Pius beeps Adamu
Biography of Pius beeps Adamu
Pius beeps Adamu was born in Kafanchan, a local town in Kaduna state. He is currently an undergraduate at the prestigious Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, where he studies Language Arts. His influences are Ralph Waldo Emerson and Leopold Sedar Senghor. He has studied a lot of Shakespeare.. His siblings are Smith, Ben, Kumim, Ralph. He is the child of Late. Mr. Matthew David Adamu and Mrs. Mary Agnes Adamu.
Pius beeps Adamu Poems
Dedicated To Late Mr. Matthew Adamu
Peace I wish thee o sailor on the peaceful sea! Peace I wish thee! with a departing hymn I refrain. Sad I remain in the sorrowful memory of thee. Heavens, bear my burden of this excruciating pain..
Aloud aminu weeps at the death of his mother. No money to pay for her hospital bills. He weeps for another huge problem which is: Money for a decent burial.
To A Dead Lad.
The Poor lad who sleeps here has erred. To humanity and to the master yonder. He has erred and has fully declared. Now here beside his grave we sit and wonder.
Woman, your name is divine and sweetening.. Lest why do we call your name with reverence. You are beautiful, far beautiful than the gardens Evergreen in the width of obvious noons.
I am black in flesh and bones. I'm a replica of the supreme up above. He whose footstool is the Kilimanjaro. I am black in my songs and in the rhythm of my music.
Be My Heroine O Africa
Be my heroine O Africa! Sitting in the dark shining hut, I call on you. Africa, with a certain hope and power.
Where Is The Truth?
Sing to me a song to tarry. A song that will soothe any clime. Sing to me and make merry. For the truth knows no bounds nor dime.
Soft lady, purest of all waters. Sweetly I think of you in my duties. For you are all that matters. You are the pinnacle of all beauties.
On the highway in which we tread. Are men who are being swindled. The walls are littered with faces. Sanctimonious they seem..
Let It Be Written
Let it be written... My heart is full of an unusual gladness. I think I will dance like a wasp round the light..
The Day Is Over.
The day is over, over the high mountains the sun has fallen. The day is lost like a gold coin in the sands buried and forgotten. The match of the day is over and like players we must retire. Awaiting the unknown road we shall tomorrow tread..
My mother my heroic mother. Blessèd is the womb that bore you. For the ancestral blessings you still possess. I stayed in you for a thousand days,
Woman, raven of the tropics. You are lovely, and I sing to you this song, With sadness missing the warmth of your arms. I have waited in the dark night.
Yet We Forget.
We see the sun glow like a golden orb. Till it relinquishes its power to the moon. Yet we forget the struggles of life. We hear the birds singing on the boughs.
My mother my heroic mother.
Blessèd is the womb that bore you.
For the ancestral blessings you still possess.
I stayed in you for a thousand days,
With a timid soul sensing your worth.
You contemplated either to líve or die.
With the richness of patience you waited.
Leaving everything to the arms of fate.
From a toddler to the man I have become.