Take me home
Take me home
Where your elders
Can see our love
Stash me not away from the sky
Where your elders we say
I am not a highbrow suitor
As my elders
Known everything
About our relationship
Drop on my radio
This is hard to believe
Better believe it because it is the truth of life
That water has no hands
But drag sands with arms of energy
And ripples created far away on the airwaves
Became the love doctor
That fall in love with the heart of man.
I am handsome, craving
But cannot stitch woo on a lady’s ears
Those who I desire are short-sighted
They called me a penniless boy
Forgotten that I am a classical poet
Without you
Without you
My love would have slept alone in a desert
I would have seen you on the street
Without knowing that we are meant for each other
Without you
I would have flown away like a bird without a nest
I would have been in those fruitless places
Nursing hope on how to behold an angel like you
Man and a shadow of himself
These are the stories that have been written in the palm of time down to the era of modern civilisation: oppression, deception, wretchedness, adversity, supremacy, war, mystery, and ism of diabolical realms. That advancement in every research and technological innovation had led to gladiolus eruption in manipulation and bombardment. That peace is rent apart and trouble laughs with spears of joy, invading towns and cities with axe of drunkenness and rewarding the innocent with the merit of pain. Those disciplines, values, and integrity had been bastardised and eroded in nearly all zones of life. That high and low want to live and reign like the Mighty, created confusion and cause the victim to witness boldness in affliction every day. That children and their landlords became fugitives, migrated beyond their coasts, crack the walls and flow helplessly in different directions. Oppression and conquest make the villain a hero and the world with its coning excuses smiles on
Gentle gin
Gentle I go
When her glimpse
Attracted my coming back.
Gentle I laid
Hand round her shoulder
And felt the surrounding with lust.
Knight of Gold
I came back home and retired to my couch
Walking on a deviant road
Which seemed exciting but weary like a long voyage
I saw one imp spiteful like an inferno
That suddenly changed into three dragons
Their eyes were frightened and anxious like lion claws
I appeased the land with three white doves
And struck the ground with my staff
Arms of the wind took me to the end of a quiet road
Where I came face-to-face
With four doors made of silvery feathers
Huge and smiling like eyes of moonlight
Moonlit Daughter
Hello dear moon
Aged long sitting on a lush soil
And gentle like a breath of life.
Send me your content
That wield children firmly to grandma’s tales
And stick adults to gourds of palm wine.
Yesterday you are absence
I kept you pounded yam and vegetable bush meat soup
But you didn’t come home to eat them.
Accident of Fate
If every woman is a concubine of pain
My mother is that everyone –
A shepherdess flocks of pain.
Barely each day gone by without her back
Become animal skin that pastes on a mahogany tree
And beat every day with maestro-stroke of shame.
When you ask who can dance most in public places
Set a cause of rev for her husband
And let his conductor stick direct the pace of tempo
As her waist and legs muddy in eruption