LADY BUGS



Cladded in possible beauty,
cared or cherished no less.
Tendered with flowery duty;
still a Lady bugs regardless.

STONED MAN



If stones could speak
and use words like us,
show us what we seek
reveal what was a loss

Will we believe them,
listen to their wisdom?
Or maybe just like them
we are stoned at home.

RACING LIFE



Men are the price;
Women their prize.

Time the receiver;
Life, ultimate giver.

Living is a long race
Setting its own pace.

You start with a prize
before paying the price.




Inspired by @kelechi_eo

APRIL’S FOOLS



April is here,
and we’re fools again,
to the mystery of life’s gain.

Magnolias and hail
sweet longer evenings,
fills our time with musings.

Easter on the way
seduced by daffodils,
wonderfully time always refills.

Inspired by @gotnomoniker

RICH BAD STEW



When daily Life is Too Hot,
Who cares if home is a Pot?

We’re born to make Breath.
We are all groomed to Fight,
Schooled, cooked to Adapt

Nigeria is a pot of Rich Stew
Badly cooked by the rich Few.

HEADS OR TAILS


Toss the coin all your life,
Balance on edges of a knife.
Whither roam your own course
If life to you is just a lone farce.

Are you not lost in thought;
Like the canine who fought
His own tail round and round,
With its very head not sound?

EVERY WAR IS JUST A BATTLE



Old men always dream up wars,
To send more young men to die.
It’s been one of their flaws,
Will always be for it’s no lie.

The young always follow them;
For it’s their forte to be gullible.
Today’s young men,
Tomorrow’s old men

WORN NOT OUT

There’s a thing about every action
That speaks for every perception
And it tells it’s own unique story
Consciously archived in memory

Any wretched tale of denial,
Of disdained failure and trial,
Will reveal as a dogged bout
Of one toughened life time,
All worn through but not out.

SLUG


As we moan in our far watch;
Nagging our peopled conscience,
We miss out entirely that the catch
Is made up of all our overt nonsense.

A large rich island just drags on,
Not for the size it must always hug.
The bulk of it lost the very reason
Why rich minds will make it a slug.

FINE TIMES


Winners so abound,
Strapped and bounded.
Elated all around,
Joyously dumb-founded.

Those fine times
Speaks for all kinds.
Saying as do chimes,
That time do binds.

Rare times of winning
Brings forth the hidden.
Revealing all missing;
Like fingers in a mitten.

WHY SHE HAWKS

Why does time keep ticking,
never waiting or ever stopping?
Why does the air fill our lungs,
and we live, where we belong?

Why does mother work still,
while she looks like we all feel?
Why does she walk the street,
daily giving humility a new feet?

BREATHE



If you have a head ache
are you sick in the head?
When a body part break
does it mean it’s your end?

Take it a day at a time
each day again as bright
Chin up for it’s again fine
Just pause, chill and breathe.

BUDDIES

All buddies have a thing they do
That comes with time and trust
It is something they share too;
Something that can not be lost.

They could be more than two;
With more bodies than it cost.
Still they share something true,
They can’t say for sure or sort.

TOMORROW






And come
It home.

That window;
Our mirror.

It makes
As wakes.

Another date
For fate.

Another day.
Oops, away!

Lets pray
And say.

The morrow
Will show

Us about,
Run, shout;

Shoulders high,
Tomorrows here!

.

SOMEBODY’S MOTHER

There’s patience in every wait,
and really, nothing is ever late.
With time, effort and faith,
even a mountain is a gate.

Your pained toil is gone yonder,
it’s training carried you further.
Now that the biology is over,
Earn your pride as a mother.

HANDFUL OF CLAY



That simple deed you daily handle
Reveal so much about how you work.
Just as everybody carries their bundle
Of life’s joy and sorrow that will mock.

That piece of action you handle
Reveal your final piece of work.
Just like every artists’ own bundle
Of clay would praise and also mock.

AGE IS TIME

Age is not just a number
It is time and much more.
Age is a climbing descend,
And a diminishing ascend.

Age is a race with time!;
For and also against time.
One day young and on top.
next, old and about to drop.

THE WORLD IN A LITTLE ROOM


What you have seen before now
Is nothing like you will yet know.
Mountains higher than the clouds
Or galaxies from fictional worlds
Will flash before you in fast floods.

The breath of a lung transits
Or to anti-bodies a virus submits.
The skeleton of a lonely fetus,
As that of a Mammoth is shown us
And not a scene is ever a loss.

The Red sea had betrayed
The depths Egyptians embraced.
White Mountains of ice only
In the south pole melts slowly
As you watch it all so warmly.

Roof of this world up high
Marbles the earth down here.
Clusters of fish eggs hatches,
Soldier ant worker matches,
As its eyelids blinks its lashes.

The wedding of a Queens maid
Or a Roman shield in a pyramid.
A shark outwit a dozen sailors,
Unlike Caesar in a senate of traitors
Centuries ago showed their failures.

A terrorist and freedom fighter
Are both made a fire and its lighter.
A domesticated wolf devours a man,
For a just reason it is shown it can.
You enjoy the deserts heat under a fan.

Bloody vessels in vain roam a sea,
A ghost discusses and drinks tea.
The passengers of an old plane crash
Board same plane again and smash.
Wealth you see leaves you no cash.

Every conceivable game is played
By men, animals, plants displayed.
The thickest clouds parade the sky
On pillars Himalayans peak up high
Or over raging ocean waters they fly.

Dancing birds dressed up to mate,
Two collapsed towers dust their fate.
Deepest valleys in the ocean waters
Reveal their secrets nature alters,
Nothing else in the world matters.

Uproar of a stampede crowds on,
Boiling heat erupting within the sun.
Sudden death stills a pumping heart,
A sprints heat repeated from start,
The tracks appear your viewing mat.

Ash, gas and molten are experienced
Volcano erupts its bowels so tensed.
Frogs hopping on water incredibly,
Like a pebble tossed so skillfully.
Sand storms windowed luxuriously.

Satans countless personifications,
Lords every era that raped nations.
Dancers of every race, sort and style,
Every single bubble in a mug of ale.
You see the characters in every tale.

Sparingly dressed wives in a harem,
Cardinal’s son talk as you hear them.
A view beneath a standing Scots kilt,
Happenings in a billionaires treat.
Everything in sight, with every tilt.

Bullets leaving a steel chamber,
A pierced lung as all its air wonder.
Endless flocks of Pelicans go south,
Yellow Monarchs clouds flicker north
Their beauty fills the mind’s thought.

Angels shield a saint on a mission,
Nerves’ twitch response a decision.
Ant like pedestrians on a city street,
Unsympathetic, selfish, proud fleet
Leave tastes bitter, salty, sour, sweet.

Mans quest for unknown perfections
Blurs with omissions or commissions
Constructed aids in achieved means
Entertain, educate, inform all beings,
Yet humanity’s future it weans.

THE HENS ODD CHICK


The grass blades shake off droplets,
as she led on her mild yellow train.
Her own adorable dozen little pets,
squealing within their own tiny rain,
before the morning dew finally melts
and all the worms go deep down again.

She beaks a large borrowing worm
and they crowd round her as quick,
Wrestle the struggling stringy form
from her higher and bigger beak.
They pieces it all amongst their sum,
except again that weird odd chick.

Scratching off the sandy soil top
to pick and feed on the grains sort,
the serious Hen and her low troop;
all except that chick which does not.
Strangely though in a marshy mud top,
it walks easily as fed with its beak blunt.

Then it happens like it does always,
her dozen subtracts after and after.
At the stream where a worm ever plays,
danger is more and always there to alter.
The odd chick water takes in its ways;
Strangely it floats on, to the Hens whimper.

WOE MAN


Place of the woman is spent;
through timely cratered vent.
She’s raging in her eruptions;
in her hair raising formations.

Still her place further reduces;
within every gain she chooses.
She’s the lesser man as before,
her sex ever breeds a new woe.

TALE OF TWO PEOPLE


Up on the plateau they reigned,
Their own old clans so formed.
Hidden on the heights plain,
Living in plentys much rain.

They welcome guests well,
As prosperous strangers tell.
Soon dominance is so evident
And for the sold they want rent.

Wherever time is so kept,
Such a place has it since left.
Two is never again one unless
One is expunged and no less.

Identity established so firm,
Fights a war not for their farm.
Bullying their co-farmers yield
With poised spears and a shield.

THE SLEEPER


Why’ll this air carry a plane
And not carry me alone too,
Or indeed a speech in its vein
Across nothing instantly true.

Why will a big city of a ship
Sail oceans leagues in depth
And I sink in a pool as I sleep,
Like many tiny pebbles too wept.

I see no answer in practice
Or reason in their pattern.
Where a dream does surface,
There my sleep shows concern.

AFRICA


Darkest people ever found,
A huge pistol points wrong.
If here man got his sound;
Earth, Africa is your song.

AND WHAT A POOR SONG IT HAS THUS BEEN

WOUNDS OF THE WORLD


Visible cuts we saw,
Deep set and so raw.
It had the pretty torn
And the beholder run.

Worn with its pride
As any true bride.
A scar from a war
Is like a lions roar.

Not on Everests peak
Must anyone do seek,
For even on all hills
Are these worlds ills.

The baby that cries,
Steals away and tries;
To be his own parent,
Where he is only sent.

That spouse out back;
Behind one Holy Ark,
Leaves the same vow
Yet remains, some how.

They; as many, are
So near and not far.
Wounds made bold
In this very world.

RACES


They get set, ready and go.
To where? God only will know.
Revolting round earthly tracks
Which knows not their tasks.

Their quests are not visible
Or even humanly sensible.
Competing with complexions,
Hairs, noses and eyes in nations.

What wins these long races
That recognizes their faces,
Will not justify the future;
For races aren’t their nature.

DATE


Silly days made our teens,
sorting out our teething genes.
Over those moons, new till old,
our hormones shiver their cold.

Tasting all those many dishes;
many we met with their witches,
Others we borrowed and mended.
But lots we created and trended.

The sting of disappointments sore,
betrayal and pain and much more.
Ageing fear is sour but it is caught;
yet still we trove amidst same death.

To all morrows we cherished
that date we shared perished,
and thank it so for that spice
it puts into this new date so nice.

MOST LOST


Who says we are most alone
when we are with the most?
and all alone with its none;
enjoying life at its own worst?

Attempting to be on our own
we had often found its cost;
sought glories for the stone
and won prizes we had all lost.

PIGGIES


When I go to market, another stays at home.
If you had roast beef, another had the bone.
Funny how all cry (we); and still end with none.

ZOO KEEPERS


The chimps are gaily as will ever
As the fauna king will rule never.
Penned in a checkered metal home,
Their chatter roar a collective hum.

Huge trumpeters cupped for show
As archaic aquatic lizards flow.
Their mud puddles not more free
Than the walled rivers to be or see.

Eagle soars only in its mind
And serpents share their kind.
All the skies they see and saw
Lost like their choices as before.

CLOUDS OF SALT (Hadarin gishiri)


Skies are drumming,
The body joins in too.
Clouds are partying,
Invited winds are too.

The body is hurrying,
All corpses are met.
Real hot or chilling,
Salty must be wet.

Sama na kidi,
Jiki ya dauka.
Hadari na biki,
Ya gaiyache iska.

Jiki na sauri,
Kowa na mushe.
Ko zafi, ko dari,
Gishiri sai ya jike.

TEMPTATION


Misty prospects in the skies
Yet this sun blurs the eyes,
While the bright light of day
Carries the whole mind astray.

The bride of shame courts
Yearnings, fantasies and lusts.
The comforts of home pushes,
Sins cold hands outside urges.

Can man sneeze or not
Or blink like it is his sort?
To run at first sighting
Or just dare all tempting,

This he never will elude;
His ways must all conclude.
Not all his wishes go to sea.
For lust, many beaches only will see.

SOMEBODY’S FOOL


Tomorrow came, sun shining.
Yesterday left with its dining.

Readied for the certain raining
and aged by much experiencing.

Yet very much a stone in a pool,
everyone is someone elses fool.

LIFE IS ALL THERE IS

What a waste will be all this
if all this life is all there is.
What will all the good breed,
or all the wickedness feed?

What thoughts set out to achieve,
the deeds done set out to receive.
Men are born to die all alone,
as they always lived all alone.

It goes without much comment,
that now is always the moment,
to do and be done with all doing,
for life is forever for the living.

GAY


At birth the bloom will say
what piece in the pair stay,
a plus for lives coupled play.

In structure all living may
grow, roam and breed away,
as only possible since day.

Alas, I fear the body did sway,
hearts and minds too stray,
to please nothing else they gay.

SHEEP TO GOAT


Sheepish dumb, eating schooled.
Shaggy wool worn; looks fooled.
Simply gentle and calm for sure.
Story of yours is for the pure.
Sovereign lord wished no more.

Goatee presence, ever the sharp.
Greedy parentless adorable chap.
Goody oh, all lively and bold.
Gullible sexist, rearing coined gold.
God must’ve let off your hold.

AVANDE GARDE, CAUSE CÉLÈBRE


(A very famous trial ahead of fashion)


“Wake up, you’re dead.
What says your plea?”
“Pray, I am in bed.
You come and flee.”

“Arise, you sleep not.
Your dreams all end.”
“Pardon, my reason is rot.
I am no fiend.”

“I ask not for I know.
State your stewardship?”
“To those above I, I bow.
For those beneath I, I reap.”

“Did they smile above,
Were they glad beneath?”
“With every pain I solve,
With every single breath.”

“What of all the lands
And all that is of it?”
“With my mind and hands
I cared for every bit.”

“What of I, thy Lord?
Did thee walk My path?”
“I knew not only one word,
Couldn’t tell lie from fact.”

PRESSURE


Not this push’s cure to be read,
Bought or however with all science.

Sought over but never had,
Thought never bore its conscience.

Brought ever near and sad,
Doubt never the lurking consequence.

Fought only to severe till mad,
Naught all to sever its laid sequence.

Caught ever, history has said.
Though ever pinches, it is all nonsense.

AFRAID OF COMMON FEAR


We’re afraid so much of necessary failure,
Of what others think of us and of the future
And the past gone and now; just afraid.

We seldom show our consuming phobia,
They’re pushed to sub-consciousness, left there.
There they swell up and fester; being afraid.

Our hidden fears create a climate of anxiety;
Scarcely knowing why we’re afraid, it is insanity.
But still we live on like this, basically afraid.

FAITH




With what comes where
And how follows when.
For the lost will ever fear
And the found never learn.

Faith lives and all own.
What’s seen is received
And again left all alone;
Like all believed, conceived.

The mind roams no course,
Thoughts feel their own way.
For many, their remorse
To others beacons a bay.

In the quest for source,
The search is the force.
Its hunger is blinding
And its timing, binding.

Many has sight failed,
More will lust then wish.
The senses boxes mailed;
Multitudes fed on their dish.

If mind had one more sense,
It will be its chosen thought;
Which is just another lens.
For faith, it has always sought.

CAIN’S WIFE


I wonder who you are;
Some lost line or verse?
Lost somehow so far;
We can’t now transverse?

You are there in view,
Yet we chose the dark.
And rendered the new
Old, like a lot we lack.

Our acceptance of you
Is not sincere at least,
To admit what we knew
Had outlived its wreath.

Shrouded in some mist
Of age old, yet new norm;
That captured life’s feat
And figured its only form.

We spouse a ghost
And live in cemeteries.
Like a true coffined host,
Scared for our souls stories.

Your place true as cast,
Even if subtle and lost.
History gain from; at last,
Those Cains wives, almost.


(Genesis 4:17)

THE SPOUSE OF SENTIMENTS


Daddy smiled and coughed light,
Understanding my explained plight.
Men are lonely and they know,
Yet they conspire not to let show.

These women are assisted all through
By their very own sex, unlike you.
Firstly by mothers or sisters, then peers.
All thrust, show or coax their shares.

Ladies understand the bodies world well
As they grow so guided, you can tell.
The boy discovers on his very own.
And thus, what he finds is his fun.

IDOLS


The patience of man
Had over many ages
Given to his own land
Births of many images.

It has made gods
Of so many symbols;
Earthly made rods,
Also celestial balls.

In his long wait
His patience creates
Answers that relate
Only to his state.

The clouds of reason
Cover his horizons;
Make a sky season,
Or mystic masons.

Sight is so deceptive
That it can tilt a view,
Halo any perspective
With inspired preview.

Man looks around
And sees such beauty,
Beyond any he found
Or his own humanity.

In his natural urge
He pays respects to
Visions and courage,
Where honour isnt due.

In his all human way,
He puts faith in those
He comprehendsll stay;
Idolizing his very nose.