User talk:IvoAfrica

"The Steam Boat"

It arrived at the shore. The soul of Garang was still hot from just leaving his body. Helicopter smell permeated its new cassock and suddenly: gentle cottony hands stretch out from the foggy shoreline And lift the soul of Garang unto a padded stool in the steam boat. Then voices of classical chorists rebound and echo in every corner of the Great lakes as the boat steams away. A rustic callous hand padded the soul before adding "You don't receive medals" in another realm. You died two years before now when oil was discovered in your country and when you took diplomacy for peace.. But you fought well Garang..." Suddenly the boat delivers wings at both sides and lights point upward while the craft takes off heavenly and is swallowed by a dawn of golden rays. Near the sign post "Sudan Country" in After Africa Apolo Gamfi welcomes Garang with an embrace and said 'Ali Mazuiri told me much about you long before you were slated to inherit our "medal of lion men"' Garang was overwhelmed by the millions of dancers, the wise builders of ancient Sudanic pyramids and by his new Soul House; an expanse of 144 million rooms containing the souls of fatherless children since the beginning of Africa. He will be their new father after he is rebaptized Barnofpeace. His name was given two years before he died when he accepted in a vivid dream that he will in his after life only preserve human life than destroy it. --Arrey 18:34, 2 January 2010 (UTC)

Arrey 18:34, 2 January 2010 (UTC)

The Steam Boat (2) The Steam Boat was in the beginning. The beginning gave it billions of years as its cherished Age. It was one of the early creations of the Great Mysterious. Known to many as the Vital Force. It was indeed part of Him. So It evolved with the Nature of this Universe And was equipped to go beyond to other great plates Now unknown to science. As man evolved, And other space beings evolved, its natural mysticism Was parcelled with new windows: A Dashboard that could go back in time, into time and into the future, With functions to move in our nine spatial dimensions, One time dimension, the Eleventh, Twelfth and thirteenth dimensions And Beyond. To be the Pilot as the captain was referred to, One had to have lived A Graceful Life in the Universe and must have known secrets About the nature of the Great Mysterious. At the time of the death of Garang, A new Pilot had been appointed by an Assembly Of beings from every planet or constellation. The Assembly was called “Echemtok”. It was taken from the Bayang words standing for Town Meeting. He had seen the sun That many mystics call the Sun of God From a tiny village in Tanzania about a hundred years ago. Many new souls the Pilot came to transport to the Higher Consciousness, Never saw him unless he had personal admirations for their life-works. He wore in regret of the changes in today’s climate The Masai gear to be closer to nature and to remind users Of the Steam Boat of Global Warming. While the Boat users never saw him during their first ride, He was a constant figure during debates in Afterlife And anchored one of the most popular shows on Martian TV Called “Debates and Judgements” which was teleported to almost all bodies Including the majestic Orion. While this Pilot is a source of respect, the boat Was revered in every atom of the universe For it is connected to the Great Mysterious Himself. It appears on the shorelines of Earth Unsophisticated and shrunk into an almost old and unworkable barge But in mini seconds and with his Soul worth The Steam Boat could transform into the most sophisticated ship ever observed, In all the vital Dimensions. When this Pilot was elected, he released eleven litres Of tears of unimaginable joy. These sparkling tears are now preserved In the Great Museum of Pharaohs, with thirty three billion Users every year. This Boat cannot not be penned In these few lines I send I thus beg you to bend That I may take my leave here and end And to talk more of its stories and other stories in other stories.

Arrey Mbongaya Ivo --~

Letter from my poetry tent
You cannot measure the intelligence of a man from the length of his sexual weapon. Neither can you measure the content of that intelligence from the size of his scrotal jug. Just like it may be misleading to test objectivity in feminine patterings of orgasmic heaven. So is the anatomy of Arts. The superfluity of colours in a painting is the apparent beauty of the craft. But the life force of the creative is the character of the content. Where colours merge to make purpose and when they dissociate to unravel the mysteries behind craft. As such, the music of speech can only be measured in the articulate gesticulations of verb, adjective and the compelling spirituality of the User. To judge the word without the sound, or the inflection without the meaning, would be to appreciate arts without the genius of the artist or without artistic postulants. And so science too cannot be simply measured by the mere revolutionary status quo of the idea. The invention must tally with the positive as well as negative barometric readings of the changing innovative pressures. So too interests should not always be the essence of the politician. For politics must configure with well-being to produce a stable molecular structure of societal happening. To measure politics based on the exclusive fanatism of party idealism, is like measuring religion without God or life-force or x-raying poetry without a test on styles. So politicians should seek to satisfy the purpose for which they are elected or appointed, to give meaning to the paintings of government. They are the apparent colours, which must be mixed within the canvas to give synergy to the craft and awaken the characters hidden in the inspiration of God the artist, which in many respects may be likened to the ruler or leader of a given society or country. Therefore society must not implore the mechanisms of the ant to absolutely understand Man the Giant nor should society depend on the buttocks to analyze the brain. Society must evolve to x-ray politicians and governments, as art critics would undrape a hanging Picasso. The scrotal jug is therefore hardly the essence of societal well-being, just like well-being is hardly the imaginings of sycophant politicians. It is the objective that strives at understanding beyond the ordinary.

--Arrey 08:44, 3 January 2010 (UTC)

The Drink Hole
The Drink Hole. They wander in the desert sands From Burkina Faso to Morocco to Egypt And back to Mali and Arabia and other desert sands. Millions of years now And billions of people too on caravans with sometimes mystical camels And the Drink Hole is still hidden to television Including CNN and Aljazeera. Once you taste of its content Then you will see where Yoshua Yahwe now resides, And have colour pictures Of his recent breakfast with Bhudda And a long dead Black Chinese Emperor. I tell thee solemn audience that of the billions of men Those wombs have given Earth Only one hundred Have seen and drank from the Drink Hole. In this generation, a man from Timbuktu was Bundled in a mystical flight After eating of a mysterious forest plant from Fako To drink from the Oasis of Enlightenment. At dawn of the next day, He became the greatest healer of this time. One hundred bodies in one soul, He can appear in all the continents at the same time To heal the sick and comfort the poor in a flash. Seek ye not his face here, It was only captured by the Steam Boat When Nyerere the new pilot was on A strategic trip near the Red Sea. On Martian TV only has the white bearded black man bean revealed.

Arrey Mbongaya Ivo Arrey 09:05, 3 January 2010 (UTC) --Arrey 09:05, 3 January 2010 (UTC)

Shock from a deflowered girl
Shock from a deflowered girl.

They cut her hair Cut roads across her left hand They place a silvery cup And collect the spilling rivers. Then they spread The captive as she kicks And with a rusted blade, They cut into her flower.

Now a heaving heap Stained with tears And torrents of blood And a hood To hide her face From this shameful world, The girl wonders why Her own mother Stood by expressionless As she was “circumcised” into womanhood While men drank her blood To never get old.

By Arrey Mbongaya Ivo. --Arrey 21:09, 18 January 2010 (UTC)

Wikipedia and Web Hosting
Hello Arrey, I'm Danger and I edit here at Wikipedia. It looks like you're a little confused about what Wikipedia is for, so I wanted to help you out. Wikipedia is an encyclopedia, a collection of knowledge. We have standards for inclusion, which include verifiability and notability. It looks like you would like to have a place to show your poetry. Wikipedia is not a free web host; if you are an editor (and anyone can edit), you can use your user page to display some personal information, but you cannot use Wikipedia only as a place to show your writing. There are many websites that allow you to set up better ways of showing your poetry. I would suggest that you get a blog using Wordpress or Blogger. People will be able to find and read your writing more easily on these forums. If you need any help or have any questions, please let me know. --Danger (talk) 21:12, 18 January 2010 (UTC)