Category Archives: Fiction

Prose and Poems especially Diaries.

Unchanging Tides

If there’s only a change I can tune to,
Or accept that which makes me glad.
For I am wrecked in speech and strength, All my efforts in sweet waste;
Oh why is such a mood called futile
Where all your days work lulls to mock you.


If only one can know the energy burned,
To eek a living worth earning,
Why is man at the receiving end,
After all his toil is gained in emptiness;
For after so much is put to make him smile,
There comes another pouring sour seeds that cost him every dime.


Or is he at the point of endless wealth,
Where riches and fame comes with a snap of the finger,
Comfort, Happiness shall laugh him to scorn,
For such he shall find like an golden treasure.
His friends and family wallow in the spoils that come
But his heart shall search like one whose God is gone!

Bitter Sweet Feeling

But hey I have nothing  says another,
But I envy in the pride of happiness
Not being aware he is basked in mediocrity
And sentimentality in its highest climb;
This too the rich detests but can’t help being friends with his pitied nature.


In all of this, life is still unfair,
for one can’t tell the story of a rich,poor or middle-class man.
Their life seems like a parallel line for a start, then later one sees the other at a dividing end;
All shall come to make a shelter of experiences for each other
For life indeed is an Unchanging tide that’s worth a lifetime.


Waiting for Change




African Woman

Such is her strength- does it really expire?
She will defend anything and everything to make life ever better.
If only it can be repaid whenever she’s frail, for Her maker has made her fragile to accommodate all that would make her agile.

No woman was born different- even the worse ones wishes for the best. Yet life has made unfair the times she tries to build her so well but got results and reactions far less than she expected.
Perhaps it is why she ended up this way: to treat what comes her way with so much disdain. Worse still, she’s bent beyond her will as what she fights for is shredded before her reach.

Or is this why some women are so cruel- born with a man’s heart to treat her subjects like dehumanized objects. When there are some born like angels, more have become a threat to the devil. Still one can’t fathom the depth of a woman, for she’s a mystery the world has sought endless discoveries.

Onyeador Anthony with compliments and regards from Uniquely Mustered

Untitled Hero

He wakes up anytime and prepares schedules which will happen at random.
Up he goes wandering round the Earth like a man insane but not mad. Not yet.
Success is his worth today but unsure for tomorrow.
Still he presses on with a zeal that hope will etch a faith yet to be sung.

She is one without parents bent to the wishes of people that come by.
Day by day she prays for a change- with patience of one who endlessly awaits a new twist.
It’s not her intention to be fiddled like a toy just to satisfy the wants of men.
Yet unknown comes the day turned to years gone by, that she would be freed from this sad state.

They were friends before now enemies with aggravated passion.
They came together from school to start a business so new.
Things turned out so well they felt their heaven is here.
Never did they know that a move beyond their nose would split them so quick.
For their offices was raised down by a snitch from a top government official;
Whom had followed them individually to study their untold secrets of success.

Heroes come and go, above or under the radar of knowledge. Yet one can’t tell it’s strength of fame when it is perceived by people who need their help. For it could be they’re present to wield some kind of support for your own.
Or may have died away to increase the fears or make you even depressed and procrastinate your time and energy to pull through.

Whichever you wish to be learn more, Read and search further, for an untold hero is in you or whom you shall influence.
The more you discover and groomed them, the more popularly unpopular will you earn but untitled.

Onyeador Anthony with compliments and regards from Uniquely Mustered


Woke up with lots of high spirit motivation.
Sensing I shall achieve more than the day I’ve ever worked.
With priorities set to take me yonder
And my dreams to which I ponder
All is set for my future to wonder.

Not knowing I’m made a pun
Of the things I’ve done that never bore results,
Hoping that I become fond of new outcomes
The goals achieved with little fuss
Laud I become across no toil,
The mess of my past revealed in a dream.

Of such strength I’ve wasted,
As I shyly grope in my wounds
Such beauty to see shattering so quick
A bell bang in as I alight from my bed.

Search for Self

With lots of pondering thought
Never letting a moment lost
Still in presence aloft,
Came voices that tenders sloth ;
Who knows what shall behold thee
When there’s no need to live
For it seems life has bought you forth
Without a gain to live again.

Words, Promises, Priorities wrought
Has not steered the clear way sought
Indeed the friends and all
Further complicates that which was got
A wind spurned with ease you’re
As you wrestle with the thoughts of being invalid.
So without vain you fought, carving a niche to grow forth.

Alas a road is there to map
Taking a pinch of steps with all your might
You journey through your various thoughts to clothe thyself a unique spot.
All this while you search for thyself
Like a visitor who escaped for a holiday
A wondrous onerous plot, a break it stole to get refreshed;
Yet you can’t tell why you died
A quiet death to rise this bright.

Great Thinkers can be…

You walk by a friend’s house to visit,
Only to be cut by some words that moved you so passionately.
About the various mirrors of Life- its Challenges, Gifts, Talents and Prospects.
The words kept flying but this remained:
A little effort you do today will evoke the faith to change all priorities.

Like it never ended there was another powerful quote.
Only that it’s from one who is easily dismissed as insane;
You witnessed the genesis of the encounter,
There came a lady with all her beauty and Pride that hit a mad man but didn’t bulge.
In anger, came the words directed to her: ” when person wey mad pass you waka, no complain”.

If only you’d a diary to save all these,
Such words that came with some heavy entrance,
That keeps you pondering as you arrive your destination,
But was cut short with another amusing but golden word.
A biker pass you in quick speed, raising dust across swampy waters;
There you rebuked with a quick temper:

“Surely common sense can’t be easily accessed

Goal to Forego

Like a running thought streaming
Is the output of the computer beaming
Such were the options explored
To keep, or execute or left annulled
Yet the explosion of a thousand works
Bereft for a man in confused state.

Who ever thought he’d be late
To feel amazed for the success gained
His dreams enticed him though not awake;
Laziness he said won’t make him quake.
Alas he comes to know about his fate,
He must work or never seek to eat.

For the choice to earn some good rewards,
Will seem to woo his every work;
Whom tried and fought with his blood
The benefits of all his labour won;
For though it’s cut short by some negligence
His ignorance won’t stand to owe him a chance.

But more soon he realizes he’s not alone,
With a wife who nags and with his fifth child.
The eldest keeps crying to return to school,
Worried that her mates would graduate now.
There’s no fees to redeem her,
Nor his job earn him an allowance to save her.

Or is it about his troublesome triplets
Who seek to provoke every neigbour;
Dreadful at school and bullies to their mates
They take so much after their father;
With a girl among them to taunt a grown male,
And the boys like a movie that attack and bail.

Yet again he’s torn to ponder
A better job than his previous ones.
If it had come long before he was sacked at his first job because of his triplets lost the keys of the department to the building.

History best preserved it as he was granted a loan a week before as his department and the lost day was a contract that was yet to materialize.
The children fooled the neighbor’s son as it was the key to his boarding locker.
Whilst the poor chap left it with his mate,
Sad father of five spent five days in the cell for such a mistake.
With three months of liquor to erase it all.

To be continued.

Camping Orientation of A Newly Trained Peace Patriot.

Marching on in Pride of Ego bestowed
Is the parade of man whom never dreamt a day like this,
Repressing quickly the pains that wrought such Victory;
Redressing the gains of newly found History.
Hail to those whom I now represent,
A para-military endowed in the training of Peace.

For in recounts of some thousands flashbacks,
Were some embittered tails and ignorant fight backs,
Before then but now perceived as transformed Combat;
Of Orientation in thoughts, actions and all.
Patiently will I tell my story
Of how newly odd thoughts changed a strangely unique Patriot like Me.

Is it the shocking arrival gift to the Camp,
The Drill of Carrying Bags on the head like Villagers on Transit,
Or the rolling of a White shirt turned brown
As its baptised in muddy waters while tossed;.
Oh yes, its done by a human to another Human,
Sought in Pleasure of large numbers of new comers.

Such was the deal that seems to be the drill,
Of expectant hope dashed in escapades of quick lightening.
I thought to be welcomed a fresh incoming cadet,
But to my dismay, behold a dirty bloody civilian;
To my deepest regret I felt I’m in the wrong place,
Though unknown to me this is a welcome gift.

Or was it another bizzare encounter,
A sound of trumpet commanding a thundering rush.
Out came all in white over blue clothings with socks and canvass;
Dare to dodge in the midst of them struggling in the push,
To be the first to arrive only to sit on your buttocks.
Pin your nyash, as its called in groups of three columns,
The standard procedure of how to meet in every call.

Most times unknown is the reason behind the call,
Surprising still the number of times to attend to such,
For it may be for Parade, Lecture or Tattoo;
Still one deserves to answer whenever its blown.
Of all the three reasons behind the reason of Call,
Parade is the mostly done exercise that was ever known.

A reason no Cadet or Officer may deny,
That Marching though of its own accords high repute.
Taught extensively above the rest like one who prays daily;
And more reasons too many to fetch.
We learned from scratch to finish how its done,
No matter tiring our bodies at first till our feet went sore.

Yet again is another reason of precedence,
The tattoo of which I can’t trace why its called so.
Described when all gathers to sing unrelentlessly,
Songs of Jungle experience and untraced lyrics.
Held every night and sometimes in the wee hours
Thus denying me from sleep irrespective of its reoccurence.

Then came the Lecture, the silently occurring program,
Scheduled at its due time like one assembled in a classroom.
Various topics of different issues discussed as well interactive;
From technical Professionals and learned Experts.
I thought I could learn dozens of lessons from them.
Unknown to me and my colleagues, such moments were quickly forgotten.

Those were the chiefly things that went by
Ad mist some lucrative things to animate the training.
That ran the course of a full months
With Breaks and change of location across its path;
It began like the day of the end should quickly come,
As the reverse is what I can’t describe is the karma I pray.

For the odd thoughts poured from my being,
The clashing of negative mood beating hard;
Wishing I waited for the end of the training.
Not knowing I was in the wrong build of formation,
For unknown came my deliverance and gradual departure,
Of Change into likeness of all its acts.

Days came speeding to weeks,
Gladly attuned to the training wrought,
Wishing the days counted backwards,
As I begged each day for its amends;
Though reverted can’t bring my mess so much
With the struggle and energy of today’s lot.

So friends I stand to gain after my blind anguish,
The training of so little compared to the course it goes
That in a month, these virtues of learning so much is taught;
Should it be in uninterrupted may end in six.
Ever grateful wells from me and my trainers’ commitment,
I’m a Peace Patriot, O world behold me as such!

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered

Pessimistic Bells

The sun rises above my skin with dim rays of hope
I seek to ponder in pending pensive premonition
How I wish to relate history in lyrics that can’t rhyme with tales
When life challenges to swing strife with unrelenting divides
Never to forget Success strides that rolls on through calm trails.

That one seems lost in the destination of Change
In new twist of different turns and themes
There seem to be the most wanted needs
Clashing with less desired wants and thrills
Yet these is ever difficult to spot in the development
Of the sojourn of experiences and encounters forlorn.

Never did one know the end of the beginning from its beginning of its end
Praying to perceive the trends of life’s favourite bends
Cajoled in the maxim, becoming his favourite words:
Had I known… Should I had known; I thought I knew
Starting with little efforts with early signs of giving up
Is the zeal of high motivation proceeds to faint dash of hope.

To what reasons is there that amounts to the piles of work
Left for the initiative of the wise to accomplish obviously seen
Motifs was there but now lost, Morale was high but now dim
All bought by excuse that tags him a Lazy Achiever,
Despite the frustrations present building like a bridge
A mountain its become in the Fatigue of Handwork’s Ridge. .

Indescribable Weirdness

Never again will I be so queer and strangely weird
Even if I begin to sound through my words,
That life to me with the people in my World,
Is of timeless display of characters both good and bad;
Nevertheless I shall sojourn in it with a piece of me
To regain the path of Wisdom or Folly in me.

For in trying to express I seem to repress,
Life’s countless dramas of moods and disposition.
Bearing in mind its the History of One
Which in generality becomes the mindset of all;
Thoughts fallen short in validity and concise detail
Still is the window of what the world be.

Here’s the marvel of Life’s Challenges
Is the battle of win and lose struggles,
If won by me, the ego is lauded
If lost, the pain tunes up the bruises caused;
Across my priorities, disposition and properties,
Is the amount of Risks and profit rewarded.

Whence tis the reaction from people,
Who try to swing all that them heathens,
In their actions and words so non civil;
Is my interpretation to pray for a change in them.
Though its like asking God to be man,
Still I seek to transform the good in them.

Yet I’m lost in the quest to sustain the change,
To stir the motivation that quickly wanes.
For to interact with man despite all his odds,
Is like bathing a fine stone with sweet perfume;
A little while you’re happy to associate with him
Only for another moment to cross the lines and divide the spoils.

Or about me who’s trying to identify mine,
Spotting all the Weaknesses, Dislikes and any odds.
I award myself by reducing such hard facts for Talents
When in essence, the odds should be my burning fuel,
To maintain a fair balance to others and Nature,
Letting out it no matter how its emitted.

This at times colours the trait of the unknown to me,
Of Traitor, Weakling, Hypocrite,Confused and all its negatives,
Owing to fear of those around me-whoever to me;
The vent of character hardly shown, barely noticed
Is my prayer to use as a divine tool through me.
So I may work with God and Neighbours to pave my path.

Thus this is like a touch of thick and thin,
Between who’s sane among you and me.
Like a game of luck or chance a die is cast
Disclosing probabilities of Contrast and Differences;
Yet a winner must exist, with near or far outcomes
Its neither you or I or astonishingly so, another else

In my gain of saying, I speak wisely
And bet to challenge you can do better;
Though I wait that man may attain;
The awareness to reduce the insanity of this cruel world,
By ensuing Love- any kind especially from the Heart,
And to heal another with justified works and Prayers.

A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered


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