Grind and toil on still,
work through anyway,
regardless of the feel,
simply make the way.
All fails are still wins;
breaks and remakes.
Life will happen still;
like winning stakes.
Every single day’s dawn
feels like I am a pawn
stepping out alone
Though we’re unsure of a future,
We are definitely not concerned.
Our minds groomed in a culture,
Taught to believe all is confirmed.
The familiarity makes us all dizzy,
In likeness we cannot forsake me.
For love is not suppose to be easy,
That is why it is love not just like.
A seed dies too like a dream,
already buried to simply grow.
All seeds dropped into a stream,
aborts their dreams with the flow.
Every word is made up,
It’s more than just sound.
Every word likens a cup,
Refilled with every round.
Each word carry a thought,
An intent which is it’s guide.
Grown up words get taught,
They’re learned and caught,
A disguise lost to the child.
From whence were you birthed?
The very bowels of ships berthed.
And who had anchored your pains?
Same he that adorned me in chains.
Who housed and fed your pride?
Same he that took away my side.
Who sat you in hard carved wood?
This same master who eats my food.
What lessons were fed to you?
That’s written on my scars too.
What journey have you come from?
One that make up my physical form.
Were you aided and groomed?
Indeed, burdened and tooled.
Where you shaped to a good fit?
Truly, trained to be as yet unfit.
How were you held in place?
Planted, till I lost all my trace.
Surely you tried to branch out?
Rooted trees only get to sprout.
But you grew on and had aged?
Certainly, I’m still not as caged.
So break away and come home.
I’m home in the cage I’m borne.
But all your gains is not evident?
Yet I am surely and truly present.
But you are a readied crucifix?
Yet my time lost I did not miss.
What time it is, is relative;
to just any moment in time.
Though age is cumulative,
it only slowly keeps in time.
These hands that tell time,
only do what we make them;
steering, without the helm.
Cladded in possible beauty,
cared or cherished no less.
Tendered with flowery duty;
still a Lady bugs regardless.
Stand for something
Not be on a fence
In my defense
Have an opinion
Not give a care
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
Wisdom is broad;
Knowledge is narrow.
It’s like getting a broad,
Takes wit, fits and sorrow.
Found my missing rib;
taken many eons ago,
from man’s first ever crib.
Named every living thing,
even she who Woo Man,
she who changes everything.
Now all time is theirs;
though life goes onwards,
I am caged to all of hers.
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
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.
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?
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
If you refuse to leave,
Surely it will still cease.
Because the night is dark;
The sun ensures it is back.
In ka ki ka ji bari,
Lalle za ka ga bari.
Domin dare ne sakon;
Rana ne mai bakon.
It’s the most misused word
Which says it is quite right
When stakes are put on hold.
It gives up it’s life given right,
To demand, take and be bold.
Shades own place in the sun;
Like the shadows that will run,
Is hidden from its glories glare
With the truth they all must bear.
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.
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.
Long nights had passed by,
I still stray into the dream.
My tears had filled my try,
My beaten milk isn’t cream.
Donkeys’ years pass on along
And made me an ass all alone.
Donkey’s oversized head belong
To the horses my very fate own.
The will shade appear itself
And I can not be too careful.
In crossing to my other half,
I find I am the Zebra’s fool.
Winners so abound,
Strapped and bounded.
Elated all around,
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.
O little, little, tiny ant;
Do you wonder who I am,
Standing big moving plant,
Always about to do you harm.
After taking stock of our relationships
And how we all manage to practice them,
With the thorough scan of stewardships
Serving or waiting on this our system.
I come to the stunningly true conclusion
That there is always a thin line between
A foe or a friend in this summation
And it is there for all to lose or win.
It is as thin as is the common thread
Or as is any selfish or selfless whim
That guides man’s search for bread
Or his thoughts, his actions or him.
Wheels of fortune
Sing your cheeky tune.
Life is a man
Dancing all he can.
Loose as sand,
Lord of all the land.
In all this fuss
You wonder what he has.
The freshness of a blossom
Will wither, fall and dry.
All this earth so awesome,
Ends and will all die.
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 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.
Where a man goes
So points his toes.
And what he knows;
Not all what he does,
Would lessen his woes.
All around are foes,
with yet another ruse.
Up any tree he throws;
With a beat to choose,
Could be his mangoes.
Time is a beating heart
ticking away from its start
counting down, ebbing away
taking life away, for it can’t stay
My time is solely mine, mine alone
I walk it and work life on my own
My life is not mine; it, I just have
Long as I prowl safely and behave
I am not mad, just insanely crazed
Like all the many about, just dazed
I live somehow, alive like it matter
I’m only here, ignored like dirty water
Mine has come to this one thing,
appreciated and loved for my sun
was, is and will be in everything.
As able then stays man’s proud son;
strength is always but much nothing,
it lost out as strategy ever again won.
In so many eggs
Form these pests,
With hairy legs
And little nests.
They come alive.
Into lives they saw
Like a heartless knife.
Hopes are meals
Infected in feeding.
Health it steals
With insidious seasoning.
Flee and leaves
Sorrow in clusters.
Full of might,
In various ways.
Ever theyre new
In buzzing forays.
Mail your worst,
Untrue are lies.
Come the most
Youre just flies.
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.
There’s many things to say,
in more ways as you may.
Look you see could just be
not what it seems to be.
That smile in bright shades,
simple with warmly shapes,
could be as dark as any sin
or quite simply not as mean.
Darkness feels quite empty
with nothing to see through.
These lives about so mighty
would empty and darken too.
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.
And where are you off to
you little mite, busy so so?
To gather as you go through
borrowing to hide down low?
This wind that carry you
draws a ring as you sing.
For one that reigns so true
you live shorter than you bring.
Your bite is so you can live
like all who prey on fatality.
How true it is, in all who live,
That death is but a formality.
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.
Taste speech my brother,
Crave for words in reply.
Yearn to see yet another,
To see, touch and go by;
For lonely is every breather.
Sweet is straight yet unclear,
Always new with its old fare.
But bitter doesn’t ever share,
Though it is sinister but sincere,
So real and that shade unfair.
From where comes all this dew,
Delighting thoughts with to chew.
Soothing pressures that boo,
But sound frightfully so lewd.
I grabbed the wind horn I blew,
For I alone do hear it so true.
A loss I think I’ll cause you,
The pains might escape a few.
My swift scheme hardly new,
Like good cheats daring who.
Life is the full pot of new stew
Emotional foot found with its shoe.
The buds blossom is past glossy,
time passing has folded its shiver.
Age wither and dry up the rosy
in certain preparation for shivah.
The past left without all of its,
as the present live any place else.
And now, always alone like this;
How then can the old ever bless?
Dryness of thirst spoke its waste
as all bare feet thorns had hurt.
Peacefully alone, wait for fate
with memories in a bodily hut.
When time has consumed its old
as water passes under the bridge;
This route for all, floods any hold,
water must pass under the bridge.
Again and again its replayed,
Assistance not even repaid.
Acquaintance that made an Us,
Not maintained with new status.
But I heard your smile
Come across another mile.
I saw your heart and felt
Your mind like mine, melt.
I’m in harmony with you
And I perceive this as true.
You’re my friend come pain,
Or still over and over again.
It was always dark in all it lack;
All living again, though to us all,
Today it still lingers far off back
In that long night we still do fall.
These cultures that speak the person
Say an Abiku again is everyone of us.
For common reason proves a season,
That only event ended and started us.
When the cries over sharia had settled,
We ran and scattered the towns streets.
Homeless, dead and alive all kettled;
Schemed and steamed out of fair streets.
After all, a rope always starts and ends,
Then it is just after all rope in between.
All of man is birth and the dead ends,
In between is life; man is in between.
After dusk, all return to their own home.
The swines streets of our homes will then
Not be as good again to even just roam,
For the transit pen is now a lions den.
In dedication to the old residents of Rigasa, in Agabi LGA of Kaduna, who were forcibly displaced of the Sharia Riots of Kaduna; February 20th, 2000
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.
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
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.