Oracle Book Club

I can sense the cold hands of death
Creeping up on me
Clouding the ground around me
Like walking on clouds
With uncertain steps
Towards that grey line
Slowly I walk my 8 mile.
To the cold embrace of death.

I don't want to imagine
Lying down in that final resting place.
The usual ones; a disgusting thought.
What would I wish for then..?
In the dense part of the forest
There I shall forever rest.

Di Oracle
Oracle Book Club

CALL IT WHAT YOU WiSH.
************************
Yes you birthed her
For the sake of morality you raised her
For the voice of responsibility
You cared for her
But do you even know her??

A heart of gold she has
Vulnerably pure..
So she tries to understand your emotions
Staying out late
She prays to the God behind the clouds
Or In it....
Wishing upon every shooting star
That when your eyes do meet
Your barely extended cheeks
Will form real smiles
That your hands will only wipe away her tears
Not cut open the layers of her scars
That your words will bring her peace
And not shred her to pieces
That you'll recognize her distress
And acknowledge her love for you

She wishes
Yes she prays
That you will understand that she is
Only but a child
Who tends to grow
Whose intention is to fly
But you keep clamping down her wings

She is strong
So be proud cuz you taught her to be
Her voice you took
Her esteem you crushed
Her confidence you battered
But her ego remained undefiled
Too many times you r***d her
Taking away the innocence in her expressions
The agility in her dreams
But for the purity of her heart
She still has the bearings of a cotton tree.

She will not complain
Because you taught her to persevere
Her tears she holds back gracefully
Cuz it's a crime to show any sign of weakness
Break down she is not allowed to
Her duty is to pick up the littl'uns
And that she does with utmost joy

In her quest for affection
Her mistakes are forming a defining pattern
As her walls get higher
She creeps into isolation
With images forming trends of considerable depression
All she can really say is *Thank You Lord*

.

I'd like to pretend you're on a vacation
Sunbathing on a beach with your happy smile
And your sense of fun...

But this is it
You never said I'm leaving
We were caught off guard
The shock of it makes our hearts stutter
We can't take it in, that you're gone..
If only tears could build a stairway..
If only we could have you back just for a little while...

You brought so much joy to every life you touched
Now your spirit has been set free
To be with our Father in glorious eternity..
But, a beautiful soul lives forever
Morning, noon and night
We will remember those special memories of you that will always make us smile
Content that your life was worthwhile..

Since you'll never be forgotten
We pledge a hollowed place in our hearts to you
There you'll forever stay.
Rest now Shirl✨❤️✨
Till we meet again🙏🏽

Moonlight (Mad)

On what would have been our 5th anniversary as a Book Club, we are sorry to announce that we have lost our dearest Zookeeper (President) Barrister Shirley Ajike Junette Taylor. May her soul Rest In light eternal.

HIS WALK TO THE GALLOWS
by The Spartan

sapienti

started with
sticks
fire
flint
pottery
and now
science

his desire to
use
follow
and be
nature
has led him into the
starry galaxies
the internet
technology and
even a substantial
glimpse into the intricate
workings of
molecular science

the home truth
he is smugly and
morbidly
encapsulated in the
present
but well isolated from the
future

he cries
"save the flora and forna"
but he may just be
the one who needs saving

the home truth
he is an endangered species
but even worse
that the cause of
his extinction could be
himself

global warming
terroism
antimicrobial resistance
all products
of his advanced
abilities and mind

his desire to
use
follow
and be
nature
has led him to the
threshold of destruction
his advanced abilities to
create and
design
could also be
his walk to the
gallows

what if
his 'lunantic mind'
designs a
virus or
bioweapon
that could
kill himself?

but even if
he survives that
can he contain
a computer-instigated
cyberdoom?

but who knows
could his
fiddling with
nature and
science
be
the death of him -
his walk to the
gallows?

This work is copyrighted
Oracle Book Club
May 2017

For a Death March

I have lived for one woman
So I must die for one thing
I’ll die for a death march

When the church choir marches
As the brass band plays
This song will touch my soul
My coffin will sway
I’ll be dancing to the death march
There is nothing that makes a Christian soul
More pleasant like does the death march
It is the hymn which purifies a dead man’s heart
The chorus of the angelic throng above
It is the surety of heaven’s welcome
The farewell song of earth

This wretched life has seen
The disgrace of a race
The mountain of troubles of a people
The hate and the grudges that set us behind
This wretched life has known
The hurts of betrayal, the pains of solitude
The dread of constant ignorance
The marching backwards of civilisation
The misconstruction of the essence of time
The profiteering and all evils of the capitalists

And all I want is to simply go and rest my weary bones
And all I want is to simply go to the tune of the death march

I remember the expression on the old man’s face. It was dense. He told his story in the most serious of manners I have ever seen, with the gravest voice I have ever heard. He said that there were many legends as to how the gentleman of Freetown came to being, but only one he felt could have been true. He said, it was an October of 1808, and the rains were at their wildest. The acting governor of the crown colony of Sierra Leone, Thomas Perronet Thompson sat on his bed in his room wanking. He spilt his s***m on the floor, and slept off immediately, not wiping off the thick substance from his already messy room floor. In the governor’s room, as the old man’s story went, were empty bottles and bottles of whiskey and gin and brandy and all manner of liquor, and crumpled up papers, and cigarette juts and ashes. House flies made berth in the room all day long. And so as Governor Thompson’s s***m thickened and began to dry up, with the flies ice skating on the starchy substance, a miracle happened. A foetus was formed.

The Gentleman of Freetown_2 https://afrikandude.wordpress.com/2020/03/02/the-gentleman-of-freetown_2/ via

The Gentleman of Freetown_2 I remember the expression on the old man’s face. It was dense. He told his story in the most serious of manners I have ever seen, with the gravest voice I have ever heard. He said that there were m…

https://afrikandude.wordpress.com/2020/02/14/the-gentleman-of-freetown/

You're guaranteed a good read in this first instalment to the series, 'The Gentleman of Freetown'. No Freetownian is as pure in heart as the gentleman of Freetown. Not even you.

The Gentleman of Freetown Nothing makes a buzz on the streets of Freetown like…well, like nothing. No one knows what Freetownians are about. All who say they know, make pretences. And Freetown is full of such pretenders, to…