PEN PLANET

Pterosaur: could they fly as soon as they hatched Pterosaurs were the first vertebrates to attain powered flight, and lived between 228 and 66 million years ago. They aren't on the line to modern birds, which evolved well after pterosaurs appeared, and they appear to have gone extinct without leaving descendants. Often called "pterodactyls" or "flying dinosaurs", they weren't really in the group that included dinosaurs. As you almost certainly know, they looked like this: (from  Wikipedia ): While learning about these creatures this morning, I found that some of them were huge—as big as giraffes when they stood upright! One of them,  Quetzalcoatlus northropi ,  had a wingspan of up to 16 meters, or 52 feet!  Here's some diagrams of that creature (the first two are from  Wikipedia ): It was a big as a small plane! Here's a comparison of  Q. northropi  with a Cessna 172 light aircraft: Ambling about on four limbs, they are estima

Harvest in the sun Basket are dancing on the head of big children, The vegetation and the deadlock The fear of the season and the razing in sun, Big children with bigger laughing mouth, With hoes and cutlass Ready to damage the fucking crops. Their heart are strong, And their face are bitter. This is a tournament between good and evil, All individual within this state, Putting on the helmet of war, Ready to damage the fucking crops. Their hands are wild, And their face smoke weeds. They set their feet upon the bottomless pit of the world. New born babies on the horizon, Shattered heart and grievance, No telephone call, no techno-or-logic. Men with grown hair And wild bones, Ready to damage the fucking crops. The booted men high their moral, While the aged drum the native drum, And woman with naked heart dancing. Innocent souls weeping a salty water, Their heart are broken like glass into pieces, And their tong

THE SURVIVOR Read also: A saint (poem by Olagunju Yen) With time things will get better, I cry, I scream, I’m peter. They say with time the rough play will go off soon, I smiled, I laugh, I’m cool. I’m getting older, every seconds I count. The forest has been cut away, Animals can now run a way. I’m afraid of going out,, I’m afraid of who I will see. I’m afraid I knew I can’t escape, I’m afraid, I don’t want to die. I’m afraid, I don’t want to open my eyes, I’m afraid of what I will see, Afraid of what I will dream, I’m afraid, I don’t want to cry. Sweat mingles with tears, As it falls on my cheeks I taste the dust in the air, In red moon and cold sun I fear. At five am, before the clock knock at six, Two hours after the hour was seized, Soft bone and wild bones became enemy. I’m afraid I can’t wait, I’m afraid death is not my fate. Thanks for visiting

Little by little it all begun; The bad side of the sun, Cross over the isles of our land. With fear and purity we stand, In the shadow of beauty, benith all evilness lies our path. The thirsty throat of our mourning mouth, Tasted from the bitterness of every morning leaves, The roars of little lion has broken the crown of our head, Citizens who ran out of their inhabited homes were turned into ashes, Hot tears of our eyes is helpless, But it strenghtened us to clear our rashes. Cameral of the lord rolling in action, Watching the steps of our fighting soldiers. I was sitting on a stone closed to a corner, To watch in His view, And to deliver the few. I’m a witness of war, yet, i’m not a warrior. Olagunju Josh Olayemi ©2018

Listen to me, For I have seen what you haven’t see, I’m black I know my mother, I’m the first son of my father. In the beginning, God said let there be, And there was me, I became the first man, To be created by Him. I call on you, For I have seen my brothers been tortured, I come to you, To free my sisters from affliction. If it’s for your labour, I will unburdened you, And give you rest eternally. In me, dwells happiness, I’m void of sadness. I pity my brothers arm in weight humiliation, In splendid loneliness amidst white and faded flowers. Our mouth tasted from the perilous salt of deforestation, Our great bushes and gigantic trees, Turned into the Main-way for railways. The big tree with herbal leaf turned into white leaves. This table set before us is temptation, We were tempted to bleed in blue blood, I’m tempted, I held red blood dripping cold. Our hands no longer hold: The dog’s blood, the bull’s blood and the goat’s blood. Oh! Mother of earth, Save your sons

The wind has blown, The tree now leaves us. Our body is cold, The fire now eat us. Come back to us and back our front, Come back and show to us your white and black. We’ve heard enough; Enough of the screeching sound of affix, Our eyes most be clear soon a must, Cleared like the sparkling crystal-line of axes. Come back to us and front our back, Come back and show to us your black and white. Hours of wickedness noun, Turned to weak-end-less now. Evenings of night, may turn to light verb-noun, Come now and let our nights night lite, And let our light light ninth. Come back to us and back our front, Come back and show to us your white and black. I plead on you; To hearken to this harmonious susurrations, Hearken now to keep us bound to each other, Like the coalesce bound of morphemes. ©2018

My child do not cry, Your mother will surely come back. Look up but not to the sky, Your mother dwell not in the dark. Black and white are one a colour, In the time of prime they obeyed the crime, This fate and the path are sincerely yours, All that go must surely come, Life and death will surely meet. My child do not weep, All that give most surely take, They that teaches most surely learn, Life and death are not the same, One most die to meet the dead. Cry and cry off my child! If you must cry to dark your ears, To and fro you must walk in your tears, For dry bones to live again. Weep long for long my child. Your mother will not be born again, Patient be Patience, the soon will soon moon, And the sun will soon shine.

Men are wicked and deceitful, They are hungry and never satisfied, They eat even without table manner, They chum the food in the plate and leak the plate with their wild tongues. Have you ever ask yourself why they always go up and down on the street? Men are always searching for something, I mean, men are always going somewhere. They knew she will be there. They cry in a silent voice, Once they saw their target, They whispered and gazed, Their inner eye become so tiny. They will pause their shoulder high, Like the breast of a young girl, They will walk in a staggering movement, Their trousers almost fallen their bums, They knew she was only but sixteen. She saw them looking at her, Not her face particularly, But her upper hills, And her lower strine. She was lost in thoughts, ( she has never experienced hardness in her life) She was walking reluctantly, Her legs almost crossing each others path, At last she fell! They(men) ran up to her like hungry lion running to its

“plain world” Thou sayest, “Diary” But she calls it plain world She prayed, cried,sob bitterly She failed At first,conforted Neglected thereafter. Heaven’s fall apart Rejected there-in Lonely spirit weep Smiles: hope remains Spies came Hmm,alerted enemies smiles Sobber laughter leads d way Liquor makes the day Moon watched in dismay. Smiles:his majesty ways are unimaginable She craved to rise She won Heaven’s smiles at her Because her transparency speak for her. By: theaestheticsofmylines

Don’t think I don’t know you, You want to pass by all means, You eat and escape meals, If I start mentioning names, Your name will be bold in the frame. Don’t think I don’t know you. You are a teacher you know? You are the head of corruption in your school, You’re initially fragile, yet your face looks so cool, Am bringing to you , the harvest of your corruption. You are no saint, You haven’t got any holiness, Your steps can be retraced. I’m watching you in reverse, I read through your last verse, It is stainfully oozing into a malodorous excrescence. Your conscience is now telling you your faults, You have thought the young students how to make hays In no sunshine, You’ve thought them how to have As, With nothing upstairs. The blame is on you, Because you sold the truth and push the light. They thought you’re helping them, But you’re giving them a result they can never defend. Bribery and corruption dwells in your heart! What a great loss! vanity upon vanity all is vanity.

50 LITERARY TERMS ALL LITERATURE LITERATE SHOULD KNOW Every aspect of life has its own vocabulary. Jargon, lingo and terminology which is essential to function in that field of expertise and appear credible to those around you. As an English teacher, literature literate, tutor or even a student there are some essential terms required to run and participate in an effective English class. Knowing these literary terms and their meanings will greatly enhance your students learning opportunities and enhance your own professional understanding of your craft. Hopefully, you already know most of these but here is the definitive list of what you need to know in order to ‘walk the walk, and talk the talk’ as a quality English teacher Accented: a word, syllable, or musical note or chord) stressed or emphasized. Allegory: A story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one. Alliteration: The occurrence of the same letter or sound

African literature , the body of traditional oral and written literatures in Afro-Asiatic and African languages together with works written by Africans in European languages. Traditional written literature, which is limited to a smaller geographic area than is oral literature, is most characteristic of those sub-Saharan cultures that have participated in the cultures of the Mediterranean. In particular, there are written literatures in both Hausa and Arabic, created by the scholars of what is now northern Nigeria, and the Somali people have produced a traditional written literature. There are also works written in Geʿez (Ethiopic) and Amharic, two of the languages of Ethiopia, which is the one part of Africa where Christianity has been practiced long enough to be considered traditional. Works written in European languages date primarily from the 20th century onward. The literature of South Africa in English and Afrikaans is also covered in a separate article, South African literatu