JESUROBOOWIE GIFT IMAFIDON


JESUROBOOWIE GIFT IMAFIDON Poems

1. A Dance In The Moonlight 12/9/2009
2. This Is It-Tribute To The King Of Pop Michael Jackson 12/10/2009
3. Motion Of The Heart 12/14/2009
4. Silence Speaks So Softly 12/15/2009
5. Should I Tell The Priest? 12/16/2009
6. Devastated 12/29/2009
7. A Black Monday In A Black Bank 12/29/2009
8. Greenland(The Land Is Green) 1/4/2010
9. Colour Of Love 1/26/2010
10. Please, Colour Me Roses 1/26/2010
11. Faithful As Of Old 6/2/2010
12. My Heart Cries Out 6/2/2010
13. A Song Of Hope 6/2/2010
14. Rebirth 6/2/2010
15. My Pen Spills Blood 6/28/2010
16. When There Is No Money 11/12/2009
17. Death Called At My Prime 11/12/2009
18. Dead At Dawn 11/13/2009
19. Darkest Night 11/13/2009
20. Today Is A Good Day 11/16/2009
21. The Indomitable Youth 11/16/2009
22. Blue Is My Colour 7/1/2010
23. Battered And Bettered 7/5/2010
24. Yesterday 7/6/2010
25. Adara 7/12/2010
26. Unfaithful 8/17/2010
27. Beautiful Black 8/17/2010
28. My Brave Angel(Mba) 8/18/2010
29. Butterfly 8/23/2010
30. The Next Step Up 8/23/2010
31. Tribute To The God Of Creation 11/19/2009
32. The Harmattan 11/20/2009
33. Boundless 11/23/2009
34. Jewel In The Savannah 11/24/2009
35. You Are 6/29/2010
36. Full Moon 9/4/2010
37. More Than Words 9/27/2010
38. Paint Your Dreams 10/14/2010
39. The Unforgetable 10/25/2010
40. The Wind Of Change 12/4/2010

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Best Poem of JESUROBOOWIE GIFT IMAFIDON

Eko O Ni Baje-Tribute To The City Of Lagos

A beautiful landscape crisscrossed
With fascinating bodies of water
Naturally beautiful and densely populated
From various lands we have come
From different tribes, tongues and race
Our destiny is tied to the chord here
Yes, it is our Eko.

Home to all, hope to many
Blessed land of great opportunities
From Badagry to the breaches of the atlantics
The vast seas of human heads at Oshodi
To the farmlands in Ikorodu
And the fishermen's delight in Epe
Yes it is our Eko

The mainland and the island
Divided between the rich and the poor
Yet we ...

Read the full of Eko O Ni Baje-Tribute To The City Of Lagos

Death Called At My Prime

DEATH CALLED AT MY PRIME
The lonely path way smells like the graveyard
Quivering, I finally entered my thatch roofed hut
Not even a meal could go in as the noise of the spirits could clearly be heard
Neither could the hard mud bed stop my body ache

Sleep died years before, nightmares never let it lives
My flesh dried out, busting with feverish sweat
With sullen eyes I assess my being; life has failed my living being

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