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Poems Quotes

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Poems Quotes

“QUEEN OF 339 SOLDIERS The Scorpion Queen. Oh great Queen of the Desert. Amidst your throne are 339 Soldiers Your smiles are like lightning, piercing through the soul of men. How your enemies are crushed. You are love. You are danger in the lock. Let your enemies feel your wrath for beauty is your throne. The water that flourishes in the desert. Intelligent like the sun and proud like the moon. Sex is only for the pleasure your soul and those who betray you will feel the sting of your venom. Oh daughter of desert, may your reign be long. Poem by Victor Vote for Peace Obot ©️2021 by VVF”

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Author:Victor Vote
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“Nothing is a masterpiece - a real masterpiece - till it's about two hundred years old. A picture is like a tree or a church, you've got to let it grow into a masterpiece. Same with a poem or a new religion. They begin as a lot of funny words. Nobody knows whether they're all nonsense or a gift from heaven. And the only people who think anything of 'em are a lot of cranks or crackpots, or poor devils who don't know enough to know anything. Look at Christianity. Just a lot of floating seeds to start with, all sorts of seeds. It was a long time before one of them grew into a tree big enough to kill the rest and keep the rain off. And it's only when the tree has been cut into planks and built into a house and the house has got pretty old and about fifty generations of ordinary lumpheads who don't know a work of art from a public convenience, have been knocking nails in the kitchen beams to hang hams on, and screwing hooks in the walls for whips and guns and photographs and calendars and measuring the children on the window frames and chopping out a new cupboard under the stairs to keep the cheese and murdering their wives in the back room and burying them under the cellar flags, that it begins even to feel like a religion. And when the whole place is full of dry rot and ghosts and old bones and the shelves are breaking down with old wormy books that no one could read if they tried, and the attic floors are bulging through the servants' ceilings with old trunks and top-boots and gasoliers and dressmaker's dummies and ball frocks and dolls-houses and pony saddles and blunderbusses and parrot cages and uniforms and love letters and jugs without handles and bridal pots decorated with forget-me-nots and a piece out at the bottom, that it grows into a real old faith, a masterpiece which people can really get something out of, each for himself. And then, of course, everybody keeps on saying that it ought to be pulled down at once, because it's an insanitary nuisance.”

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Book:THE HORSE'S MOUTH
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“THE PASSING DESERT WARRIOR - AMINAT Bridled by the cries of her people, she lingered in thoughts seeing the poison her hasty swing could crush the praying heart. She bent in reverence to fate as hope hold no drop from its gold jar. Her majesty withered in the face of the beast, how low her lone fight had no justice. For once evil defeated good and a second chance is given to her time had gone and after 200 years good will rule again. For Queen Aminat Sulaiman (c) Victor UzihBen”

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Author:Victor UzihBen
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“His body is a masterpiece, inked in stories I long to trace. Each muscle, carved like a goddess’ desire, tempts my fingertips to linger. His smile disarms me, melts my doubts into longing. His voice—low, smooth—sends shivers down my spine. And his touch… oh, his touch—electric, addictive, unforgettable. Against his chest, I find solace, the rhythm of his heartbeat my lullaby. His ambition is wildfire, a force that builds empires— Yet in my arms, he is simply mine. Imperfect, yet perfect in every way that matters. I don’t yet know his love, but I crave the way it would feel. And something tells me, maybe, he craves me too.”

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Author:Marion Bekoe
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“QUEEN OF THE SAND "Oh father, behold the desert queen" and I looked and I saw an inscription but age deprived my understanding. My daughter cried out, "Oh father, King of the Desert, behold she who bears my name". Then I realise it was Zara Muhammad The Queen of the Sand. The mercy of princesses. The sons delight and the father's pride. Oh daughter of Arab, what bringeth thou thee to the Kingdom were daughters are enthroned, where women rule, and where the sons of men marvel at the beauty of the stars. The Sand Queen replied, "It the glory every daughter of the Sand has spoken of brought me this far" "What glory, oh Adored Zara?" I asked and she roared with voice of a bird rejoicing over showers of seeds and she said "You my Lord and King, for your beauty has reached the ends of the world" It was then I realise that this poem was written not only for Zara Muhammed but also for Zara Vote and Victor Vote. Greetings of great Great Zara, Queen of the Sand. Poem by Victor Vote for Zara Muhammed”

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Author:Victor Vote
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“THE NIGHT PRINCESS Africa cry out for a part and she answers The light beneath Hope's The tears of the nights that wail for the freedom of her offsprings Let Africa awaits her turn and nature has been defeated once again Oh great daughter of the East, the moon through which the sons of men awaits grace. Onyii, the princess of the night. The night fears your radiance and the sun is envious of your glow. Let the wind roar for the earth is proud that a soul never envisaged will walk on its surface. Nwoji, let the soil know you stepped on it. Poem by Victor Vote for Onyii Nwoji ©️2021 by VVF”

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Author:Victor Vote
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