PENMIND MEDIA & CREATIVITY

To those who are lost Help them find their way To those who are weak Help them with your strength To those who are bereaved Offer them some relief To those who are conceived Give them the support they need To those who have lost hope Give them something to look forward to To those with no homes Offer them an abode   

At Fifty and Five, there you are flirting around with Teens like a dog, who knows not his offspring when it comes to satisfying her animalistic nature. At Fifty and Five there you are sprawling your Penis in Teens’ Scrotum like a beheaded snake whose body has no peace with its being. At Fifty and Five there you are flicking fingers in Teens’ FORMS like a sparrow, spawning with spade whose song the society sings. At Fifty and Five there you are turning your office to a brothel with plumped Bevies capable of daughtering your Being, At Fifty and Five there you are counting first five flirt in a week like an Idiotic Hen counting its eggs before they are hatched. At Fifty and Five there you are still in your Teen’s gene flocking shamelessly with under Twenties forgetting your almost “time-out” curiosity in women’s lap. At Fifty and Five there you are teasing your flimsy limp with Teens without thinking about Age that clocked responsibility

Enjoy the moment when it’s still on For good memories I know, do endear the heart And a time well spent never leaves the mind Enjoy it to the fullest when it’s still yours ‘cos in the twinkle of  an eye it may be gone And  it’s impossible to regain once a moment is lost Oh yea!! I remember when you were born I took on every  moment to be your number one ‘cos every second with you was similar to none Three point two seven pounds was what you weighed You smiled as though you already knew I was there Waiting patiently for you to come to the world Your mother was still hurting but held you to close her heart Flashing back and trying hard to hold back the tears No doubt it was that moment that captures it all So, cherish the moment when it’s still on Knowing that good memories do endear the heart And a time well spent never leaves the mind

The Oluwo of Iwo, Oba Rasheed Adewale today traced his origin to Owodo Royal Family in Ile-Ife in Osun state and claimed to be an heir of the first female Ooni in Ife who hailed from  Owodo Royal Family. He said that there is affinity between the royal family in Ile-Ife and the Iwo land.    Oluwo said this in Ile-Ife during his visit to Owodo Royal Family to confirm his royal lineage in, adding that the purpose was to strengthen the unity between Ife and Iwo land. He said that the Owodo also has the right to become Ooni of Ife, saying that it had been traced in the history that many past Ooni came from the family. The King told our correspondent that the focus of his visit was to makenexus between the royal families in Ife and Iwo to strengthen the unity existing between him and the Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Enitan Ogunwusi, Ojaja II. Addressing press men Chief Sooko Owodo of Ife said that Odudua was able to become the first Ooni Ife  because he united the peop

The Oluwo of Iwo, Oba Rasheed Adewale today traced his origin to Owodo Royal Family in Ile-Ife in Osun state and claimed to be an heir of the first female Ooni in Ife who hailed from  Owodo Royal Family. He said that there is affinity between the royal family in Ile-Ife and the Iwo land.    Oluwo said this in Ile-Ife during his visit to Owodo Royal Family to confirm his royal lineage in, adding that the purpose was to strengthen the unity between Ife and Iwo land. He said that the Owodo also has the right to become Ooni of Ife, saying that it had been traced in the history that many past Ooni came from the family. The King told our correspondent that the focus of his visit was to makenexus between the royal families in Ife and Iwo to strengthen the unity existing between him and the Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Enitan Ogunwusi, Ojaja II. Addressing press men Chief Sooko Owodo of Ife said that Odudua was able to become the first Ooni Ife  because he united the peop

When the day wears its knickers of dusk, I can walk without leg I can talk without tongue I can drink without throat             Just throw me bowls of wine             The one, right from the forest              Of dying stream But who needs streams to sanctify Satan to be a saint? I can swim in the sea of bear             Just throw me sixty ounces:             ale, lager, whiskey, gin             My belly can drown India Ocean But a lush needs no counsel to be drunk Give me Everest of meat, There are free rides to my mouth, The tarmac of my tongue is laced slippery coal tar To transport morsels One just refined from the Island wild Of pounded yam, Forget not the toothpick To dredge the banks of my mouth But chicken befriends not, the meat consumers I need a nymphet dame, One that can play the tune of scrotum, While the whistle blows, Under the blanket of the night, Her ball must roll in the court till dawn, We must burn the chuckles’ candles

Street gave me life, In ghetto was I brought up. But fixed are my eyes Heading to dwell in Land is Banana Where wealthy hearts beat with joy. I strive from the grass To climb and stay at the apex of that palm tree, While some innocent minds found themselves dining on the tree. But I count our differences nothing To be inspired to forge ahead. I will declare the existence of possibility In impossible cases, To make it known to the world How impossibility never existed, But created personally From the factory of the mind. I stand gallantly to declare war On Nature the governor! Who giveth not what one desires. But rather hold rocket Against ones desire Until one stand to snatch the desire. I declare war to Her No matter the bomb she throws I will stand with my fearless mind And my powerful hands To snatch that very thing I desire, And construct my dream.

We are like a malnourished tree   Being left to die   Our seeds are continually harvested   But our strength is never replenished    We are a big part of the African continent   Burden with loads of debts and bad policies Our people are painfully thirsty,     left with nothing to quench their thirst   These people are painfully hungry   deserted with almost nothing to eat   We are not asking for too much   But this one chance to be heard   that like a malnourished tree   We should not be left to die.     

Truth the great!   Divine messenger of freedom   Sent to hook the oppressors   To free the oppressed. Divine messenger of freedom   Dwelling in the heart of men   To free the oppressed,   With a burning tongue of courage Dwelling in the heart of men,   An arch enemy of lies.   With a burning tongue of courage, Truth wages war against lies. An arch enemy of lies   Standing gallantly against her offspring.   Truth wages war against lies,   Even as they try to expel her. Standing gallantly against her offspring   With  a tongue of courage   Even as they try to expel her,   Truth stands immortal. With a tongue of courage   Can truth be made known.   Truth stands immortal, Death has no power over her. Can truth be made known   In the dungeon of fear?   Death has no power over her,   For she is a taboo to hades. In the dungeon of fear   Many deny her.   For she's a taboo to hades,   She reigns forever. Many deny her   Considering their bellies.

An African drummer tells an unforgettable tale His beats resonate happiness, Pain & heartbreak   With melodies entertaining the young and the pale He pours his heart out through the sound that he makes One moment it's loud,  and then it starts to fade His message so real and occasionally  laced with rage The drum, the beat it creates and the emotions it  communicates Is a strong reminder of who we are and how we interrelate. How we understand 'love', in its many forms and shades And how we express it without leaving out its enduring message.

Sere nd i p i to u s s p ee c h es d r o p Ra m bun c ti o us l y as t h u n d er A n d e m b ers o f s p a r k l i n g l i g h t e n in g T e s t i fy to t h e i r effe c t s . A h , y o u know n o t t ig er s ! W h en the a n c i e n t s ow er D e p o s i t e d d e sp o t i c se e d s I n t o t h e w o m b of th e ear t h , T h e i n n o c e n t ea r t h g e n e r o us l y W a t ered a n d s o f t e n t h em – Fr o m her k i n d s u rfa c e, th ey s p r o u t h e a ds ! H ere c o m es t h e r e i g n of t y ra n t s ! L ik e f e r o c i o u s ca r n i v o r e s w h os e C l a w s i n e x t r i c a bl y p e n e t ra t e T h e n e c k s of p re y , T h e i r r e d d is h e y es fl a m e A h , y o u know n o t t ig er s ! A pride o f d ae m o n i s l oo s e n ed u po n t h e ea r t h T o u nl e a s h a n d sl a v i s h te r r o r U p o n h e r i n h a b i t a n t s ! A h , y o u kn

Wole Soyinka is a study in exceptionalism. His exceptionalism as Nigeria/Africa’s Nobel laureate is only equaled by a few Nigerians. Emeka Anyaoku, for instance as Commonwealth Secretary-General, the late Chinua Achebe, his fellow writer as the most read African novelist. Soyinka is also known globally for his writings and political activism. However, his literary practice has always come under intense interrogation by the critical establishment especially the formation that identifies the lack of a clear, unambiguous political dimension to his oeuvre. In its discursive elaborations, this critical collective accuses the Nobelist of investing enormous agency and epistemological capital in the lone, individual figure who imposes on himself the exclusive preserve of galvanizing society in the kinesis of history. Inevitably, the mass of the collectivity and their communal aspirations and energies for the revolutionary transformation of the patterns of social and cultural production

I feel the blowing of your exhilarating wind From the distance of our separation. I see your flesh strongly encompassing with the inner musical grace. I hear your underneath wave of overflowing pure pleasure as its tore your heart apart. For thy blood,bones and flesh That visited the cosmos On this almanac feature. Oh welcome the new age The mirrow of aging. Of all the drummers My welcome drum is the best that could make you lively as long you follow the rhythms. Fear no more the fire of life For the fire is the narrow path of success. Trend softly;the cosmos is full of embers. Learn to shun and choose For, trying to please all is alacritous damnation Beware of the choosy ones For envious weed is effortlessly aroused Pairing with God The antidote of the cobra hearts Hiding with flowering faces Remember the cosmos welcomes you with mirth Which you with melancholia Live to reverse the case with your last breath Your creator shall have no option but to bless your

Sometimes, challenges one faces in the course of writing might be little compared with target of the market. There is a difference between writing books and selling it. If one doesn't get the right path to the heart of the business, one's book might remain living in trash of the history. To upcoming writers, read how This Self-Published Author Sold 10,000 Books with Almost No Money and Zero Connections. Click on the link to know              https://www.entrepreneur.com/article/279385

Put the pen to paper and right the wrongs Write the wrongs to make them right Be a Wright of right we crave Stand to write Until the wrong is right With your voice make the rite to right the wrong stand in gap till right stands even when right appears wrong Right seems dead with the ink in your pen revive her revive the life in her Be Wright to get right on the right track. BY: WINLADE ISREA L

T h e m o o n of d awn m onitors T h e v o yage of trave ll ers F r om t h e N o r th to th e S o u t h , F r om t h e W e st to th e East Al o n g t h e l a tit u d in a l a n d l o n git ud in a l Li n es of g e o -g r a ph i c al c al cu lation Wit h in t h e w i nd s, b et ween spa c es, And up on c r o oked r o a d s on T h e b al d ish c rani u m of t h e eart h . Ah, m y ey e s are str o n gly f i xed U p on t h e spa n s of your ste p s J u st as th e t e n ts o f earth are c onsta n tly P it ch ed u p on t h e p il l ars of water. N o w, like an allergic gar d e n er, B id m e away – a m ephitic H e -goat, p o l lu t ing t h e n ouri s hm e n t O f f r esh air in your p leasa n t p ast u r e . B u t, l o ok, I shall sta n d d a u n tl e ss h ere like Mo s es’ r od b ef o re t h e I s r aelit e s at t h e red sea. F r o wn at m e as th e d ra c onian d r o u g