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poetry
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THE TRIPOD
WHEN GIRLS PONDER Does he find me pretty? Am I sexy enough to grace the cover page of his DP? Does he ever fantasize about me? And did he ever wish I was skinny or plumpy No seriously Am I the only girl he double-taps for Or am I number 4 in the list...
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POCKET OF INTENTIONS
I have a pocket full of intentions Lots of things to say and questions to ask But if you were here, these I would do everyday I would say those 3words over and over again if they make you feel better I would roll over my saliva, tongue twist, bit my lips...
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SLAVE-PRICE
I am the new slave of the century And silence is my voice My lips have been sealed with selotep of fear And only my kind see my heavy chains So why should I raise alarm? I was present when he handed over those cowries clothed in costumes of a bride-price...
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HEART STEWARDS
She’s just too beautiful Her eyes are two bright stars on a scary midnight And the retinas in them are waves giving signals to the antennas of every other Adam she sets eyes on She has dimples Deep enough to hide her frowns when she stretches her jawbones...
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THE FACIAL ARTIST
She’s a facial artist And she sees her face as building A building she restarts every morning after collapse She’s a one man squad And her foundations never seem strong enough to bear the weight of bricks as blushes The roof shaped curves over her lashes...
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FEOTUS TERMINUS
Mother do not deny me my fundamental human rights to life For I deserve same as yours Do not deprive me the essence of life’s privileges And use not my cradle blood as paint over this hospital walls For my demise will not dilute the pain you feel now...
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THE VAL SERMON
They say this day was made to spread love to those who deserve it Made for those special people who held the capsules of our heart in their medicated hands But it’s a bit awful that mankind misinterprets love as juice berries hung in skirts and skinny...
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THE BEEHIVE
She is honey Vicious sweet fluid produced from the nectar of God’s hands Chased by bees as men who come buzzing in sounds of love both fiction and real With proboscis as in-betweens dying to taste of their substance And it’s sad enough that some honey’s...
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WHAT ARE POEMS?
A poem is a modern day sermon I don’t expect to be ignored And what is the use if my poem makes no meaning to the people who read it What is the essence if I let them roam in a field of confusion after finding the compass of my words? What are poems if...
