In all of time and in all our lives
we will stumble on to one sure truth; Man has nothing for all he gives. Nothing is his but what he achieves. His life lived is his legacy and fruit. Adieu Little Brother. I know I will bother but I am rested still knowing “Peace is still’ RIP MUSA
Sweet is straight yet unclear, Always new with its old fare. But bitter doesnt ever share, Though it is sinister but sincere, So real and that shade so unfair.
Let us play a game of trading places, pausing triggers of mud slinging tongues. Viewing with glasses that mirror chances, We’ll find all toes fit the shoes it belongs.
Boiling pots let off steam, Pressured heat sweats a beam. Merrily down a peopled stream, Tears must decimate any life’s film.
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.
Tomorrow will come again With its morning and night, Feignedly new with some rain, In fervent dark and again bright.
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.
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.
Wisdom is the Owls,
Opened eyed it saw Cooking sun bowels Blurs its sight more.
Little shows the moon,
Like stars in the dark. To hunt it glides as soon As dusk shows its back.
The prey that hides
From shine of day See less of the rides And the Owls hurray.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Somewhere in all days; witnessed as is always, in the mornings blue skies as in the nights goodbyes. It stops the singing, matches the hatching. In its crawling time, it bettered the wine. With nothing to give, it gives and yet deceive. Wizen the ripened old; consumed and still sold. Young the years grew and gathered all anew. Stealth gets its way as age steals all away.
Who must comes first, males or the females? This knowledge a thirst that quenches with cells. If what is common birth forms females or males; supremacy is their myth, caged within each’s cells.
Those who curse the dogs wet nose, Let them please cast the first stone. It can’t wag its tongue mouth close as they commonly do on their own. It barks its reason like all of those who do but wouldn’t leave it alone.
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.
Saved as caught fishes, Within their own wishes; To leave waters so free, Entrapped in fine twines. Enslaved, seasoned free; Saved from these times.
Child, I love you so and mean you well. But from me you go, running away you fell. This freedom you know, it hurts you will tell.
These intimate songs we sing, blend aged dreams into a ring, that weds our gendered stew, in matrimonial oneness not new.
It was the morning, She was wide awake. Eating rich breakfast pudding, picking the latest buy to make. Her thoughts wonder before; when cold, homeless and hungry, fasting and praying away her woe, with God’s long wait she was angry. Obedient as humanly possible, obvious promises she had made. In luxury and comfort she’s unable to live up, as time altered the shade. In tears and sweat teeth gnash, bearing man’s trials on hand. Fear of the unknown so harsh, as pride sits on faith so hard. Man seeks the great illusion, misspelling the obligation to live. Shunning God, His only illumination. Evil backwards only says Live!
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.
Each day we groom little rapists, Another fuel for those arsonists, Ruling the realm of all realists, Trading in the gluttony of egoists, Housing all unconscious theists.
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.
Amazing how easily we forgot, it’s cold as soon as it’s again hot, or the raw feel of our thirst as soon as we had water first.
Pain, only as long as it linger;
ends when joy points a finger. Many promises we had sworn are as soon not again our own.
The personal stories we told
long before we got this old, Or plans we drew up and made before we realized what we said.
The friendships’ wasted hugs
as quickly, is all stale and bugs. That shoulder we so cried on we now see and as quickly run.
Those hands that shook ours
now reach out from towers, As soon as we forgot again; it’s dry, but again it will rain.
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.
How alone can one be? Looking around, one can only see. Life is one big school, Lectures are missed by the fool. Indeed the friend is in need, Wisdom in the foe only bid. The whole world could be wrong And not hear a word in your song. For fear hasn’t a say Where bare hands cut hay. The masters wishes are His will And only He writes down the bill.
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.
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.
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.
Somewhere in all days; Witnessed as is always, In the morning’s blue skies As in the night’s goodbyes. It stops the singing, Matches the hatching. In its crawling time, It bettered the wine. With nothing to give, It gives and yet deceive. Wizen the ripened old; Consumed and still sold. Young the years grew And gathered all anew. Stealth gets its way As age steals all away.
Aliyu Musa Araka
Cruel, cruel death We have never met.
I only just heard
Of the fear in tears you said.
You’ve been about the herd
And oh the wonder you fed.
Who tells if you’re sent
When you only just left?
Closed eyes clasp the warm darkness, Shutting out the silvery glow of the moon smile. The cantata contest invade with its happiness, Carrying all in the still air of the mating mile. Oh how simple the peace of this revelry, The mind and ears wonder the vastness of it all. Clinging on sanity with man’s overt mystery, Wishing all love melts into this dream so tall.
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.
Sorry bro, if you haven’t guessed it yet, and if you doubt it you’ll lose this bet. There is an ongoing assault on your senses, and it mainly targets your viewing lenses. Ladies make sure you see their goods, those curvy naughty goody foods. They test your resolve to be normal, teasing to resist their mean abnormal.
The other day a lady teased me, saying I’ve got huge man boobs. Smiled and tried to make her see, creation has one reoccurring oops. Just like everything that is male, My boobs are for my pleasure; Not the upliftment of others’ tale, For God’s a man in all His nature.