;
You, Lionel Messi
found mercy in sight of God
and sight of men
and got it
when you didn’t even deserve it
for my mind told me

Ah! Angel Di Maria,
my favorite is what you are.
I wished the World Cup was right in your arms right now
that’s why
up till this hour I shed my tears in lonliness for you.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry


Are you not the same boy
who swings on guava tree?

Are you not the same boy
who swims the shallow stream?

Are you not the same boy
who rolls a tubeless tyre down the street?

Or the same boy
who loves to wrestle with friends,
playing hide and seek in dilapidated bakery,
singing loudly,
gambling with money on PlayStation2…
Are you not the same boy?

O Jesus! Reprimand le diable!
For Felix is still a boy of age 10

Everyone calls him Jumong
for acting it every now and then

But why?
Why have ye decided
to glue thy backside to thy sick bed
for over six weeks now_
you can’t even watch World Cup with thy friends?

Because the doctor said,
you suffering inflammatory liver;
I hope you will not die?

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry

And said, if thou wilt diligently hearken to the voice of the LORD thy God, and wilt do that which is right in his sight, and wilt give ear to his commandments, and keep all his statutes, I will put none of these diseases upon thee, which I have brought upon the Egyptians: for I am the LORD that healeth thee.(Exodus 15:26)

O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me (Psalms 30:2)

With the power of authority vested on me, I pronounce healing to every part of your body! Now GO and SIN NO MORE!

An Underground Poem (Written by Prof. Remi Raji)


Prof Remi Raji is a Nigerian poet. The winner of Association of West African Young Writers’ VOCA Award for Best First Published Book of the Year 1997. He’s also a Salzburg Fellow and visiting professor and writer to a number of institutions, among them Southern Illinois University at Edwardsville, the Universities of California at Riverside and Irvine, University of Cape Town, South Africa, and Cambridge University.
In 2005, he served as the Guest Writer to the City of Stockholm, Sweden.

An Underground Poem:

My body is a temple
Of angry music
Flames in my brain
Itching forms in my blood.

A maddening echo fills my soul
I’m the sole survivor in this hole
Where melodies are made
On platters of skulls.

Even in this hell-hole haven
Of my conscience, I laugh
At the colourful cowardice
Of chameleon and castrated dogs.

I speak of mortal sins above.

I speak against gods
Who refuse to burn or die
Or sink in their own flames.

No more the eunuch, anointed
in a film of fainting prophets.

No more the unwilling wheel
to priests of antic pranks.

No more your carrier of curses
on these wild windy days, no more.

I belong to no bacchanal
babel of Goddam gods;

No more dragons of pain
in the middle of an eclipse.

Against gods whose flesh refuse
to melt or dance
to fires of simple songs
all of me is a household of canine bravery.

Failing Forward (the free John Maxwell motivated)

Larry Page, Google

You heard of Larry Page
and Sergey Brin,
you ran
to host a domain

Score year now
no miracle
no congested trafficking
no triple digit
commissioning nor high ranking miracle;
you murmured
“This’ not cool, just laboring in vain.
What am I to do?”

Took a class in contenting
socialised on twitter,
you hyped your site
on instagram
telling friends on tumblr
building page on facebook,
youtube, badoo, bebo
with nothing to show.

Even you went seminars on SEO
and bought plug-ins
and bought webinars
on trafficking, adwords and
logo making
with nothing to show.

Oh fellow!
You do not know
you’re failing forward

You do not know
success comes in failure form

So, quit nagging.
Count your failures
name them one-by-one.
Count your failures
see what Lord has done

Count your failures
and name them one-by-one
and it will surprise you,
Success you’ve become.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry

Meuzic Is In My Mind

Meuzic is in my mind
and Usher Raymond and
Celine Dion and
Barry White I wanna sing
with my own Meuzic

For I’m a grown solitaire

I’ve grown alone
fed alone
shed the tears of my eyebrow
on the grounds alone

It’s time to fly into expansion.
If not it

What is life?
Life is husband and wife.

What is wife?
Wife is a tool for expanding life.

So where is my wife?
I’m ripe to fly into expansion now
and have my own Meuzic
singing hinnnn! hinnnn!! hinnnn!!!
With his or her tears
into my own hearing

Let no one tell me
how difficult it is to manage a wife

I already know:
The word “wildlife”
originated from the word “wife”.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry

Ozone Layer

What kind of car is this?
I do no know.
Except the locomotive ability
of this rickety thing

Hardly moving when moved

Driving the driver driving it,
I can see the driver sweating within it

Our nares and heads
are filled with carbon monoxide
this rickety car emitting
from its nostrils

And like smoke from the swinging thurible
used in a catholic cathedral

The emission is spreading everywhere

And melting the ozone layer
like fire melting a shea butter

Every rich and poor african wants to ride a car;
maybe rickety or rickety not they do not care

I blame you not my africans.
Why didnt GOD build the ozone layer
with iron rock and crystal
than making it fragile like a silky material?

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry