NATIONAL YOUTH SERVICE CORPSE By C.J ODINUKWE (talkaholic) It will be posted in the form of episodes once a day but today, we shall post two episodes. Feel free to make your comments and drop your suggestions. Dedication In the memory of all corpers who died during the 2011 post-election violence. May their patriotic souls rest in peace. The poem below was Culled from my book, Lyrics of Wisdom Volume 2 My Best Friend The sad end Of my best friend Asleep in the grave Rest in peace, dear Dave While leaving for the camp You gave me goodbyes wave Never knew that it meant A trip away from earths tent I remember you said You would be INECS maid You handled the elections rave But with death you got paid A young man filled with strength And compassion of great length I miss the warmth you gave Rest in peace, brave Dave ***** EPISODE 1 It kept flowing with no plans to pause. What ever force that turned on my tap of tears was definitely on the right track. At this point in time, the state of fullness of joy was not conducive for me, rather my joy overflowed. The atmosphere was laden with ecstasy. Just like a bird freed from its net, everyone flapped his wings of freedom in any style he deemed fit. The mainstream of jubilation was in the assembly of the faithful apostles of the green bottle. Their intoxicating liquid which hitherto took a frequent tour down their gullet, now served as a tool for baptism. They soaked their shirts in it, as though they wore it into a shower. At a point, stood the pocket reducing agents, who poised for shots which they would pick up from the camera man with cash that emanates from a wallet that does not bear their identity. These ladies who have succeeded in disposing the natural position of weaker vessel allotted to them at Eden, now courageously chant their campaign motto; what a man can do, a woman can do, even better. Paying no attention to their academics, they spend most of the semester in 5-star hotels in the nations capital. Generously, they render their temples of God to these bloated fools for their lusty slaughter. On their luxurious chambers, they offer their fleshy sacrifice, hence qualifying to receive overwhelming care and comfort. Having paid the price, their lips metamorphose into the pin code of the automated teller machine of these moral saboteurs whose propaganda is to violate our future wives hence leaving us with leftovers. Every thing came to exist at their beck and call, since they had cast their fate and fortune into the bosom of a money squandering Adam. How then would they come to class, when the accrued salary of their senior lecturers, would never attempt to fetch them one of the numerous cars they rode. Their devalued body did the magic that our stocked up brain could not do. Oh men; becoming so gullible just at the mere thought of a lady. Then what would occur, when caressed by the soft touch of a loose woman. Of a surety, Mans existence is imperfect when they are absent. However, they are all necessary evils. A dozen pity for a man who would walk such a lady down the aisle thereby consciously diving into a pool of troubled water. I shroud in the cloaks of fear, each time I set my eyes on these ladies. Experience is a master, which when recognised, ensures that regret stays far away. Due to the pity provoking treatment meted out to me by Prisca, I swore to always look before I leap. ******* Enjoy your day and have a splendid day. #PARROT
Posted on: Sat, 17 Jan 2015 09:29:21 +0000
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