Bliss resort

Blood like the rain... my sins down the drain. The pains on a cross; now there's no more loss. An innocent sacrifice. Beyond eternity, it'll suffice. The beauty of a death... perfection apparently well-spelt. A sweet sail of supremacy... the product of a conspiracy. Death armed with eternal life. Herod with a blunt knife. His resurrection, our hope. With that, we'll forever cope. The smooth stroll of salvation; paradise as a supreme consolation. A cross soiled with grace... nothing ridiculous stays. Death brought to her kneels. Heaven is the real deal! Lanre badmus March 2018

By Ola Vincent Omotade We had our eyes full of adultery, Claiming sin-free but  cannot totally cease from not committing sin. With our crazy altitudes, satan beguiles our unstable souls with unbelievable lies. Our hearts, had exercised with Corrupt practices, we generations of cursed ones. Despite all these lines defining us above, Never forget,that the fountain that gives us so much joy, came from so much sorrow, never forget that the fountain that gives us healing, came from so many wounds. Never forget that the fountain that cures us,  relieves us from heartaches,  that wipes away numerous tears, came from so much blood,  so much blood that was shed. Never forget that what you fellowship with in bread and in wine, in feasting and in love came not from wine but redness of blood,  bruises of many tears, crown of thorns. What is making us merry, making us shout today made someone cry out in anguish many years ago What is making us get healed now,  brought so many wo

By Akinlaja judah.. Make life d subject of formulae in d following equation. Life + love = Happy Life - love = sad ---------------------------------- 2life          = happy + sad -----------------------------------  Divide both side by 2 2life      = happy + sad --------         ---------------------    2                      2 So therefore *life* = 1/2 happy + 1/2 sad Lesson: in life the journey is not always smooth...events come that makes u enthusiastic while some makes u unhappy but understanding the concept of life makes u live a worry less life knowing fully when that life is full of ups and down...this is just the *circle of life*   *#penspeaks#*...✍🏾 C.E.O of penspeaks spoken word

                Photo credit :  Mercy James  Authors: Audrey Hepburn & Crystal Foy    There is a woman who always keeps her.                         head up high. Her eyes sparkle like a bright star in the.                                   sky.    She has the stamina, beauty, and courage.             that one would admire, Even the love and happiness one inspires.     She is a women that one can always                              count on,     And a woman that sees no wrong.     Her beauty shines from the inside out, It flows like a journey down a long route.    Her smile shines beautifully like the sun              rising over the horizon,    And her intelligence, wisdom, and hard.              work are not surprising.     She is a genuinely caring women     Who goes the extra mile to help one in             need or broken hearted,     And throughout all of her hard work,          No one ever sees her fall apart. The

By Akeem Lasisi They say I have no certificate As if you need the Cambridge magic To bamboozle your way to the hallowed space As if you need an Oxford’s ticket To bully your way to the national cake. I stayed in the varsity for so long I bagged an Elderstudentsmanship with a record break I rocked the campus like a mystery plague I got a bachelor of arts in a science course. They say I have no certificate But, online and offline, I rock customised Lamborghinis plus oversight jeeps Those who decorate their garages with doctoral crests Are writing my biography in a stunning haste I am the elephant with a single arm: I uproot a palm tree with super awe If the elephant had two arms It would bring the Pluto to its arrogant knees. They say I have no certificate As if a certificate is akpu and afang soup That makes the visitor to Ibom to tarry long As if a certificate is amala and gbegiri That makes Ibadan a dangerous place for a greedy mouth. When did a de

By Ola Vincent Omotade Salting the bowel of bowel of the earth, Through storm tossed sea of options. Humanitarians looking at our photo reproductions, Hopping in age increased with strengthened strength. So be wary, oh ye youthful climbers Expanding the mind of the word, like red petals of flowers Keep you white light bright, forget not your lofty mission or the dark anchors your vision Always remember, the paths you've crossed Younger generation will thread. Gather alot of convictions, and prosper your visions and dreams, all in the DAYS OF THY YOUTH

By Ola VincentOmotade What do you know about life? Today I visited eateries, And I realized life, is full of mysteries Life, the greatest of histories. Fragile like egg in nature Delicate and like hearts in bodies, Like a giver, life is ready to give Like a loser, life is ready to lose Ready to take away its happiness Ready to bring heaven's sweetness Its all about comfort, Its all about pains Life can be liking to bees It stings,that's bitterness It brings  honey that's happiness Change your view about life.

By Ola Vincent Omotade A river by the altar stone, where babies are burned to God. It's crying  and soaked with curdled rain of iniquity, distil water hammered it down its pissing off down to mud,becoming dirty fondled with ravaging lust, immorality and wickedness. So who is going to revive the altar? Who is going to born his man child as sacrifice? Altar drowned into darkness, Deepening into crest,  heavy dirtyness who is going to tell it to come up hither ? Believers need to groan with deep tears , And chant master, rabbi,  recipe our altars, Fill in us bullets, the scriptures, And let us get into the realities of your sculpture. Then we can grow into the ordination and the measure of he who came and fulfill, the we can be cracked in to his STRUCTURE

By Ola Vincent Omotade Oh I wanted to be binged and purged, cos I lost my sobriety and life to lust & alcohol. I could picture nakedness from modestly dressed lady, I see sexual harassment in covered body,  that's to tell you how lustful I was. I easily access pornography of cyberspace. All pornographic sites has my name registered in their respective databases. I could no more see the use of water (h20), It was a secret known to everyone, down at the G-bar we were always slugging beers, intoxicating our brains with harmful alcoholic chemicals. In fact I was a closet drunkard after all these lives, I so much demanded for a relief and a redress from all my addictive activities, I experienced dissatisfaction and hated myself, I resolved morally to becoming a free-man, you know what happened? Pains, Afflictions returned as I suffered my flesh with no food, no drinks and no sex, but my happiness came back as I return to his presence, that I temporarily lost seve

By Ola Vincent omotade So can you be my lover? Can you be the clergy's wife? Of course the groom will  marry many other wives, so don't  be jealous you ain't going to be my only wife. And my wives have their lives secured in him so all of you would be called  the clergy wives. He Married some, years ago, he married some few months back,  he married some a week ago,  he married some days ago,  he married some nights ago,  in fact he married some some seconds ago He so much admires the beauty of his wives and guess what?  they all love his personality. all the way through  the east he came, suffered and died for them. All they need as a wives is to submit to his authority. Though he is not with them physically, he built an altar in their hearts spiritually, where they can commune with him He supplies their needs according to riches in his glory, he quenches their thirsts, and help them in emotional wreck so what more do they need from their lover? All

By Ola Vincent Omotade Poverty has been extolled by poets, advised by philosophers and prescribed by saints..experiencially I am going to lend my voice to a poetry tagged "POVERTY" Yes he is poverty, in retrospect he is a wide oases of sadness in the desert of drudgery, a smile in the evil forest of riches where wealth cry on those who have them. He does not know what to do, he does not even know who to talk to, do you know even all social conditions are against him? He win less and lose more. he loses human dignity and self respect he borrows and begs, even he steals out of frustration, he is naked he has no clothings all day, he lives a life of wants. He wants food, just as you and I,  he wants clothes, he sees fair ladies, and admire them from afar,  he wants money and a ride with fancy cars. He wants to send his kids to good schools, so they. Can become somebody,  he wants them to grow up healthy and young, he wants shelter against the inclemencies of

By Ola Vincent Omotade It was Law! I felt seriously cold, with goose pimples all over me and I thought I hadn't used a blanket in reality. I pinched myself and I felt my sinking skin. Looking at my watch, it was all full of 9pm .It wasn't a dream! I was hurting, everywhere!For one nightmarish moment, I felt like my world was really crushing. The voice of my dad jarred me into reality! With him, it was a Yes! Final! No arguments! And there I was–helpless, throbbing.The tears....A crazy reality was intruding:How, where do I start? My dreams and all:crushed!  A course like U.R.P? Because I was studying Urban and regional planning, I felt like an extraterrestrial alien of myself; a misfit with two left feet, two left hands. And, although I aced the tests, had angelic friends, had a barrel of laughs....It wasn't me. Yes, I was dreaming!(wake me up, sharperly!) It was Law! I perceived it in the air and was always called, 'Doctor Ola Vincent

By Ola Vincent Omotade .... I have only one friend who immortalized himself in my adulthood memories, he his gone to a place more diviner in leisure and pleasure but his memories lives on. Many may forget their friends who did good deeds but James Damilo will forever be encrypted in the heart of songs..We will always sing an elergy to our fallen icon. Though we cried, our eyes smiled in tears, THOMAS JAMES DAMILO is gone, and will never return to this lustful world. So everyday to us is thirty centuries of stony sleep,always vexed to a nightmare by rocking candle of death that smears his memories away from our parting souls. His dear spirit mounted upon the hills, Million friends communed on his inexistence funny how you bade the world farewell and eternal silent patterns rippling crest after crests. Bloody eyes that the shady dark has shut, excellent life that the deadly death killed. I still remember how we planned that you would marry on September 11 and

By Ola Vincent Omotade. God who made us out of dust, In him, i'll put my trust Praises be to his holy name, His name is more precious than fame Words are often never enough to truly articulate God's awesomeness. Yeah right; we owe him more than a poetic verse for his blessedness. God is Good! Impeccable God, with impeccable manners He created the whole world, embellished it with beauty,  he is the greatest architect A master planner's plan hype without any pre-establish archetype "You are an Awesome You are A Wonder You're not an option You're all I desire... That's who You are

Lamb upon the throne; you're sacrifice-prone. You laid down your life and axed every strife. Publicly crucified and earth got purified. Blood-flow in gold; a perfection to behold. A love we can't fathom; it's of a priceless quantum. He punctured his pride so in eternity we can confide. To our earthly story, he added a vehement victory. Though we are sinners, he made us winners. The killer of death. Giver of eternal breath. You're the supreme law; you're devoid of every flaw. Lanre badmus may 2017

On you, I willingly wait; fastened with fervent faith. Heartbeat with great pace; God, I plead for grace. Though I've not seen your eyes; your scriptures will forever suffice. I longingly look unto you, through skies so blue. God of apparent answers; I wish for weighty wonders. The only supreme oracle; mount my life with a miracle. With your divine mouth; blow away every doubt. Please take away every trace; my soul perpetually prays. I look unto your cross, where my sins got tossed. Let my wait not be in vain. Come, take away my pain. Lanre badmus August 2017

With humility, I approach your altar without a reproach. May I never be removed from your throne starved of reprove. Perfect praise in perpetuity to a God armed with purity. At your feet I humbly fall... your name I'll continue to call. My heart raised to heaven; higher than the ravens. In awe, I boldly bow; my respect is a strong vow. Take me into your arms devoid of every harm. Worship whisk around my heart; creator of heaven and earth. At your bosom I'll tarry till the Pope decides to marry. The king of all kings; your praise I solemnly sing. Lanre badmus August 2017

A heart with stains... still, I approach your mountain. Cleanse me of my blemish; this is my prayerful wish The pursuit of purity. Heal me of every iniquity. I need to be candidly clean... righteousness is all that means. In humility, I'm broken; my pride, I've forsaken. I'm tired of the flesh... I need Holy spirit so fresh. upon this mountain I pray for holiness to come my way. Send my sins to oblivion and discountenance my opinion. A cross that spits blood; my heart, let it flood. In purity I wish to drown. Make me white like a bridal gown. Lanre badmus October 2017

 Jesus of Nazareth; a name with good health. The killer of death and the donor of breath. My love is so deep. In worship, I willingly weep. I feel your persistent presence... holiness with every vehemence. I praise your name; a name without blame. I'm in awe of your fame; fame that brings no shame. Creator of earth and space. Come and have your place. Lover of every ethnicity and race... crown my worship with grace. My heart hums a hymn with a celestial theme. A worship with perfect rhythm... my soul is a true pilgrim. Lanre badmus October 2017 picture courtesy of goodsalt.com

Friday is a flirt with a short skirt. Beauty boldly bare... a charm really rare. Sweet seduction... a tireless temptation. She's always special; immensely influential. A day so beautiful; attitude apparently lustful. Looks vividly reckless... enjoyment without a recess. There's something about Friday... vices will always have a say. Parties in persistent piles... life is always full of smiles. The creator of hangovers. A day for liquor lovers. The best day of the week... for others I wish to speak. Lanre badmus March 2018 Photography by Leke Adesuyi

By Akinlaja Judah ... A HOPELESS SITUATION The wall of Jericho was an obstacle to any army that was trying to overtake the city. Before even dealing with wall, the attacking troops will have to navigate their way across a 27ft wide, 9ft deep pit that line the outer edges of the city,  then is the wall itself 17ft high 54ft pure mass of solid stone. If an attacking army manage to get this far without being shot down by archers, all that was left was to defeat the well trained Canaanite Army that was waiting within. This was the reality for a young leader named Joshua and his Rag-tag Israelite army. This Israelite who it seems an entire generation live and die were wandering through the desert were tired hungry and facing what seems like an impossible task, an hopeless situation. Now i haven't lived very long but I've lived long enough to know these that running into walls is a part of life and the bigger the wall the more hopeless the situation can seem. A large wal

By Akinlaja Judah ______________________________ Do you know the song.... "Parents listen to your children, For we are the leaders of tomorrow, Try to pay our school fees, And give us, a sound education " I remember singing it heartily as a child. I so much savored the lyrics, Cos it gave me the impression That I have a part to play in my country's future. Only to grow and find the scripts has been switched. No longer leaders, but tools of politics. School has become a battle of the ignorant. And education, a mud to wallow in. Our Parents grew and took the future along, Leaving us to reminisce on yesterday, And battle with today. My green of youth is but a tale of whores. A politician once said...... "Youths are the future of the Nation" Another...... "Children are the future generations " Yet another..... "This hands can spill blood and remain just. The future is in our hands" what an irony! I cry for the

Promiscuity penetrates the polity. Decency is now an obvious nullity Caution has been candidly slain. Morality apparently feels the pain. Sanity slashed into slices; infidelity in attractive spices. Immorality is the order of the day. Decadence has finally come to stay. Conscience callously castrated. Rationality has been relegated. Impurity purges without regulation... madness receiving constant ovation. Greed grazes through the earth. Resurgence of insatiable hearts. A situation of great concern... a solution no one can discern. Decorum is desperately at large. Sexual sins now in charge. An approaching apocalypse... my poetic pen willingly weeps. Lanre badmus November 2017

Make my heart your place and all my sins I'll chase. Make my soul your throne... please do not postpone. Like veins long for blood, I need you in me to flood. I want you more than before. God, I can no longer endure. I want you forever close. Come maintain an intimate pose. Without you, I'm obviously empty. I become as useless as vanity. Like a leaking water keg, in tears I perpetually beg. Jesus do not leave my sight. You're  my moon when it's night. Friend of all sinners. I've prepared for you, dinner. A recipe for worship... the melody of heavenly angels. Lanre badmus December 2017

She reads with a smile... satisfaction beyond a while. She closes her eyes; emotions on the rise. She willingly reads again. My poems remain her gain. A secret Facebook lover... she's lost within my book's cover. She paints a picture... the beauty of a sculpture. She imagines my face. Lust can easily be traced. A victim of my talent. Infatuation that can't relent. She's lost in my lines... intoxication and a bottle of wine. She calls my phone. Shyness trails her tone. The cascade of confessions... seduction without a solution. Lanre badmus December 2017

By Lanre badmus (FOR BENUE STATE & KOGI STATE ) The multiplicity of massacres- metamorphosis of a carcass. Blood like the waterfall... agony apparently stands tall. Swords sick with greed- Covetousness of a special breed. The ground has become a glutton- her delicacy remains in the rotten. Brutality brewed with bitterness. Guns and bombs suffer from restlessness. Vengeance with eyes really blind. Conscience has been left behind. Nigeria is an open sore... the pains can only be more. I envisage a scary scar. Healing's domicile seems so far. Tears trail the national flag. The picture of a drenched rag. Our leaders on a killing spree... burial ceremonies are now for free. January 2018

By Lanre Badmus January 2018 If evil were good and courtesy were rude. If truth were false, would that affect your pulse? If heaven were earth, would it pain your heart? If facts were lies and fools were the wise. If rights were wrong, would you sing the same song. If days were nights and darkness were light... Questions without answers... the candid cure for cancer. I'm lost in my thoughts; my conscience has not been bought. If there were no religions, would you change your opinions? Questions for a mass burial... prepare for future memorials.

By Lanre badmus To the throne of grace, I have woven my ways. Immune against defeat- I am humble at your mercy-seat.  Redemption that can't stutter- I'll tirelessly tarry at Golgotha. Love in apparent abundance. Kindness maintains a solid stance. I'll persist in your presence- totally lost in your tenderness. A heart with more than a wish- may your favour forever flourish. You're a temple of compassion. I'm in awe of your sanctions. Please make my heart your home- in me, feel free to roam. Don't ever leave my sight- your path is persistently right. Willingly, I will weave my ways to your precious throne of grace. January 2018

By Lanre badmus The sun drops dead. Her grave, more of a bed. Your thought rudely rises- I'm an addict, you're my vices. A tantalising temptation- I'll catch without an hesitation. The persistence of pure pleasure- sweetness of a lasting leisure. The sun willingly wakes without apparent aches. Your picture still peeps- an eternal love, I've reaped. Dawn down to dusk, your absence always sulks. Your presence, always salient- whispers are never silent. The oceans of your thoughts... to float, I've never fought. Your love is my fate... calendars will always have dates. February 2018

By Lanre Badmus A flag utterly  downcast; pains of the present and past. The vulgar voice of sorrow... diligent disappearance of tomorrow. A mood in muddy waters. Survival consistently falters. A stare soaked in sadness... it's as obvious as baldness. A tired and helpless flag. The hopelessness of a rag. She hangs on the noose of anguish. She's left with a fatal wish. Despair with a healthy breath... the Nigerian flag still melts. The obituary of Hope. No wind, the flag cannot cope. Darkness drags with diligence. Light has lost her essence. Fear parades our political future. Beauty with a lost culture.

God of mystery. Changer of history. Worship as an habitat. Beauty of a million carat. Purity in high places; the whiteness of cherubim laces. Sole definition of holiness. Perfection laced with soulfulness. A supremacy worthy of salutation... the height of heavenly sanitation. The uniqueness of a name. Your glory cannot be tamed. God almighty... the excellence of a deity. A spirit indomitable... this is beyond a million fables. The two edged sword. The precedence of every word. Absolute owner of the universe... I owe you more than a poetic verse. Lanre badmus February 2018 photography by Leke Adesuyi.

*A dedication to every woman* Memories vehemently vivid... I can never be livid. An experience with colours; a rainbow on a tireless tour. An encounter of a lifetime. The beauty of Shakespeare's rhymes. Paradise in perfect piles... I'm still wearing that smile. The sweetness of a hurt. A sensuous and sensual sport. A passionate romantic torture... I felt a sensational puncture. Stars roamed my smiling eyes... an innocence that never dies. I will never forget you, even if black becomes blue. God created me a girl with enviable african curls. You magically made me a woman. Now, I'm an attraction to every man. Lanre badmus February 2018

By Lanre badmus Writing on a wall... a fact that cannot fall. If all smiles were real, tears wouldn't need to heal. Fake friends in heaps; dissatisfaction desperately deep. Lies live in their laughter. With them, doom is faster. A hurtful handshake that makes the heart quake. Poison behind a long kiss; the evaporation of bliss. They don't appear with horns but their hugs are made of thorns. Deceit armed with pure passion... sorrow of several rations. Bodies beneath beards... coverings that must be feared. Smiles simply not real; tears will need to heal. March 2018

                  Photo credit: George osodi By Aaron .O. Abbah Weaved in her tapestry, her essence, Is a uniqueness radiating beauty and ingenuity. Her versatility soaked fabric, her identity; An unfanthomable awesomeness. Her earth a glorious richness, her people faultlessly beautiful. Her Character transmogrifying in positivity, this metamorphosis by the power of a LIFE higher than this. Her history of colonization and slavery, Enshrined a SEED which illumined her darkened estate. She resolves to recapture her indigenousness, This self awareness brightens her countenance; an intelligent people, a wise nation. The intense scorch of the smiling February's Sun, the fragrance of the earth from the years first rain, in April. A glorious moment!! The gentle rustle of dried leaves effective of the cozy harmattan breeze; Shaping her vegetation, her topography, her geography. Her ancestry, an inexplicable wonder; Heritage, Culture, Value and Virtue. Her girls

Photo credit: Atteh seyi By Ola Vincent Omotade Where I come from our women have pride,  We have pretty girls who do shakara. Where I come from our women have taste, We have intelligent women, So you can't toy with their virginity's. Where I come from our ladies are Queen's So they go all around and make yanga. Where I come from beauty is not scarce we have many beautiful soul, Originality is the watchword so Our women are the true definition of beauty. We wine our beaded waist graciously Like curvy girls doing YOGA Where i come from our women can smile, Because they've all gotten a medicinal one. They are music to us like the Nubians once danced. In grandly acrobatics, amidst the carcass of fire and mist. And for them, we have swallowed such devotion like praying priests gazing at crucifixes. That in the healing of pain, we might be cured of emptiness just by their smiles. The smile that melts the greatest warrior's heart.

photo credits: Debbie By Ola Vincent Omotade Full of beauty and grace  Rare black Queen sitting high on your throne No one can take your place Your heart is full of pure gold Never to be played with b ought or sold Your Love is Patient Your Love is kind Always trying to bring joy to others even when you can’t do it for yourself And keeping them close in mind A good woman is what you are A woman to whom is proud of who she is and what she stands for Never seeking definition from whom she is with A strong woman is what I see when I look at you One who can pick up the small pieces of her broken heart And carry on as if she was never hurt in the first place. When talking about this woman I can’t help but smile Knowing the woman I speak of stays between best and best when we talk about womanhood.

By: Raymond Ajeigbe Okun people are Yoruba descendants in Kogi state. Kogi is a multi ethnic state and Okun people are up to 20% of Kogi's population, smaller than the other two major completely different tribes, Igala and Ebira. Okun people spread across six local government areas in Kogi State, known as Kabba-Bunu, Yagba-West, Yagba-East, Mopa-Muro, Ìjùmú and Lokoja local government Areas. They speak varied dialects…Owé, Ìyàgbà, Ìjùmú, Bùnú and Oworo, but their language is generally called Okun, Okun has become a form of greeting among them. They understand one another to a greater extent and large numbers of them speak Yoruba. Their dialects are influenced by various factors. Such factor is that Kogi state shares boundaries with Kwara, Ondo, Ekiti, Niger, Benue, Nassarawa, Anambra, Enugu, Edo and Abuja. Also, The Nupe wars of the 19th century and interaction with the Hausas due to geographical zoning left an indelible mark on the Okun people and their dialects. Accor

By Ola Vincent Omotade (True-life story) I am here to speak of God's faithfulness  And I hope that in hearing this, you get blessed  When it started, I couldn't tell where I was How long I have or when I got there All I knew was pain, I felt an enormous pain all over my body but for my feet. I noticed my plastered face, a connected drip and several bandages. A polite nurse noticed me and called out to a doctor. At his arrival, the young doctor said to me _"You're at the ABU ZARIA TEACHING HOSPITAL,_ _And its because you had an accident,_ _You've been unconscious for sometime,_ _Pls take care to rest"_ I tried to question him but couldn't find the right words to do so Eventually I stopped trying to do so But when I laid back, I was in tears When he came back later that day,  He explained how my accident was fatal, The surgery I had to undergo And the possibility of me being on that bed for y