Poems by John Onyido |
BACK TO TOP Poems of Soul.com Copyright 2002 |
ABOUT JOHN ONYIDO AND HIS POEMS John Onyido is a Nigerian prolific writer whose materials have been published in several media outlets. His writings are filled with spices of his African (Nigerian) culture which is very easily noticeable particularly in his poems. in his words, "I attempt to suggest to the readers a different perspective to life that might not altogether be conventional, with the aim, hopefully, of engendering a deeper enquiry into a meaningful life in which we all live as one humanity under our creator, with higher more progressive ideals." In due course, we will provide you with more information on Mr. John Onyido.More of his works with our group of websites, can be found at www.Expressionsofsoul.com |
POEMS BY JOHN ONYIDO |
POEMS OF SOUL |
ABOUT JOHN ONYIDO AND HIS POEMS John Onyido is a Nigerian prolific writer whose materials have been published in several media outlets. His writings are filled with spices of his African (Nigerian) culture which is very easily noticeable particularly in his poems. in his words, "I attempt to suggest to the readers a different perspective to life that might not altogether be conventional, with the aim, hopefully, of engendering a deeper enquiry into a meaningful life in which we all live as one humanity under our creator, with higher more progressive ideals." In due course, we will provide you with more information on Mr. John Onyido.More of his works with our group of websites, can be found at www.Expressionsofsoul.com |
BACK TO TOP Poems of Soul.com Copyright 2002 |
THE FINAL FRONTIER In search of the last frontier man Has craved for as long as life has been. Moving further out still but none seen Except pointers to man the seeker. In frenzied desperation he peers Into the endless galactic space In search of a specter of life or trace. But only pointers to man the seeker. Into the bottomless oceans he ventures. Encountering saline soaked extrusions Oblivious to his diverse intrusions. Again pointers back to man the seeker. In utter exhaustion man whimpers. And where's the darn elixir of life? The philosopher's stone sought with strife. And pointers back to man the seeker. Oh, if only man would care to look Within for a glimpse of the Holy Grail. In man concealed with wreaths of Braille For man is fearfully but wonderfully made. |
THE MARKET DAYS Our fathers knew of four market days That intricately wove round their lives. Days solemn tasks were performed. Days ascribed to gods and ancestors, Whose munificence were sought, Their wrath serpiginously appeased. Our fathers knew of four market days Serpentinely clutching the festivals And ceremonies of the serried clan. Days mothers trudged to village squares Clasping hand-made wares for a cowry Shell or two; days of splendor when Children sired by few belonged to all. Our fathers knew of four market days Around which moonlight tales were told. Children scurried round elders to hear Of the tortoise and the hare and brave Deeds long past, gazing into the central Fire smoldering the cool evening breeze.. |
Poems by John Onyido |
