The stream (all workshops)
To you in the back of the room
Who accepted insults
Like insulin
To a diabetic
A pair of headphones
Silences taunting voices
Sitting in the last row
Watching as cliques
Try to ostracize you
For not converting
To their ideologies
The lyrics to some rap song
Playing on repeat
Became a sound of solace
You just want to paint
the boring lecture hall
With true colors
Rather than the epidemic
Of superficiality
I guess I'm alive if that's what you'd call it
i've been waiting to set free the wish in my pocket
so, so long dirt road
i'll see you 'round
the valley, it beckons the wind as it blows
all the spiders are going to bed with the crows
'cause they settled for naught
let their own webs hold them down
this crazy mountain air must get to me
i know you're never there but you're all i see
if wishes could be, i'd happily believe
that this breeze would bring you back to me
It is an outer world of mysteries
possible alien life
are the legends true?
do these mysteries have only logical explinations?
do these strange other life forms live among us?
why don't we know the answers?
is area 51 area a real place with actual others unknown to us?
these can and will be answered.
if you believe in them.
THEY ARE HERE....
It is an outer world of mysteries
possible alien life
are the legends true?
do these mysteries have only logical explinations?
do these strange other life forms live among us?
why don't we know the answers?
is area 51 area a real place with actual others unknown to us?
these can and will be answered.
if you believe in them.
THEY ARE HERE....
Time.
The city awakens,
the sound of it breaking the
silence of December's dismal night,
wheels in motion, destiny
revolving a circular kind of death.
Oh, wilderness,
plastic gods in plastic battles,
throwaway society,
feed the hungry with the dead
Monsanto killed the seed,
farmers reap no benefits,
only words
blowing in the fallow wind...
Oh, Jerusalem,
this poem is not for you,
divided, you are conquered
from within
Far too cold to hear the crickets sing
on this clear November night
with moon encircled by a ring
and stars above so dense and bright
The tic of leaves the only sound
as they fall gently from the trees
to come to rest on frosted ground
while puddle edges start to freeze
On distant road the headlights glow
flickering through the oaks and pines
where pale mushrooms sprout and grow
among the honeysuckle vines
The Niger Delta struggle started, not today
King Frederick William Koko led warriors
to General Goldie’s garrison at Akassa
He was sent on exile after his capture
Oh! I need not say, same story for others
Oba Ovarenwem, King Jaja of Opobo
Nana of Itshekeri, the nostalgic reminiscence
in far away land, my people, my kingdom
Transient thoughts
Seek higher plains
Where reality cannot abide
And bids me follow
Perhaps it leads
To a realm spun from dreams
There is no pain
There are no needs
Asleep in the arms of time
And time does stand still
Transcending space to find
What had been forgotten
Or lost
When we run out of gold
We will use silver,
When we run out of knowledge
We will use reason,
When we run out of guns
We will use our aggression,
When we run out of diamonds
We will use each other,
When we run out of politics
We will use instinct,
When we run out of actions
We will use words,
When we run out of reasons
We will use lies,
When we run out of ideas,
Then that’s too bad.
Like the deepest darkest chamber
Way below the castle wall
There’s no one to see the teardrops
There’s no one to hear you call
High above a light is shining
Is that laughter you can hear
People talking, people playing
While you’re petrified with fear
Though the cell is non existent
You have only you to blame
There’s no lock there are no bars
But, it holds you just the same
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