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poetry
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AN ODE TO THE AFRICAN GIRL
You were rich like crude oil An innumerable number of breathing glittering gold Your beauty was a silent sermon echoing through vast lands and kingdoms beyond You were a handful of dancing diamonds And those with sunlike skins always wished they possessed...
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THE EYE OF PERSPECTIVES 4
From the eye of a poet . The world is rhythmic in themes that are different in approach but as matching as a rhyme His story is an allegory that interprets the depth of human thought As he interprets his idea He puts on their shoes to feel, hear and see...
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JOY OF THE JU’S
They say we’re flat men Rough surfaces of inexperience We’re the social handicapped The bare faced definition of fear whose fate lie in the hands of the strong, the brave and the so called courageous For our lives are noting but tissue rolls and breath...
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THE EYE OF PERSPECTIVES 3
From the eyes of a writer The world is a book Filled with messages cropped up into numerous pages And every page carries a piece of message he expects man to read daily The pen is their voice And as they steadfastly shed ink by ink his screams grow louder...
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THE EYE OF PERSPECTIVES 2
From the eyes of an artist The world is a museum of artworks And it is to man what he makes of it His life is the paint brush And his deeds are the artwork at the end of the day So everyman is an artwork that gets finished immediately after their demise...
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THE WHOREHOUSE
She dances in the shadows As darkness is a word her syllabus are all way too familiar with She’s unstable like the climate And her forecast is nothing but thunder storms and little degrees of sunshine She hides behind the tower of her smile like Babel...
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THE EYE OF PERSPECTIVES 1
From the eyes of a singer The world is music Carefully arranged in choruses and stanzas Made possible with strings and keys, beats and drums And without them, life is baseless And as each chord progresses As the sound graduates to the moments of unknown...
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LETTER TO DEATH
You come guarded like an arms man Paying deaf ears to the reasons made by your victims You take who you delight in And it’s sad you’re never satisfied even when you get your fill You’re a glutton for corpses, both great and small You invade homes without...
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WHAT IS WRONG WITH BEING BLACK?
She handed me the book And its title became my muse As I stare at the cover page hoping to find answers to the question that marks an x on my chest What is wrong with being black? Why is my skin the color of crime? And why am I used as a case study for...
