Friday, September 30, 2005

Why Not Love Me Now?

Why Not Love Me Now?

For how long do I have to wait for your love?
What more do I have to do to win your love?
Once again, I ask you my darling
How long do I have to wait for your love?
For how long will you keep me waiting?
Oh, ooh! Can’t you see how much I need your love?

Why not love me now
While the sun is still shining?
Why not love me now
While the moon is still glowing?
Why not love me now
While the wind is still blowing?
Why not love me now
While the river is still flowing?
Why not love me now
While the flowers are still blooming?
Why not love me now
While the birds are still flying?
Why not love me now
While I am still breathing?
Oh, ooh! Oh, my darling.
Why not love me now?
Before I breathe no more.

Why not love me now?

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Between Thin Lizzy And Fat Sussy

If I have to choose
Between thin Lizzy and fat Sussy
I will spurn thin Lizzy.
Because, I don't want to sleep with a skeletal Barbie
Looking like a refugee girl from Ethiopia.
I gape at the anorexic or bulimic.
I think they are pathetic.

Give me a woman with the body of Venus
With huggable voluptuous orb.
A complete woman
With well proportioned body
The comfort of every man

A voluptuous lady.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Living On Borrowed Time

Living On Borrowed Time
I promised her a present on her birthday
But, I traveled before that fine day.
Then, when I came back beaming with smiles
I was looking forward to seeing her again.
Nneka saw me and rushed to hug me excitedly.
“Where is Happiness?” I asked.
“Happiness is gone,” she replied.
“Gone where? Back to school?”
“Happiness has passed away.”
The chilling cold news spoilt my moments of joy.
I fell down on the leather seat of the restaurant
Where we often met to share precious moments regarding ourselves
And also regarding the passers by of human traffic on foot and in vehicles
In front of the ever busy Bajulaiye Road in Shomolu on the Lagos Mainland.
Now the memories of Happiness filled my mind.
Happiness was always full of smiles
We were fond of each other and we enjoyed our companionship.
The family told she was a sickler.
But, I prayed for her survival and longevity
She was in the university and had great dreams
But now she was gone and here I am down in the mouth.
Living on a borrowed time.
Conquering through death...

"For through the Law I died to the Law, so that I might live to God.

"I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live,
but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I
live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for

Galatians 2:19,20 NASB


Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or
distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or
sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the
day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered."

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who
loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor
rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height
nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate
us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:35-39 ESV


Thanks be unto God for His wonderful gift:
Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God
is the object of our faith; the only faith
that saves is faith in Him.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

The Beauty of American Liberty

My Dear,
In America, seeing is believing.
You will never know the true meaning of freedom
Until you come to America.
Ahaah! You cannot slap a woman in America.
Hmmn. Not even your wife?
Dare and you will regret it for the rest of your life.

When, I am returning to Nigeria?
When you are in God's own country
Where else would you want to go?
What of those who were abandoned in New Orleans?
Who told you they were abandoned?
Nobody abandoned anybody.
They were just waiting for their President to come and carry them.
Is George W. Bush their Bus Driver?
No. But, they wait for him to do everything for them.
Are they handicapped or retarded?
No. Americans just love to be pampered.

I am coming for Christmas.
Because, I cannot stand the freezing weather of Winter?
No. Once, there is a heater, you are allright.
I am coming to introduce my American babe to you.
Here is a copy of her picture.
Yes oh! She is hot.
This is the beauty of American liberty.

Monday, September 19, 2005

How Many Ways Did Romans Kiss?

How many ways did Romans kiss?

The Romans had three words for kissing:
Basium was the kiss exchanged by acquaintances;
Osculum, the kiss between close friends; and
Suavium, the kiss between lovers.

So kiss me now
While I am still breathing.
So kiss me now
While I am still smiling
So kiss me now
Kiss me once
And kiss me twice
Then, kiss me thrice
To show me that you still want me.
So kiss me now.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Yulia, Keep Smiling and Keep Shining

My fair Lady
Should I sing you another melody?

Keep smiling Yulia
Keep shining Volodymyrivna.

They can take away our titles
And they can destroy the files
But, can they erase the truth enshrined in our hearts?
For we trust the one who knows all things
And our destinies are in His hands.

My beautiful princess
Should I wipe away your tears?

Let them tell their coloured lies
But can they change the way the crow flies?
For their breath smells like the breath of Judas.

Let them laugh aloud behind our backs
Let them slap their black slacks.

They can twist the ears of the people
But, they cannot change their will
For the truth will always resurrect
And like the dormant volcano, it will erupt.

No this is not the end.
It is only the beginning of another journey.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Let's Go Home Son.

Let’s Go Home Son

All our most precious possessions have been lost
All the precious things we treasured most.
We have conquered all our fears
And we have shed all our tears.
We have left the daisies behind
We have seen the worst fate of humankind.

But, we thank God
We are among the survivors
For hundreds will never return to their homeland.
Their remains are still there on the shores
Who cares about sticks and stones?
Who cares about their bones?

Don’t ever forget this my boy
Don’t ever hope on anyone to save you
Otherwise, one day you will lose your joy.
For all of us are liars and only God is true.
When all have been said and done
We would all be dead and gone.

Let us go home son.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Only God Can Save My Soul

Only God can save my Soul.

When we were young
We were so strong
And we thought nothing would go wrong
So, we sang our beautiful song.
Basking in the sun
Dancing in the rain.
Until Danny pulled the trigger of the gun
And things were never the same again.

Damn the man that made the gun
He has caused us so much pain.
We have lost count of those who have been slain
So, I’m sorry baby, I’ve got to run.

Only God can save my soul.

Let me give you my kisses and my roses
For nobody needs anymore-bloody causes
And I don’t need any bloody gun
I don’t want any more heartburn.
How can we live in peace?
When others are being cut to pieces
How can I stop weeping?
When others are still dying.

Baby can’t you see that I’m not to blame
The guns messed up the world and what a shame
The guns have spoilt all our fun
So, I’m sorry baby, I’ve got to run.

Only God can save my soul.


Thursday, September 15, 2005

Sweet Memories of Yesterday

Sweet Memories of Yesterday

I read your old letters
I look at our pictures.
Pictures of my memories
Vistas of our reveries
Memories of yesterday
Will always return today.
As our passions sway
Sweet memories never go away
There are little things I will always remember
The precious moments we shared together.
Being with you was so beautiful
And loving you was so wonderful.

Sweet sweet memories of yesterday
Sweet memories don’t ever go away.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005



Many waters have passed under the bridge
And I nearly fell off the edge.

I would have fallen into the murky waters
The murky waters of the overflowing rivers.
The overflowing rivers of blood
And I would have drowned in the flood.
In the crimson flood of the tear shed
The tear shed flowing over the bloodshed.
Flowing from Iraq to Afghanistan
And from Afghanistan to Pakistan
And from Pakistan to Uzbekistan.
And yet they were still haunted by the ghouls of Satan.
The echoes of the wailing women
Bemoaning the doom of the last omen.
The women of Uzbekistan covered in sackclothes
Like mushrooms trampled on the grass.

Things were looking up as I continued to hope
But, I was looking down.
I can no longer walk on this tight rope.
There is an eclipse of the sun at dawn.
For how can I see the sunrise?
When I grope in the shadows of the eclipse?

I have borne pains beyond pretence
And I have embraced realities beyond romance.
Grappling with the realities of our elusive existence.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005


Yesterday, I gave a special focus on the highly talented actress Lady Tara Fitzgerald. I wonder if you read the full-length feature on the "Frenchman's Creek" or not. Kisses & Roses is not all poetry. It is full blown literature of the highest order. Because, that is the stuff I am made of in prose and verse.Classic, erotic, exotic and romantic.

Today, I have the pleasure to present to you the new classic romantic novel "On Beauty" by the gifted 29 years old Zadie Smith already nominated for the 2005 Man BOOKER PRIZE. You have a lot to gain by collecting this classic book that is worth every price in gold. "On Beauty" is collector's item that should not be missing in your home.

'Beauty' before age: Zadie Smith beats veteran authors to a place on the Man Booker shortlist
By Louise Jury
09 September 2005
The high-flying young novelist Zadie Smith made it through to the final round of the £50,000 Man Booker Prize for fiction while heavyweight rivals including previous winners - Salman Rushdie, J M Coetzee and Ian McEwan - were felled yesterday.
Announcing the six contenders for the 2005 award, Professor John Sutherland, chairman of the judges, admitted there was enough talent on the 17-strong longlist for two shortlists in a triumphant year for British and Irish fiction.

Only one previous winner, Kazuo Ishiguro, 50, with Never Let Me Go, remained in contention for the prestigious prize after a two-hour debate. The Japanese-born writer who moved to Britain at the age of six, said he was "very flattered".
But it was Julian Barnes, 59, twice previously shortlisted, who was immediately installed as the bookmakers' favourite with Arthur & George, a work which relies heavily on a true-life story involving the writer Arthur Conan Doyle.

Sebastian Barry, 50, was shortlisted for A Long Long Way and said he was "properly gobsmacked" at his inclusion in a year hailed as possibly the best in Booker history. "From almost every angle it's astonishing," he said. "Quite frankly, I didn't know where I'd find a parking space. There were 17 cars and six parking spaces. But somebody has very kindly given me a space."

Other contenders are John Banville, 59, who lives in Dublin, for his novel The Sea. He said he was surprised and extremely pleased, adding: "I didn't envy the judges their task this year. Obviously the novel is far from dead."
He joins Inverness-born Ali Smith, 43, shortlisted for The Accidental. Both writers have been shortlisted before.

Zadie Smith was the final name on the list with her third novel, On Beauty. At 29, she is the youngest of the six by some margin. She has been living and working in America and, in an interview with the latest New Yorker magazine, condemns British culture and its "general stupidity, madness, vulgarity" as "disgusting".
Professor Sutherland said: "A lot of very strong novels had regretfully to be excluded. There's no discredit not to be on this shortlist. The current view of British fiction, in my view, is immensely strong, immensely healthy, and one of the glories of our civilisation." If Britain could make cars as it produces novelists, it would beat the Japanese, he said.

The omission of Coetzee's Slow Man and Hilary Mantel's Beyond Black were also mentioned as particular regrets though Josephine Hart, the novelist and judge, stressed: "We were just."

David Sexton, a literary editor and one of the judges, said an indication of the strength of the year was the exclusion from the shortlist of McEwan's novel Saturday, which had been highly favoured by many. "You might think that Saturday is a stronger work than Amsterdam which won the Booker [in 1998]."
The winner will be announced on 10 October.
Literary editor Boyd Tonkin gives his verdict.

Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
Ishiguro sends in the clones in his eerie school-story parable about children bred and farmed as organ donors. In adulthood, Kathy looks back in bewilderment on the hideous experiment in the dream-like, otherworldly idiom that Ishiguro has made his own. Mysterious and elusive, this novel shows in spades the enigmatic control of voice and emotion that this year's jurors seem to admire beyond all else.
William Hill odds: 3/1.

Zadie Smith, On Beauty

Inspired by E M Forster (Howards End above all), Zadie Smith also draws with glee on the funds of satire and farce built up by the tradition of the campus novel. At an East Coast college, two rival clans of academics tussle over sex, art and politics. By a mile, it's the most exuberant and enjoyable novel on the list, although Smith gives her galloping talent an easy ride with some soft targets and familiar settings

On Beauty: A Novel
by Zadie Smith

A Review by Joseph O'Neill
If, as Cyril Connolly suggested, success is the greatest of all the enemies of literature, few talents can have been more threatened than Zadie Smith's. And indeed White Teeth, her triumphant debut, was followed by The Autograph Man, an awkward, slightly chaotic novel that gave the impression of a writer disoriented by a cacophonic critical babble and trying to regain her bearings by asking herself (as Connolly might have counseled), Would it amuse Horace or Milton or Swift or Leopardi? Could it be read to Flaubert or Dave Eggers?

On Beauty, Smith's third novel, is by contrast an assured effort -- although Smith remains sufficiently self-conscious (and generous) to expressly acknowledge the influence of E. M. Forster: "He gave me a classy old frame, which I covered with new material as best I could." This material concerns a fateful year or so in the lives of the Belseys, a family living in the liberal splendor of a Massachusetts college town. The father (white, English) is a professor, the mother (African-American) is a hospital administrator, and they have three kids, all students. They are confronted with familiar enemies of familial happiness -- marital infidelity, creeping emotional isolation, coming-of-age hazards -- as well as the ideological and spiritual challenges arising from the arrival in town of the Kippses, an aggressively reactionary and religious Anglo-Caribbean family.

Smith displays all her strengths: satirical energy, imaginative breadth (she's equally engaging about the inner lives of a teenage boy and a middle-aged mother), and a sure and funny touch with jumbled ethnicities. And although the full, tragic dimensions of the human adventure may be missing -- an odd, sitcommy inconsequentiality colors the disasters that befall her characters -- there's no doubting the artistic conviction that underlies this unabashedly conventional novel. It's hard to say what Horace or Leopardi would have made of On Beauty, but it might well have amused Forster, at least.

Shortlisted Zadie Smith vents spleen over 'aspirational' England

Gerard Seenan
Friday September 9, 2005
The Guardian
Zadie Smith: 'not interested in being stared at in coffee shops'. Photo: Eamon McCabe
The following statement from Zadie Smith was issued by Penguin Books on September 9 2005:

"I have lived in England my entire life and have an enormous love of the place, a fact that is obvious to anyone who has read my fiction. English fiction is my first love and the joy of English culture and history infuses every aspect of my work. I live in the same street I grew up in and have no plans to leave. In the context of a phone conversation about modern England with a New York journalist, we both bemoaned the rise of bad reality TV shows and the obsession with wealth and celebrity that has gripped parts of our culture. I expressed a sadness about these things, and a sadness at the current atmosphere of fear and loathing on the tube which has been the inevitable result of the terrorist attacks upon London. Within the conversation we had, these opinions did not seem controversial. As a committed anglophile, it is really upsetting to see these comments twisted and quoted out of context. I said I had no 'f***ing chance' of getting on the Booker shortlist because it seemed to me that the longlist was of an incredibly high standard. I am amazed and delighted to have been shortlisted alongside British and Irish writers for whom I have nothing but respect."

Monday, September 12, 2005

French Kiss for Tara Fitzgerald


I am in a very romantic mood today. So, I have watched the "FrenchMan's Creek" with Tara Fitzgerald playing the leading Lady Dona St. Columb and Anthony Delon as Jean Aubrey. Tara is a classic romantic actress. And I rate her higher than Julia Roberts in playing classic romantic roles.


Who knows the history of Mary Slessor and who knows the history of Mattie Terri Shackelford?

Seeking to escape the stifling London court society, the beautiful headstrong Lady Dona St. Columb ('Tara Fitzgerald' ) flees to her family estate on the Cornish coast. Her new freedom swiftly brings her into contact with the dashingly handsome French privateer Jean Aubrey (Anthony Delon) who sweeps her off her feet and into a world of adventure on the high seas very different from her dull and boring life at court with her husband Sir Harry ('James Fleet' ). Together with Jean Aubrey and her enigmatic servant William (Danny Webb), Lady Dona conceives a daring plan to steal a ship right from under the noses of the English authorities. The theft enrages the authorities who make every effort to trap the French Pirate. However, as the noose begins to tighten around the lovers, Lady Dona is faced with the dilemma of duty and children with Sir Harry or freedom and excitement with Jean Aubrey.



Daphne Du Maurier’s husband, Tommy, played a vital role in the 2nd World War and, like thousands of other service men and women; he was away from home for much of the time. Daphne and Tommy’s third child was born in November 1940 and Daphne was thrilled to finally have the son she had longed for. He was named Christian Frederick, but always known as Kits.
Because Tommy was away so much Daphne, her children and their nanny were invited to stay with Paddy and Henry Puxley (known as Christopher) who lived in a house called Langley End, near Hitchin in Hertfordshire. Paddy had a very small staff to help her run her home and she had taken in two young evacuees, so Langley End was a full and busy household. Almost immediately childhood and winter illnesses struck and Daphne found her self heavily involved as all her children and then their nanny succumbed to measles, influenza, colds and coughs. It was extremely unusual for Daphne to have any involvement with domesticity and it was during this difficult and unromantic time that she began writing Frenchman’s Creek, which Daphne herself described as the only romantic novel she ever wrote. Victor Gollancz published Frenchman’s Creek towards the end of 1941.

The central character in Frenchman’s Creek is Lady Dona St Columb who lives with her husband Harry and their two small children Henrietta and James, at the court of Charles II. Dona and Harry spend much of their time in the company of Harry’s friend, Lord Rockingham and they all enjoy a life of aimless fun and merrymaking. Dona has a mild flirtation with Lord Rockingham and permits him to kiss her, but Rockingham misinterprets the situation and assumes a propritorial air over Dona while Harry looks on with lazy, slightly disapproving eyes.

One night, for a dare, Rockingham and Dona dress up as highwaymen and hold up the carriage of a well known, elderly woman from court. The woman is terrified and begs for mercy. Dona is ashamed of her actions and suddenly sees the futility of her life. With hardly a moment’s thought Dona decides to change her lifestyle and leaving her husband in London she sets off to Navron, Harry’s country estate in Cornwall. She takes the children and Patience their nurse with her but she tells Harry not to follow her, as she wants to be alone.

Dona has only ever visited Navron briefly on one previous occasion but on arrival it becomes obvious that all is not as expected. She had imagined a full staff running the household in the family’s absence. Instead she finds the house closed up and dusty with only William, the manservant, in residence. William is faultlessly hard working and respectful and quickly sets about cleaning the house and employing staff and yet there is something about this man with his dark eyes and little button mouth that puzzles Dona. He is not like any other servant that she has ever known and he seems to be quietly laughing to himself as though perhaps he holds a secret.

When Dona goes to her room she finds a jar of tobacco and a book of French verse in the drawer by her bed. The book has initials inside the front cover and a tiny drawing of a sea gull. She wonders for a moment if William has been sleeping in her bed during her absence, but dismisses the idea, as she does not see him as a smoker or a man who would read poetry.

Dona and her children quickly settle into life at Navron. The house is beautiful and the grounds have a tranquillity that is soothing and restful. Dona spends many hours sitting in the sunshine and wandering in the grounds. At the edge of the estate is woodland and being springtime the woods are carpeted with bluebells.

One afternoon Dona’s peace is disturbed by a visit from Lord Godolphin, a local landowner. He tells Dona that a French pirate is in the area and that everyone living along the coast is in danger of being robbed or worse. The Navron land is on the Helford River close to where it flows out to sea and Godolphin believes that Dona could be in danger. He wants her to send for Harry as he needs his support in a plan to capture the pirate. When Lord Godolphin leaves Dona tells William that she will not be at home to any more visitors as she does not want her peace disturbed. William says that he understands Dona’s need to escape the life of London because his previous master had also escaped the conventional life and that is why he no longer needed William’s services.

That night Dona wakes up and goes to her window. She is surprised to see an unknown shadowy figure standing by the woods at the edge of the lawn, then William appears hurrying across the lawn towards him and a conversation takes place. Next day Dona writes to Harry and tells him about Lord Godolphin‘s visit and about the French pirate but she does not ask him to come down to Cornwall.

Later that day when everyone in the household is occupied Dona makes her way across the lawn to the woods where she saw William and the stranger. She walks on through a thickly wooded area and suddenly she glimpses water through the trees and discovers that a creek branching off from the Helford River actually passes through her woodland. Dona follows the path of the creek and then to her amazement she sees that the creek widens and that there is a ship harboured by a little quay almost hidden by the trees. There are men working on the ship, carrying out repairs and singing as they work. Everything then becomes clear to Dona, for the men are singing in French and she realises that she has discovered the hiding place of the French pirate. As Dona steps back there is the movement of someone behind her, a coat is thrown over her head, her arms are clamped to her side and she is knocked to the ground.

Dona struggles to free herself but the pirate that has captured her takes her to the ship and as she goes on board she sees the name La Mouette (the Sea Gull) written on the ships side. Here is another surprise because the ship is spotlessly clean, the crew are all smiling and when she is taken into their leaders cabin he is sitting sketching a heron and turns out to be an extraordinarily charming man and not the desperado that Lord Godolphin had described.

Initially, Dona’s manner is haughty and disdainful at being caught but she finds the French pirate so pleasant and attractive that she is soon deep in conversation with him and discovers that it is he who left the tobacco and the book of poems in her room; he who is William’s master; and that during the time that he has spent at Navron he has learned all about Dona and her life in London. Dona and the pirate share a meal together and then he tells her she is free to go home to her children knowing that her responsibilities lie with them. Before Dona leaves the pirate introduces her to his crew and tells them that Dona is to be allowed to come to the ship at any time. Dona arranges to meet the pirate again at Navron late the following night.

When Dona returns home she asks William to make sure that everyone in the household has gone to bed by 10pm the following night as she wants him to cook supper for her and her visitor in secret. William is delighted that his master has met his new mistress. The next night the French pirate comes to Navron and a bond is formed which brings Dona and the pirate ever closer. From then on William always covers for Dona when she is with the pirate. They meet often and the pirate teaches Dona to fish and to recognise the different bird sounds. As they talk she learns that his name is Jean Benout Aubery and that in the past he had been a landowner in Brittany with estates, money, friends and responsibilities but wearying of that life he had become a pirate and that much of what he steals goes to the poor.

One afternoon Dona visits Lady Godolphin. A number of other neighbours are also visiting and there is much talk of the pirate and how they plan to capture him. On her return from the Godolphin’s, Dona goes fishing with the pirate and tells him of the plan to capture him. The pirate says that he has been idle at the creek for too long and is planning another adventure that will give the likes of Lord Godolphin a run for their money. Dona begs to be allowed to go with the pirate and his crew and after much discussion it is agreed that she will sail on La Mouette as cabin boy. In addition Dona and the pirate make a wager that if she is seasick or frightened she will give him her ruby earrings and if she is not he will seize Godolphin’s wig for her.

So before dawn, a few days later, Dona joins La Mouette as she edges silently down the creek and out to the open sea in the direction of Fowey Haven and as Dona stands on the deck and looks at the French pirate, she knows that she loves him and that he feels the same about her.

Lord Godolphin’s brother-in-law, Phillip Rashleigh, lives in a house just behind the town quay at Fowey and he has just returned from the Indies with his ship, the Merry Fortune, loaded with cargo. This is the ship that the French pirate plans to take. So in the dead of night the French pirate and his crew, with Dona dressed as a cabin boy, leave La Mouette, in Lantic Bay, a short distance from the harbour mouth at Fowey and climb up the cliffs and then along the high ground until they can see the Merry Fortune anchored below them. The French pirate decides that Rashleigh would be better on board his ship than on land where he could signal an alarm. So while some of the men move down toward the Merry Fortune he sends Dona and one of his men across the river in a small boat so that Dona can go to Rashleigh’s house and lure him out.

When Dona finds Rashleigh’s house and knocks on the door she discovers that Lord Godolphin is visiting Rashleigh and they both come to the door. Dona hides in the shadows as she tells her tale, pretending that there is a problem on the Merry Fortune and that she has been sent to fetch Phillip Rashleigh as he is needed on board. Unfortunately the weather and the tide change and as Rashleigh and Godolphin head for the quay they see the Merry Fortune moving slowly toward the harbour mouth. They sound the alarm and suddenly there are people everywhere. A number of small boats set out in pursuit of the Merry Fortune, including one containing Rashleigh and Godolphin. Dona takes the opportunity to run to the safety of Readymoney cove, where she is picked up by a small boat and taken out to the Merry Fortune. People in the boats are shooting at the pirates on the Merry Fortune, but to no avail. Suddenly the French pirate reaches out from the ship with his sword and lifts the wig right off Godolphin’s head as he stands below them in the boat and Rashleigh shouts out that he can see a woman on board. Then the Merry Fortune gains speed and sails away.

Some of the crew take the Merry Fortune across to France while the rest return to the safety of the Helford River, in La Mouette. Dona is seasick on the return journey and knows she will need to forfeit her ruby earrings. After spending a day or two with the French pirate Dona returns to Navron early one morning. She has been away from home for five days and knows that her freedom can only be a temporary thing. During Dona’s absence William has covered for her by telling her children and the rest of the household that she is confined to her room with a fever and only he may tend her.

On her return Dona discovers that Harry and Lord Rockingham, bored with life in London, have arrived at Navron and that William has had some difficulty persuading them that Dona is too ill to see them. After a brief respite in her room Dona rejoins the household only to discover that Harry and Rockingham have heard all about the French pirate’s latest escapade and that they have invited Lord Godolphin, Phillip Rashleigh and a number of other local landowners to dinner that evening, with a view to setting out to capture the pirate before the night is out. William goes down to the creek to warn the pirates and is injured on his way back by one of Godolphin’s men who are already taking up positions along the Helford river and surrounding area.

That night at dinner, Dona, wearing her ruby earrings, dazzles the men and plies them with wine in the hope that she can distract them from the task ahead. Suddenly there is a knock at the door and when no servant appears to open it one of the dinner guests leaves the table and goes to the door. There is a shocked silence as the French pirate strides in and it becomes obvious that Dona, Harry and their visitors are surrounded by the pirates, who have crept silently in to the house and tied up all the servants. The French pirate asks Dona for her ruby earrings, telling her that he has a wager with his cabin boy that he will get them! Then he strips all the men of their swords and their valuables before ordering his men to take everyone upstairs and tie them up. William, though injured, has recovered slightly and helps the pirates. Meanwhile the French pirate takes Dona to one side. He kisses her and gives her back the ruby earrings and then he tells her that providing he and his crew get away they will be at Coverack Bay in La Mouette just before dawn and that William will take her there if she wants to go with them. He then steps outside into the darkness and disappears, leaving Dona alone.

Believing that everyone is tied up in the bedrooms, Dona turns to climb the stairs only to discover Lord Rockingham above her with a knife in his hand. One look at his face tells Dona that Rockingham knows all about French pirate and herself and that he is mad with jealousy. Rockingham taunts Dona with threats of what will happen to her is she is arrested for colluding with the pirates and then he lunges as her with the knife telling her that he is going to kill her. There is a terrible struggle but eventually Dona gains control and kills Rockingham to save herself. Dona is exhausted and weak from the fight and all she wants is for William to take her to her pirate, but when Harry and the others manage to free themselves they discover Rockingham’s body and believe that the French pirate has killed him.

The French pirate is captured by Godolphin’s men just as he is about to board La Mouette and although his ship and the rest of the crew get away, he is taken to Lord Godolphin’s estate and locked up in the keep with a gaoler and a guard to watch over him. Meanwhile William is missing but eventually the children’s nurse, Patience, confessed to Dona that she had hidden William in the nursery on the night that Lord Rockingham was killed and that he is now recovering from his injuries at the house of a trusted woman friend in the nearby village of Gweek.

Harry is distraught at the death of his friend Rockingham and believes Dona to be equally upset, so when she asks him to leave Navron with the children and Patience, telling him that she will follow him the next day, he agrees. As soon as everyone has gone Dona rides to Gweek to find William and they plan to rescue the French pirate. Dona then rides on to Lord Godolphin’s estate where she finds preparations underway to hang the pirate. She also finds a somewhat distracted Lord Godolphin waiting to speak to the doctor because Lady Godolphin, who has had a difficult pregnancy, is in labour. While Godolphin is so distracted Dona persuades him to let her see the prisoner and he takes her up into the keep. He then has to hurry away to see the doctor so he calls the gaoler to keep an eye on things. Despite this, Dona manages to slip the French pirate a gun and a knife and they manage to communicate to one another that the time for his escape will be eleven o’clock that night. A plan is forming in Dona’s mind and before she leaves the keep she engages the gaoler in conversation, discovering that he is a father of fourteen children with a great interest in the baby which is due to be born to Lady Godolphin. Dona tells him that she knows the doctor, a Dr Williams, and that she will ask him to call in at the keep with news once the baby is born. Dr Williams is, of cause, William, but neither Lord Godolphin nor the gaoler have any idea that there is a link between Dona and the French pirate, so they suspect nothing.

Later that night Dona and William ride to Lord Godolphin’s estate, dressed as the doctor and his groom. William has no trouble getting into the keep as the gaoler is expecting the “doctor”. A scuffle ensues but the French pirate, William and Dona have little trouble overcoming the gaoler and the guard. They ride away heading for the coast where they make camp for the rest of the night. As the sun comes up La Mouette can be seen and William is ready with a little boat to row his master out to his ship. Much as she loves the French pirate Dona can not go with them; she knows that she has responsibilities that tie her.

Frenchman’s Creek has variously been described as an adventure story, a romance with a capital “R”, purely escapist and the most frivolous of all Daphne du Maurier’s novels. Daphne du Maurier described it as the only romantic story that she ever wrote and she was never really happy with it. When it was published it received non-committal reviews and yet despite the fact that initially it lacked the success of Rebecca, it went on to be one of Daphne du Maurier’s most successful books, probably largely because it was set in Cornwall. The Cornish novels are always the ones for which she is most well remembered.

The freedom of men and the constraints of women is a theme that runs along side the romantic story in Frenchman’s Creek and is in much of Daphne du Maurier’s work. Both Dona in Frenchman’s Creek and Janet Coombe in The Loving Spirit wish that they could be men with the freedom to sail a ship and live an independent life and this theme recurs many times in Daphne’s books; as did the desire for freedom and independence in her own life.

There are a number of opinions as to why Daphne wrote this type of book and indeed why she wrote it at that time and the most popular view is that it was written as pure escapism from the war. Other opinions suggest that her long and happy association with Frenchman’s Creek, firstly with her friend Lady Clara Vyvyan, on whose land the creek was situated and then later as her honeymoon destination with Tommy, brought out the romance and secrecy of the setting from which the story developed.

While Daphne was staying at Langley End it is said that she developed a romantic attachment for Christopher Puxley. Tommy was away for much of the time and on his brief visits he was understandably tired, tense and unable to switch off from his war work. In contrast Christopher was always there, willing to play the piano for Daphne or talk and spend time with her. It is supposed that this relationship may have manifested itself in the story of Frenchman’s creek with Christopher as the pirate who captivates Dona after she had escaped from Harry in London. It is certain that Daphne must have spent a considerable amount of time with Christopher, because her next novel was the epic saga of five generations of the Puxley family in Ireland, fictionalised into Hungry Hill.

If you want to recommend the best actress to act the roles of Mary Slessor or Mattie Terri Shackelford, who would you recommend as your first choice?
If you have to choose between Julia Roberts and Tara Fitzgerald, who would you choose?

Sunday, September 11, 2005

We Will Never Forget! Never Ever!


Will you remember me on every 9/11?
Will you light a candle for me?
For without the light we cannot see
What mortal eyes have never seen.

No. Don't weep for me anymore
No. Don't pray for the dead.
For the dead do not need your prayers.

"What I had, I lost; what I saved, I spent; but what I gave, I have."
-Mattie Terri Shackelford

We Will Never Forget
No! Never ever.
Though the scarlet memories may linger
Though the flowers may wither
But we will never forget
Until this world will be no more.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Don't Weep For Me America

Don't weep for me America
For I can no longer bear the sight of your tears
The tears you have been shedding all these years.
Do not look at me gnashing your teeth and shaking your heads
I would rather see you down on your kness reading your beads.
And do not count the corpses washed ashore from the Mississippi
For who will count the ones that were washed away beyond the sea.
Do not pour coals of fire on my lion hearted sons
For the Lioness is the mother of the lions.
Don't weep for me America
For the rancour of your acrimony
Are more harrowing than the tears of my agony.
For the lamentations of my daughter Neworleans
Are the lamentions of her scarlet tribulations.
The scarlet tribulations of her scarlet sacrifices
The scarlet sacrifices of her endurance
For she has suffered great injustice.
The great injustice of your bloody vices.
Don't weep for me America.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Vena Amoris,

There are so many things you are ignorant of my love.
Do you now why my heart beats faster at the sight of you?
Do you know why we feel so warm when we sit up close.
Remember the first time I kissed you on the street
And you raised up one of your feet.
Do you know why?

Vein of Love
Did you know

Why you hold my hand when we cross the road?
Do you know why you look for me when you don't see me?
Do you know why you don't like to see me holding other babes?
Do you know why I am still single?

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Love Is What She Wants Most.

I threw the Kinsey Sex Report on her laps
I aimed it directly at between her legs.
She looked at the cover and sighed.
"So, Kinsey wants to find out what women want?"
I nodded in reply.
She smiled like a virgin who was feeling shy.
A woman is at first shy. But later becomes sly.
She looked up at me with her lips apart.
I bent down and sealed up her mouth with my mouth.
She moaned and pulled me down to her topless body.
And stamps of her red lips were all over my white shirt.
I whispered into her ears my unchained melody
And she closed her eyes and made some sounds with her teeth.
Whilst I played with her ears and tickled her armpits.
Then, I ran my fingers through her slits.
"Tell me what you want."
"I want you forever."
For better for worse.
Our love will see us through.
"I thought you wanted the divorce?"
"Divorce can go to hell."
"Our Love is heaven on earth."
And together on the bed, we forgot all about the troubles in the world.
For love is all that we need and love is all that she wants most.
Even, when all other possessions are lost.
True love remains at last.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

She Came In The Rainfall

True-life story.
In memory of Ken Sao-Wiwa the unforgettable martyr of the Ogoni Kingdom who would have loved this story.

It was Thursday, April 21, 2005.
It was a wet morning on Bonny Island.
It was raining. But it was not a thunderstorm.
The doorbell rang.
“It’s aunty Joy!” Grace announced as she rushed to the door.
All my younger sister’s children always rejoice whenever she comes to visit us.

Yes, she came in the rainfall.
Her oval head was covered with thick curly Afro hair reminding me of Maya Angelou in the 1960s. And she could as well be reminding me of “Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”. But she was not a caged bird. She was as free as the birds flying all over the trees on Bonny Island. She works here in the Nigeria LNG Residential Area as a housekeeper for the young Dutch couple. And she often comes to visit us carrying Daniel their cherubic looking baby boy with golden hair. He was a cute looking one year old. She is always welcomed. So, I was pleased to see her walking into our living room. She was radiant in her Afro, wearing a blue silk blouse and black knee – length skirt and brown slippers. Joy is the classic black and beautiful African maiden. She is sultry and sexy in her gait. I admired her as she came and sat down on the settee opposite the one where I sat flipping through two of the most successful newspapers in Nigeria. The Guardian and This Day. But sometimes I wonder if I have to get a magnifying glass to be able to read them. The letters are like digits and they are like photocopies. The Nigerian Press should be as good as the ones in Europe, America, Japan and China. Advanced technology in modern printing should not be a novelty in 21st century Nigeria. We should be as good as any press in the developed countries of the world.

She is Joy Dereyenrobari the daughter of Affi of Bomu village of Gokana in Ogoni kingdom the native land of Ken Saro-Wiwa.

I love the Ogonis since I have known them years ago and Saro- Wiwa was going to publish my anthology of poems before he was hanged on November 10, 1995. And on mentioning Ken Saro-Wiwa, she was silent for some minutes. And I could see her swallowing lumps of saliva.
“Oh! The day Ken Saro-Wiwa died. There was no noise in the whole of Ogoni kingdom. Not even the fowls made a sound. There was silence everywhere. The whole Ogoni was like a graveyard. Then, they came,” she was recalling the nightmarish incident.
“Who came?” I asked.
“The MOPOL. The anti-riot mobile police troop invaded our villages and were on rampage like demons in black and gray uniform and jackboots, brandishing AK 47 rifles and sub machine guns. They ransacked our homes and assaulted our girls and women. I was only 14 then. We ran and fled into the mangrove swamps to escape from being raped by the wicked policemen. But the unlucky ones were seized and raped. Even the married women were also raped and their husbands were held back at gunpoint from defending their wives. Those who dared to stand in their way were shot and killed,” Joy narrated their ordeals to me in sober mood.
I listened quietly.
“They went about stealing our goats and tubers of yam and they slaughtered the goats, cooked the yam and had feasts in our villages before they left. They occupied Ogoni kingdom for months. And we were treated like their slaves and like prisoners of war during their illegal occupation of our kingdom,” she said plaintively.
I swallowed lumps of saliva and sighed.

The military junta had sent troops to Ogoni kingdom to seize those who would dare to revolt in protest of the execution of Ken Saro-Wiwa and the eight martyrs. They feared that the people would avenge their death. But they were too heart broken to even raise any hand in rebellion. Naturally the Ogonis are peaceful and they abhor violence. But, they also abhor injustice and that was what Ken Saro-Wiwa and the other Ogoni martyrs sacrificed their precious lives for.
In his closing address to the tribunal, Saro-Wiwa stated:
"I repeat that we all stand before history. My colleagues and I are not the only ones on trial. Shell is here on trial and it is as well that it is represented by counsel said to be holding a watching brief. The Company has, indeed, ducked this particular trial, but its day will surely come and the lessons learnt here may prove useful to it for there is no doubt in my mind that the ecological war that the Company has waged in the Delta will be called to question sooner than later and the crimes of that war be duly punished. The crime of the Company's dirty wars against the Ogoni people will also be punished."

“The day Ken Saro-Wiwa came to Gokana, there was a great gathering of all the people to see him. And I was looking for him on the podium,” Joy said amusingly.
“You couldn’t see him?” I asked.
“I had to stretch my neck to catch a glimpse of the short man with his pipe in his mouth and his moustache twitching as he spoke to us. It was a great rally and I will never forget that day,” she said.

The Ogoni Kingdom will never forget the nine martyrs and the others who have sacrificed their lives for their motherland. And the courage of the Ogonis has made me to love them more than ever before. Yes, I support their just cause. But, I want them to make peace with the Shell Petroleum Development Company and join the rest of Nigeria in nation building. I want them to bury the machete. Make peace and not war.

I looked at her unique facial features. Looking at her long straight nose, deer-like brown eyes eliciting love and sympathy and her small lips. She was attractive. But, I couldn’t touch her. Because, a little touch could lead to other sensitive interactions.
“What of that your sister?” Joy asked.
I knew whom she meant.
Patricia. The sly girl that was pretending to be shy and obtained my love by lying to me.
“I have dropped her. She was not the kind of woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. She had no character and she was insecure and a liar. And worst of all. She had inferiority complex. Since, I did not want to be miserable the rest of my days on earth, I had to flee from the nightmare,” I said. And waved the object of my disdain off in absolute dismissal.
Joy laughed.
She wanted to know if I was still involved or not. And I wanted to let her know that the coast was clear.
She smiled. And I could see that she was now more comfortable and relaxed.
It was now drizzling.
I sat back and admired her. I started thinking of the possibilities of a romantic summer.
Who does not want joy in this turbulent life?
Uncle Ken Saro-Wiwa would have loved to hear that I am falling in love with an Ogoni maiden. He would have smiled and tapped his pipe.
“I will put it in my pipe and smoke it,” he would have said to me.

Just this morning Joy came again in the rainfall.
She told me the good news.

Joy is wedding at the end of this month on September 29, 2005. And all the friends of Ogoni kingdom are invited to the traditional Ogoni Wedding in her Bomu village of Gokana in the Ogoni Kingdom in the Niger Delta of Nigeria.

I thank God I did not have any relationship with her. Because, if I did, she would have been trapped and wouldn't have been able to get over the hangover.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Beyond the Sea

(I am dedicating this my poem in memorial tribute to all those who died in the New Orleans catastrophe of Hurricane Katrina.)

I see beyond the sea
What only my eyes can see.

I have swam in the rivers
And I waded through the streams
Now I want to sail across the great waters
Sailing to the shores of my dreams.

Now, I remember what Mama said.
As I wept on the bed where she was laid.
“We will not pick cotton in heaven
And there is no Uncle Tom’s cabin and no Uncle Sam’s coven.”
Then, Mama whispered to me, “We will all be well.
When all the bad people have gone to hell.”

I see castles in the clouds
In the clouds where heaven lies
Where no one dies.
There I see the gathering crowds
And they are beckoning at me
To join them in the land beyond the sea.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The World is full of Beautiful Women

Give me Christy Zhong anyday anytime. And I will give thanks to God.
God is awesome in all His creations. And I thank God for beautiful women.

The World is full of Beautiful Women

There are two women in the world that you need to hold me like a dog on a leash to keep me away from going after them.
Eva Longaria and Christy Zhong.

I mean if I am attached to Eva and I find myself with Christy on an Island, it will take divine intervention to stop me from going after her.

I have a passion for beauty and the epitome of beauty drives my genius. To be classic is romantic and to be romantic is classic.

I have retreated to an Island to save myself from sexual harassment.
The fact is I love beautiful women and beautiful women love me.
I am walking tall, tanned brown and very virile.
My best assets are my starry brown eyes and the other is anybody's guess.

Once upon a time, I had 22 young women as my regular companions. When I was younger, I had to play the monk to avoid any relationship with them. But, some girls broke the out of bounds rule and always came to help my mother at home. One girl visited me over 190 times until I decided to visit her. And she was as sexy as Christy Zhong and I had my own versions of Eva Longaria and Sharon Stone.

The hottest of them all was NG Baby who was too hot and we were both on fire. We made love from under the staircase to the stairs to the living room to the bedroom. Then, I took her to our church and I was warned to stop sleeping with her. That was on January 1st, 1999. And in fear of God I obeyed. But, I had close encounters with some of the hottest babes in town between 1999 and 2004. I remember when one very attractive young mother pleaded that I should make love to her on one of the Valentine Days. I had the day all planned out with my Valentine, one of the most beautiful princesses in Nigeria who is also a brilliant attorney. I cooked and set the table for her whilst she stretched out on the couch like Venus. Then, this young mother came unannounced and I politely took her into the study. She wanted to be laid on the table. But, I planted a kiss on her lips and told her that sleeping with her would be wrong. She refused to leave and the princess was disappointed. But, I was even happy that I was prevented from sleeping with her. Because, if I had done it, I would have continued. Because, the princess is very sexy and would be a perfect wife for any man.

Being attractive and doing my best to be a good Christian is equally romantic. But, I have to keep away from frequenting the beaches, swimming pools and outdoor games. Many babes have concluded that I am in love with myself. But, God knows I am not. Imagine, having 12 regular female friends always visiting you and each one wants you to sleep with her. To keep yourself from sleeping with anyone of them since 1999 to date is not easy. The sooner I get married permanently the better. Celibacy is not for me. I love to love and to be loved heart and soul.

You cannot avoid sex if you frequent places where girls and women are always displaying their sexuality at the beaches and swimming pools. I have the luck of being close to the most sought after models in Nigeria. Because, I operated a modelling agency and was the editor of a fashion and society magazine. So, most of the models have never left me. And naturally girls and women love any man who appreciates them and wants the best for them. I mean what you sow is what you reap.

Christy is too hot to behold.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Come Osama, Come Katrina. America Will Never Fall

Come Osama, come Katrina. America Will Never Fall

Come Osama, come Katrina.
America will never fall.
Come the insane, come the hurricane
America will always prevail.

Come what may
Even, if all our precious possessions are washed away
Even if all our treasures are washed down the drain
Yet, like the Phoenix the American eagle will rise again.
Even, if the hailstones keep falling
We will keep the Stars and Stripes still flying.

From the debris of New Orleans
I see the new roses as they blossom
And I see the new roses in bloom.
I join them as they dance and rejoice in the ballroom
I hear the voices ringing
Like the angels are singing