Bar me not from gazing on
the form which sets my blood on fire
and has done so for many a year.
Don't reward my gaze with flippant ire
in attempt to quash growing desire.

That mirror you depend on so
only shows a flawed reflection.
It never shows what I behold
when I chance to look in your direction,
stealing a glance of near perfection.

One time
I tried to use krazy glue while assembling a model,
and it got lodged in between
my left thumb, and forefinger.

Another time,
some anonymous smart-ass said somehing to me,
and I couldn't for the life of me
think of anything at all, to come back with;

then, there were other times,
where I was but, ignored
and life just went on, and on without me
because, I was put on pepetual pause.

Run to the market
Buy some garri home
Here is the money
Take a sack along
The pot has some soup
Waiting for the garri
Three and twenty cups
For sweet smelling soup
Run to the market
Bring some garri home
Six cups of garri
Was all he could bring
What about the rest
Seventeen cups short

‘Where u bai de garri’?

There is a rage that dwells within me, white hot and flowing vibrant, living crimson through my burning veins.
I want to tear, to scream, to shout.
I want to get all of this anger--OUT! OUT! OUT!
--No, no, fury has no place within this broken body.
Sadness wells within me, swirling uncontrollably, whirling me down into its soft blue grip.
Gently, gently it overflows and tears begin to spill--down, down, down.
Tumbling over my skin, sliding across my lips.
No, no! Sadness does not belong near me.

Oh! Goddess of Peace
have mercy on the mortals
do save our souls

(Please read "last few words")

why are you so enraged
leaving all in your trail
frail, fragile, screwed?

are you a nymph
aroused by titillation
of amorous waves?

Bah! you symbolize
feminine beauty and beast
in such stark contrast

once you sate your lust
you will breeze upon the ramp
like a beauty queen

"Religiosity" meowed the cat
rather languidly as cats
usually do
"is for the birds",
just then a cock crowed
with cock-lust after the plump chickens
in the hen house,
but the door was locked by the evil wolf
wearing his usual sheep's clothing,
casing the barnyard
ready to snatch anything that
clucked long enough to suit his fancy,
and the swans swimming in their pond,
stretched their necks to see what was
going on....

WARRIOR

it is morning again
Time is awake
and so am I.
It's dark. There is no sun.
the war has begun

I stumble like a broken puppet
to breakfast only steps away
hoping to make it before lunch
one day

the meds wait on a kikchen shelf
weapons not of choice.
and I suspect some treachery:
they're beating the living shit out of me

I hit every wall
trip over every wire
and aspire to keep my face
from the floor.
my pace is slow and heavy
my bladder quick.

I used to come here to retreat
from southern summer's muggy heat
and watch the rainbows in the mist
where the sun, the air and water kissed.

Below an old dam built of stone
(much of the time I came alone)
to a foothills river running white
save where the small dam tamed its might.

Steep stoney cliffs on either side
where rattle snakes are said to hide
shaded the water through the day
while holding most high winds at bay.

Long suppressed tears
Heart weighty with sorrows
A heavy down pour
In torrential flow

A floating inland
Soaked to overflowing
Wet from inside
Like Lagos rain

Blocked water ways
In a collective wrong
Turned our city
Into an ocean

Tears in my eyes
Like raindrops
Rise to drown
My mortal form