Akachukwu Lekwauwa

Akachukwu Lekwauwa Poems

If I wait by the well of water,
Then I could stand till the end of time.
For we are passed the age
When maidens go out at evening time to draw water,

With my poem,
I will use the sound and rhythm of words.

With my song,

Aye! Dad, what stuff are you made of?
Are you silver-plated?
The image is still shiny.

My poetry armory has been tampered with.
Poem is set to go off.

She has pulled the strings in my heart.

Bitter cold on one side,
The joy on the other kept blood
From freezing in our veins.

When I smile, it's all for you.
The laugh that I laugh,
The cry that I cry;

This shadow, my dwelling place,
Shapes and equips me
As a sword in its scabbard,
An arrow in the quiver;

you saw a sheep in the field,
she was grazing and
you loved the sight,
you were told she is a herbivore,

Were today not my birthday,
It would've been a bad day;
The good of it, nobody should bar me
Glorious summer in Washington,

Like a deer listening to the wind,
The waiting have struck me still,
Your cry alone will do the magic.

She was a gift of nature,
Until the ills of nurture,
Got her rotten.

What must a child do?
Flog my metric sins,
Or mete out to my forgetfulness.
But a million thanks,

In the days of challenges,
Help me Your victories to see.
The storm cannot stop His track.
When darkness seems to hide His face,

As ugly as they could get
Flying on their ill-wings about the air,
Perching on high and low trees,
Robbing my domain of her serenity.

I am still,
The one who looks at the caterpillar
And see a finished butterfly.
I am a scientist,

I seek no fame
No name beyond one I already have.
I seek no laurels
No honour beyond that I deserve;

My thoughts are always noble,
But never so noble as when
I am thinking about you.

If your smile catches upon my face
As the sun upon the rivers
Be assured it will glitter;
If I see your lips again

whenever and wherever,
her appearance glows my spirit
love must be as gentle as herself
like her, giving light

As I walked down the street
Right to the point where
The work of nature mingled
With the desire of man

The Best Poem Of Akachukwu Lekwauwa

The Empress Of My Heart

If I wait by the well of water,
Then I could stand till the end of time.
For we are passed the age
When maidens go out at evening time to draw water,
But I am persuaded by the new millennium,
Rendezvous at big-trendy-crunchy places
With the loft of Kilimanjaro.

Surely, she abhors her man riding on a camel
He is wanted inside the cushion of modern exotics
Her high and pitcherless shoulder
Nothing to lay down to quench my thirsty soul
Yet, her name is Rebecca.
Obscurely I might empty my treasure into her bare hands.

Once a nervous man,
Afraid of trusting himself to the seduction of the moment,
Ashamed of putting forward his pretentions
To an intimacy with the other,
Yesterday is gone.
Only today and forever remains for us,
And to be a coward is no way to success
Neither in poetry, in war nor in love!

In a clime where maidens adorn breastplate,
Requiring the hardest and heaviest hammering to stir,
The blows do not hurt the iron
Instead, the one hammering,
For love it seems a barren time.

In awe I observe her frame,
For she goes bare-breasted,
Unfazed by the quick eyes and quick tongues
Of seeing and roving men,
Not fearing the dart of Adam or Smith.
Exquisitely, exuding warmth and beauty
From her large heart,
To the soothing of the pedantic companion,
And the polished acquaintance,
To the admiration of public view,
And to the shame of Vashti.

So I aim with no air of precaution,
For I am a metrical experimenter,
With fewer blemishes,
Not fearing being caught in a shower of rain.
And in case of any untoward accident,
Not fearing if I be able
To make good my retreat home.

I've flexed a laudable and healthy supremacy
Over my fevered mind,
Not yet could the boldest of mind,
In its toughest hour of manly fortitude,
Endure to be domesticated with such a feeling.
I hereby unbutton my bosom,
For hereafter a new epoch of my life begins.
Perhaps a human signification,
One not unnatural result
Or accompaniment of such an encounter.

Could I ever think of her or see her without trembling?
When she calls out to me
With peculiar tenderness,
Wave-notes of love fall on my ear.
She shakes hands with beauty,
Wearing a pair of fashionable chic,
Live-long, emitting seraphic smiles,
Simplicity remains her ultimate sophistication.

A flicker of hope in need of an angelic nursing,
Will you cup hands of love around them,
As you would around a candle in the wind?
Will you infuse the warmth of your heart,
Into the embers of my soul?

Akachukwu Lekwauwa Comments

Akachukwu Lekwauwa Quotes

Only he who receives knocks and yet stays up is crowned champion.

A beautiful feeling repressed is like Maya's caged bird, uselessly beating her wings because she cannot fly.

A poet is the man who is quick to look and recognize the praiseworthy aspect of life.

Be careful not to mistake a high-flying vulture for an eagle

if you kill the goose that layed the golden egg, you might end up with the egg of the black goat

Akachukwu Lekwauwa Popularity

Akachukwu Lekwauwa Popularity

Error Success