Thoughts

Discourse #2

 

Discourse # 2

                    We are lost, children of gods, children of sins. Searching for answers in a text book of mistakes and that of failure, a world gone mad. We close ourselves off to the world outside, Strangers pass like cars on the highway. Never willing to accept an idea or thought that might jeopardize their own reality, their own paradigm. The rich and the poor alike will lay eyes to the ivory towers of desolation. Marching head on into the void of oblivion. Oh child of greed, victim to the tides of mortal desires, prey to the self righteous, blood meal for their morbid devices. We are the living, the breathing testimonies to the Angels and the demons that spawn the myths and the legends.

                   We truly are the children of gods, the power we posses yet cannot obtain. For it lies right before our vary eyes like a magicians trick it vanishes under the cloak of illusion. We each hold a piece, like a key to the lock that binds us in ignorance. 'An intelligent being is not what we are but rather defines us as who we are

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Discourse #1

 

Discourse # 1

                We flow ever more closer to our own destruction, riding the wave that is our own undoing. We rape, and murder. Pillaging our way ahead, our empire in ash, roads in ruin as we march forward. Children of chaos, children of the Apocalypse watching it unfold before their eyes through a shiny box, no longer recognizing their own reflections. Deliver the final blow, cripple their reserves and then when they least expect it demolish any hope to flee, to escape. To secure victory, sacrifice decency all in the name of glory, under the ruse of safety. There shall be no freedom to be had, only iron and chains. Shackles that will be sought. Then when the fog of confusion settles and the blood on the field dries, the silent cries will be heard. Echoing the pain across the lifeless wastes.

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Memories

Folder: 
Volume One


 

 

 

~~)(~~

Memories”

 

You left with one goodbye

eye's full of tears about to cry

Lets hold on give it one last try

'the sky seems so high'

but at least were on the ground

No matter how hard I fought

No matter how hard I sought

the words I tried to say, were the words I thought

I would listen, Just to hear you speak

I would look, Just to see you care

but its all over now, just a memory

In my battered head of confusion

I once thought it was my mission

to make you happy, in the darkness, in the night

the smallest light, gives me sight

nothing seems to last

cause everything is in the past

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(Updated; From Psycho- Confessions)

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Sickness

Folder: 
Volume One


 

  

 

~~)(~~

Sickness”

 

It's a disease, a fucking sickness

Not even on your knees will I grant you forgiveness

Died before I was even born,

Everything comes at a price

So tonight I will be your Anti-Christ

Tired of a life I never wanted

Can't sleep because I'm always haunted

A nightmare of the past, were I'm always sad

of a youth I never even had

 

It's a sickness, A fucking disease

I'm already dead, nailed to your cross

It's a war I already Lost

We are all born just to die

given a hope; that is nothing more than a lie

of a God that doesn't exist

or at least one that doesn't persist

in the end were just a number on death's little list

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(Updated; From Psycho- Confessions)

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Epitaph

Written in a Geneva:

Switzerland Churchyard  

 

Ugonna Wachuku

 

A dirge and epilogue is sung for me
on your fleeing island of uninterested
unavailability. The owl hoots no more
on moonlit nights of home.  

 

Biblical Zacchaeus and Matthew: Oh!
Little me: "pass me not O gentle
Saviour..." Green pastures abound.
My peace unbound. Your island is
so real. The bridge stands no more
on humane pathway to landscapes. Kai!
Your island is so real, daughter of
the Almighty Creator.

 

Pathway to landscapes: The eagle I am
must soar this new day to welcoming
mountain-tops to view, one last time,
your pathway to landscapes.

 

At the stroke of midnight, this blessed
new day, I will depart your island of
unavailability; and sail for the high
seas. My smiling ship is created. The
wind from others beckons. Pines of home
whistle. The rainbow awaits. My simple
ship is set to sail; and I must bid you
farewell in God's care. I invite thee
no more on earthly footpaths. Oh!
Epitaph! This Epitaph! Would that
I wrote thee not; or perhaps
forgotten my lines on this
strange stage through life.

 

Heaven's gardens: Remember, when we
finally meet there, I am  the bald
Eagle that tarried for years on your
unfeeling island of unavailability :-
made whole with heavenly bounties in
His soul saving bossom.

 

AH! Epitaph! This farewell! This glad
dirge sung for me! This epilogue! Oh!
Little me. The owl hoots no more on
moonlit nights of home because this
glad dirge is sung. This emerald
epitaph all for you to set me freeee!
Heaven's gardens and meadow sea
shores. I set sail at midnight
under
heaven's
loving
eyes
and
hope
u
n
c
h
a
i
n
e
d
!
!
!
!
!
!
!

 

Hope for Dunblane

Hope for Dunblane  

 

 

In evergreen memory of our beloved 
children of Dunblane Primary School,

Scotland: United Kingdom! 

 

 

Ugonna Wachuku 

 

(c) March 1996   

 

__ 

 

Contents  

 

__ 

 

 

Dedication  

 

Prologue  

 

Part One:   

 

D:

 

Victoria:  at dawn   

 

Emma:  innocent face   

 

U:

 

Melissa:  bells toll   

 

Charlotte:  harmless smiles

 

N:

 

Kevin:  You walked our streets   

 

Ross:  to the brilliant gardens

 

B:

 

David:  tell it on the mountain?   

 

Mhairi:  evening walk without you

 

Part Two:  

 

L:

 

Brett:  sweet, little love   

 

Abigail:  on the green earth

 

A:

 

Emily:  in search of you   

 

Sophie:   I remember you

 

N:

 

John:  your soiled napkin   

 

Joanna:  in my tears

 

E:

 

Hannah:  child of peaceful Dunblane  


Megan:  my memories of you  

 

Part Three:

 

Smiles and hope

 

What monstrous hatred?

 

Epilogue

 

The Author

 

__  



Dedication  


__ 


In unfailing memory of

our 16, 5 years old kids

murdered by Thomas Hamilton

at Dunblane Primary School

Scotland on wednesday 13

March, 1996;

 

an eternal tribute to their

noble teacher who was shot

defending the children;

a message of hope and love

to mourning parents and families;

 

a loving homage of caring

love to the 12 kids and 2

teachers wounded;

to all humankind who have

learnt from, and dared to

be wounded by the bloody

tears of Dunblane!!!

 

__ 

 

Prologue

 

__ 

 

 

"Blessed are they that mourn;

for they shall be comforted."

 

~Mattthew 5: 4

 

"Blessed be God, even the Father

of our Lord Jesus Christ, the

Father of all mercies and the

God of all comfort:

Who comforts us in all our

tribulation, that we may be

able to comfort them which

are in any trouble, by the

comfort wherewith we

ourselves are comforted

of God."  

 

~2 Corinthians 1: 3-4   

 

 

The shock stills! The coldness dumbs! The reality

blatantly unfathomable! The tragic truth of humanity's

age old bizarreness sneaked in on the historic small town

of Dunblane, Scotland, on wednesday 13 March 1996, when

a lone gunman made his way into Dunblane Primary School

and in stacatto bursts of gun fire murdered 16 five year

old kids and their teacher. 12 other kids and 2 teachers

were wounded.   

 

 

When the reality of this news dawned on me, my world

stood breathless. For fleeting seconds, I thought I

was gonna wake up from my dream and see that it was not

true. But then, I fainttingly realized that I was rather

dreaming with my eyes wide open! The evergreen garden

of the blooming respect and love I have for children

all over the world had been deeply stained by the

cold blood of humankind's death-weapon. White walls

of my yearning for a better world for our earth's children,

our tomorrow's people, crumbled into streams of tears

and blinding sorrow as death quaked its loving grounds

with a gun-man's hand. Tears rolled down my face in dry

shriek. It was, in its own manner, yet another monstrous

atrocity, blatantly unique, in mankind's march through

this troubled world.  

 

 

Remembering that two months from the 13 of March, it

would be the United Nations declared International Day

of Families - 15 May, 1996, I bitterly wept for Dunblane.

I cried for humanity!   

 

 

Then, in my deep-felt sorrow, I realized that 1995-2005

is the United Nations decade for human rights education.

The question of what rights the child has to life, liberty

and security haunted my weary being. This brought me to

the brink of accepting that in many ways, humankind have

failed our children, our hope for the nations, our future!    

 

 

This book is as a result of my soulful tears and contrite heart.

This is my loving and healing hope for Dunblane because

violence to children anywhere is violence to me personally!   

 

 

Ugonna Wachuku

Wednesday 27 March, 1996 

Loex: Bernex Commune 

Geneva, Switzerland 

 

__    


Part one:   


__    



"If I can help somebody

as I pass along, if I

can cheer somebody with

a word or song...then,

my living will not be

in vain."   

 

~Martin Luther King, Jr.     



D:   


at dawn:   


Victoria Clydesdale:    



at dawn, clouds began

to gather over your

little, sleepy town -

these clouds of death

defied those streams

of peace in you:   

 

They overlooked the

beauty of your innocent

smiles.    

 

The forgot the warmness

of your innocence.

These clouds of death

did not bother to see

the unspeakable love

in your eyes.   

 

Latter that morning,

these clouds brought

in more thicks of

darkness; waiting to

bring the healthy

light you've always

known to an end.   

 

You never knew!   

 

Afterwards, the rains

came from these dark

clouds.   

 

But these rains were

not form heaven's nature.

They came from one of

us - a gun man who defied

families and humanity -

a gunman who believed

you had no right to

live and be educated.   

 

His bullets cut you

down. Yet, we refuse

to see you die.

We refuse to end

the sweet smiles you

gave; even in our

battered memories.   

 

You left home with

hope and love for

a better day. But

valiant Vicky, your

day ended in tears.

Our world stood still. 

 

Our breath fizzled out;

while earth's streams

flowed without life.   

 

Our wretched world

ended with your death.

Our tears continue even

with blue clouds and

the rainy rainbow.    

 

Now, we dream of your

loving laughter.

We dream of your calm

screams through the

welcoming day.    

 

Ehen finally, we wake

up, we shall still dream

of you, Victoria because

those smiles in your

eyes will linger

forever

while

our

dreams

of

you

trails

our

left

d

a

y

s
.

.

.

.

.

.



Innocent Face:

 

Emma Crozier:    

 

Your innocent face

shown around the

world stopped us

on the road to life.   

 

Your endless twinkle

snuffed out stars

in our skies and

brought daylight.   

 

Yet you were cut

down before you

could ask why?   

 

Beloved Emma, you

were hot to death

even in the peaceful

state of your simple

soul so calm and

trusting.   

 

Nobody seemed to care.

Humanity left you in

your innocence and

love.   

 

And death could not

wait to take you

away from us, Emma!

Death walked your

trusting path and

mine unknown.   

 

We refuse to accept

that death can take

you away. We affirm

that God will dry

your tears and ours.   

 

Yet our tears flow

because now we deeply

understand that you

were our sweet, little

girl of love and hope.   

 

The earth, with me,

weeps for you, emerald

Emma. Heaven bleeds

tormenting tearful

torrents because you

were our love, our

reason forc being.   

 

Beloved Emma, you

were our future.

But death did not

bother to respect

the hope and love

you symbolized for

or empty world.   

 

That gun of death

tracked you down

and in your own

blooming blood,

you gave up the

hope and bountiful

love within your

beautiful soul.   

 

How I shudder to think

about towering tears

so silent in your

dying breath and mine.   

 

Your utter disbelieve

at what was happening

to you and your class-

mates.   

 

What soul do I have

to stand your pleading,

searching eyes?   

 

What mortal strength

do I have to bear this

shattering burden?   

 

Who would answer your

prying questions for

humanity, Emma?   

 

Your innocent face

will linger forever.

Your smiles.

Your enchanting,

little laughter!   

 

Emma, just remember,

you are my hero.

You were our love.

Now, you are

God's

caring

A

n

g

e

l

__ 

 

 

U:   

 

bells toll:

 

Melissa Currie:   



Now, the bells toll for

you. The bells toll to

welcome earth's herald

of your little body,

Melissa!   

 

This is no wedding bell

in the country church

yard. This is no

christening ceremony...  

 

::::::: 

::::::: 

From my long-hand collection: 

Hope for Dunblane

Ugonna Wachuku  

(c) March 1996 

Geneva: Switzerland 

 

Caring and Loving

Ugonna Wachuku

 

You always talk about
caring and  loving:

 

You talk about brotherhood and
togetherness. You even take walks
through crowded streets looking for
the needy.

 

You pray always for the poor and
the unloved. You even pretend that
you care whenever you see me. You
proudly stand in street corners
to sing of your love for humanity.
You even sing of your love on TV
and radio.

 

You smile those lip service smiles
all the time. I cannot see it coming
from your heart because you always
avoid my eyes. When they call you,
you tell them how much you care;
how much you love. You preach it
from the pulpit. You sing it on
stage with lusting souls. I cannot
tell whether you mean it because
you never show it indeed.

 

When I needed help, you turned your
pious back on me. You gave reasons.
I might run away, you said. Where then
is the love you preach and sing about?

 

I needed a place to lay my little head.
But you left me all alone. You told me
to go and sleep in the cold hands of
unhealthy streets. You left me all
alone; all alone to swim with hungry
sharks and heartless people.

 

You smile when you see me and pretend
to care. You only remember that I exist
when you see me. You pretend to care and
love. Remember, you cannot light-up a room
and cover the light. The light must shine.
You cannot pretend for too long. Even in
my dreams, I see the uncaring and unloving
nature of your being and soul. I calmly see
the hypocrtic handsomeness that you possess:

 

In my dreams and tears, I scream:
Hypocrite! Hypocrite! Because with
your uncaring nature, you teach me
what love is not. And I learn for
the good of humanity and for me
because all I want to know and be
is what love is:

 

I'll always scream hypocrite
because you need to know the
truth of the spotted leopard.
Surely, my dear, the truth
will make you free. And my
caring screams will fade
away like a departing
flower fountain! 

 

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What Have We Done?

Ugonna Wachuku

 

Drowning calmness and

pure pain unknown 

overwhelm my being

on this dizzy dusk of  

earthly endurance.  

 

Black

Lives

truly

Matter!  

 

Human 

Lives  

Matter!  

 

Silence! 

 

"I have a dream:"

So:

"Let

freedom

ring!" 

 

I walk the land unknown.
I walk this land unloved.

 

Silence!

 

When love is gone,
humanity beware! 

When freedom to 

be who we are 

created to be is 

gone, humankind

weep with me and

act for restoration! 

 

When skin colour bars, 
humankind beware! 

Humankind, we are  

same red blood. 

Black Lives Matter! 

Human LiveS Matter! 

 

Earthquakes are gathering.
Smiling storms are waiting
to stir-up our lake in the 
heart of earth. Give me 

freedom to love and 

bloom for life; for dying

earth; for dying peoples

on this enchanting earth!

 

Now, I am giong home.
I am going home.
Yet, I'll be with you
because there is a sea
of unwavering love in
my silent soul because

Humankind, we are

same red blood.  

 

This day and tomorrow;
and always, I'll still
ask, in the silence of
my aching heart:

 

What have we done?
What have we done?
What have we done

to one another?
What have

we done,
humankind!

 

Black

Lives

Matter!

 

Human

Lives

Matter!

 

What

have

we

d

o

n

?

!

 

What Have We Done?  


~ Critiques/Comments ~

Serene Moment  
belleloved@excite.com
A thought provoking question for such a thought provoking piece too.
Indeed, that's the question that needs enlightenment and answer from
all of us mankind.
http://www.postpoems.com/members/serene


Donna Allard
poet_ca@hotmail.com
Ugonna..what a lovely poem! I understand fully between the lines. Keep
Informed Keep Writing Keep Peace Saphire...
http://www.postpoems.com/members/saphire


Judy Costea
snowmansmom@hotmail.com
Ugonna,
Truly a question that all should be asking. If God loved us enough to
give life and love, Happiness to us, what right do we have to spoil it
by doing the things that have distroyed humanity. And God as a loving
God gives us chance after chance and yet it continues to happen. Can
we as a human race ever be what God intended. Maybe one day this world
will be as it was meant.
Peace and Love walks with you
Judy
http://PostPoems.com/members/snowmansmom
2003-03-16 18:04:23 


Shaketa Copelin
strawberrylagoon@yahoo.com
This was deep, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading...
http://PostPoems.com/members/strawberrylagoon
2003-07-24 14:02:23 


Amber Levering  
soccor_0150@yahoo.com
i loved this one, it seems somewhat sad, but thats what i got outta
it, but god will give you true happiness even through what we've done
right?!?!?!
http://PostPoems.com/members/naiveteen_16
2005-08-25 19:07:08 


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Hold the Night

Ugonna Wachuku

 

Hold the night. Hold my love.

Hold my dreams for mankind.

 

Hold my fears tonight. Keep

the fleeing night. Keep my

care.

 

See my mood. Hold the night,

beautiful one. Please, hold

the fleeting night.

 

Don't let this night walk

away in the dark. Hold the

night.

 

Hold my dreams for

all humankind and our dying

environment. Hold the night,

beautiful one.

 

Cape of Good Hope darling,

let it be the night of a

bountiful new dawn for you

and for me, for everyone

across the planet, for our

bleeding beautiful blue earth.

 

Hold the night, I beg of you.

Tell me you will hold the night

till dawn.

 

Please, tell me you will

hold this love of mine till

the night sings of a refreshing,

healing, new morning for humankind.

 

Please, Cape of Good Nomathemba

darling, hold my uplifting care

till the fleeing night smiles

into heaven's blessed morning.  

 

Just hold the night!

Hold this night!  

 

Please, hold the night,

Cape of Good Hope lady!

The night of the

spirit's deep.

 

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