Adamu Lives
Adamu lived in a bungalow,
Together with his parents.
He never was hungry
And was contented with the little they had.
He was the best in his class
And he often bagged the best of results.
He was a jovial boy who always had something to say
He longed to be a writer
So he could write to the world
About his country and peaceful hometown
He often wrote happy poems for both his parents
And recited them with Taju
While they walked back from church
Adamu lives in a camp
With strangers he never knew.
He is always hungry
And can't get enough
Everyone calls him stupid
Because he is always gloomy
And has nothing to say.
He writes on walls
And on every rock he can find
About his country and the terror grazing his hometown.
He also writes to his deceased parents
And thinks of Taju
While he walks back from prayers
Held under a mango tree.
Beautiful Reaper
The glow that dances off my skin. When I smile it’s like the ray from the sun,bright.
I speak to you ever so softly. You can not help but to be at peace with me.
My voice softly tell you it’s time. Then your soul leaves your shell and travels well in to the great beyond.
All of this happens so fast. Your family will greaves, but you are at peace.
They will soon find peace with you moving on. They have no idea how free you are.
How the pain no longer take over your body. Pain was your life and now heaven is your sweet price.
He sends his family one last sign. Letting them know that everything is alright!
At his funeral there was rain at first and out of no where the sun came out and a rainbow.
His family just smiled and no longer felt the emotion of sadness but, a strong since of peace.
Now he is allowed to sleep!
My Love For The Dark
I once came across a wise man speaking
but all he said was nothing.
I guess that’s why he is so wise
because he knows nothing.
It must be difficult to speak
when you know nothing.
Now I am trying to speak
through my outspoken silence,
for all to hear and see
how it feels to be me.
How I forget all important events
and keep to heart my irrelevant crosses.
Things like the colour of the sun
while i ran for my life sixteen years ago
or the expression on John’s face
when he had to leave his parents at a tender age.
How it feels to relate to sadness
faster and better than to gladness.
Though I do have happy moments
but they all become blurry some days to come.
My psychologist told me
that bad memories are difficult to erase,
even to the very day you answer to death.
I guess that’s why I stay plugged in
to strong dark lyrics whenever i am down
in order to catch the feeling
that i am not alone in this situation.
My Uncle told me not to get married
but guess what? He is married.
Every one gives advice
but does the direct opposite.
It must be really easy to spit than to swallow.
Therefore, I sit alone at the middle of the night,
with my dark eyes staring into the thin air
because that’s when everything becomes so clear.
When the cool wind whispers into my ears.
then I see my friend
who drives away my fears.
Little wonder i keep to myself
because the only one who understands me,
comes very late at night.
There and then we speak
the only language we have ever understood... SILENCE
Hair
There once was a girl in Barbados
Who envied her sister’s hair.
She herself wasn’t pretty,
As plain as a pear,
Oh, but she wished herself fair.
In town she heard tale of a witch
Who lived somewhere south in her lair.
It was said she had magic
Most others would scare,
But a wish she could grant, if you dared.
So off in the night the girl went
And found the old witchdoctor’s lair.
“Oh please,” said she,
“My own hair is dull,
And my sister’s cannot be compared!”
The witch coughed a throaty old laugh
And winked an odd eye at her plea,
“Bring her,” said she,
“It’s a simple revision,
If you give me a proper fee.”
“I’ve nothing to give,” said the girl in tears,
“I’ve no gift nor coin to offer.
Is there anything else,
Some food, or some wine,
I can give you instead to be proper?”
“Never mind gifts,” the witchdoctor answered,
“I’ve no use for coins or meals.
Some wine would be nice,
But not for this vice,
When you come, I will ask for my deal.”
So back the girl went to her sister
And sought out the witch the next night.
“What are we doing?”
Asked the dear sister,
“It’s cold and these woods are a fright!”
They soon found the witchdoctor’s hut,
And saw she made two straw dolls.
“These are for you,”
The witchdoctor chuckled,
“Now watch as I fix your qualm!”
They jumped as she tore the straw heads
And switched the dolls’ bodies anew.
Their own heads followed suit,
And they screamed a high tune,
Throats crooked and stitched all askew.
“Now for my fare,” the witchdoctor heckled,
“You’ve gotten your beautiful hair.
All I ask is your service,
From now till the End,
Until Death meets me, if He dares.”
The Night Sun
Dragging our bruised feet on the field of stones.
Dashing our heads from poles to poles.
Walking round circles,
ending at the very beginning.
Silent sob and endless groaning.
Then a light penetrated our tears,
emitting a rainbow overshadowing our fears.
Who parents this light that tames?
Oh! From the Sun of the night, it came.
Who is this night Sun so bright?
It is our Saviour, Jesus Christ!
Serpent seed in the belly of the beast...
To every Adam and every Eve/please oh please/be weary of the fruit from the tree/the one from which you long to eat/see the serpent knows it grows from a forbidden seed/yes it’s easy to a lie believe/even easier to with a lie deceive/one in the same? I tend to disagree/sometimes too far we allow ourselves to over reach/in hopes to attain what ends that feeling of incomplete/I’ll do my best to keep it brief, simple and sweet/when explaining what I mean with the answers you seek/perhaps you want what you can’t have cos you already have everything you need/so claim your pardon, come back to the garden, from which you had to flee/amongst the displaced, all across the face, scattered like debris/return back to the luscious green relief awaits from all your grief/prodigal sons and daughters we are all indeed/stardust in every drop of blood we bleed/yeah I know right now times may seem bleak/but you’ve come too far now to backwards retreat/no good to you tho is my belief/your own is your ticket to peace/happiness can knock but may not enter when the door is locked and only you have the key/so much to still achieve/harvests to reap/decrease the tares from the wheat/til ready here we’ll be waiting in the belly of the beast...
Reconsider
Giving a person the benefit of the doubt.
This can’t be my life ?
When I give all of me and I receive some of you.
I think you and I never were meant to be.
Walking up the stairs to no where.
Driving down a dead end.
Beating a dead horse.
I will no longer stay on this course!
Everyone love you, but I see the real you.
Making me feel like something was wrong with me when all along it was you.
I’m so over you, tired of you and about to say forget you.
Really I don’t need you!
GLORY!
He pulled the chains in frustration. Ah! How in the cosmos had he even been captured? He heard a soft chuckle coming from the shadows. Of course, he lost his wings~ his mind was next.
A disguised, masked figure apppeared in a dark crimson garment. The being clapped his hands and laughed.
The prisoner bent his head and sighed. This place was driving him crazy.
Then he heard the cloaked figure’s footsteps moving toward him in a gentle tap.
When he looked up, the figure was staring, as if looking for something, in his eyes.
Crimson cloaked figure: (cackles) Muahahah! Oh, my dear...Zahari.
The angel gaped. How did this shadow or cloaked being know his name?
Cloaked figure: Eh, don’t worry. You have nothing to fear. Help will be on the way.
Zahari: (tries to pull his chains)
The figure looks at Zahari with a heavy heart. It stares at the angel’s bruises all over his body. And the great scars left on his back where his wings wemore supposed to be. What a state for Zahari to be in.
Zahari closed his eyes and whispered something to himself.
The cloaked figure being ever curious, moved much closer to Zahari. Eager to listen to what the angel had to say.
Zahari: Voice rise. Come forth gentle wind. Carry it with the breeze. Off to the one who’ll set me free. Send this plea to her. Thee star to which I know is always burning bright. O, hear my cry. I have hope, and believe that I will return soon.
cloaked figure: (smiles) it’s like i said, Zahari. You should not lose faith. Help is on the way.
Zahari opened his eyes. He looked around. The cloaked figure faded back into the shadows, leaving Zahari to still wonder if he had totally gone mad at this point. And if she had heard his call, the cloaked being was right. He should not lose any hope. Help was on the way.
He moved his head upwards searching for the only space of light coming through a crevice. Zahari smiled. Yes, he still had hope.
#GLORY!
The Horror of 12 Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas, my former soon to be ex-wife gave to me,
divorce papers with a capital D.
On the second day of Christmas my landlord gave to me,
my thirty-day eviction notice.
On the third day of Christmas my best friend gave to me,
a black eye for no real reason.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my doctor said to me,
“Son, this needle won’t hurt in your ass but just a second.”
On the fifth day of Christmas I didn’t know what to do,
so I drank five pints of Johnny-Walker red.
On the sixth day of Christmas I was really in a jam,
as six gang members chased me down the street.
On the seventh day of Christmas things were getting worse,
seven old girlfriends showed up to give me hell.
On the eighth day of Christmas, it didn’t get much better,
eight jury members voted to have me forced to leave the state.
On the ninth day of Christmas on a Greyhound bus,
the driver pulled over and eight screaming people telling me I had to walk.
On the tenth day of Christmas where no place nowhere was in sight,
ten buzzards circled over top my head.
On the eleventh day of Christmas while crawling on a hot sandy dessert,
my watch stopped working at eleven.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, gasping my last breath;
then thank goodness I finally woke up.
_______________
12/2/2018
10;39 p.m. - 10:48 p.m.