Twitter80fad54As this May fades, I still see traces of my previous dreams

Upon this bed, I listen loud for questions writing wills

Have I been sour, upsetting all that tread upon my path?

Have I been kind, a sparkling light that brightens every heart?

Is this how youth goes away

When there’s still so much to say?

Is this how night turns to day

With too little time to pray?

Does my mind only conjure

All the best thoughts I can draw?

Does my spirit stay ashamed

Of the purpose yet achieved?

As May fades away, I see traces of hope

As I tick this day as gone, I still await a show

Maybe May was a stage sent to test my living skills

May May leave me good traces of these daring drills.



As this day fades like dust long sprayed
As the moments of the twenty four hours complete their course
As the moon overlays the skies
And the stars appear in their graceful apparels
I think to myself of the minutes saved
The moments lost, the times poorly used
Perhaps brooding over misfortunes gone
Or wishing for future fortunes.

Many like me archived today
Storing it in a briefcase without codes
Hoping that we may repair yesterday
In our ideal sketch of the morrows to come
We keep tiny bits of our breakfast till nightfall
Often too panicked that our bowels will scream
And cry pitiably for want of satisfaction
Or dearth of seas in our intestines.

What if we became buffs of the present
Living a day at a time, one step in the line
What if we turn off yester woes and future fears
To live in the present and just dance in today.




Amidst the harshness of the economy

And the endless plight of the needy

There’s a desperate self-investment

Leaving millions in a cantonment

Lips quiver in unbecoming wailing

Eyes glitter with tears ever filling

Joints and frames lack the grace of life

Or the gaits of satisfied men in time

Doors stay shut, hiding from the single

Ignoring the panic of the unforeseen

Pretending to care about plenty things

All in the name of reckless ambitions

So the lacking become the wanton

And the sated lack knowledge of hospitality.






Your story is like one never before heard
It gives all ears a tingling feel
Your beauty makes the world happy
Knowing that somehow this is heaven on earth
When you find that one that is ‘made for you’
You finally conquer the monitors
When you take the step
To make the queen the first
The blue skies smile at you gladly
The love you share is like a stream
That flows forever, bringing peace
It crushes fear, detests pretense
It grows in May and sips the rain
It breaks down doubt’s glorious hill
Looking beyond the blinding gaze
Or deafening sounds that speak uncouth
Ever present to provoke lies
Your love has touched the hardest hearts
It’s breaking wild walls
And making babes cheers with hope
Your quiet peace and loudest ease
Has set a tune off to the moon
What was movie has come as truth
To stay and set our hearts ablaze
Bringing up warmth, quenching the drought
That tells onlookers what to predict
‘The Wedding Party’ is leaving the theatre
With heightened glamour and greater humour
Your courageous moves and soothing outlook
Has made the stage for many in faith
That love can be found even in just art
Or maybe concealed till it’s time for heat
So with all delight, I gladly ignite
The flames of the fire that bore this prediction
That the king of love ‘Banky W’
Has found his long missing rib
And from this day claims her his queen
Her Royal Majesty, Mrs Adesua ‘W’.




These days are orchestrated by hustle and bustle
And hardly do people listen to the blowing whistle
Every moment is filled with speed and rush
And none is left without a propelling push
Even the storms don’t wreck the tiny beams
Of what resembles the twin of dreams
As if this means little of much value
Every youth drives into the open avenue
The unborn read the scripts of heroes
And are swift to advance their own zeroes
Who insists then on blowing a trumpet
Or sounding the beagle in earnest?
The narrator may start the story today
But for the full yarn, she has set no date.



black-and-white-girl-writing-dream-on-wall_jpg Facebook Covers Black ___.jpgOld friend, I read your biography
Your words were succinct and real
And your inked imagery played well
Like daring dew on leaves’ end.

You talked about anxious ageing
Losing your hold on your youth
Parting too quickly and drying daily
As if there were no more life to use.

You described your betrayed bones
How they sullenly screech and fold
The way they bend without a bell
And how they many times you fell.

Your words painted your unhappiness
Careful to not be careless and faithless
For the end of the early mornings
Was only a meagre mansion in the evenings.

In your last lines you drew a circle
Though to me it was a circular cycle
Showing how you lived your little life
So breathtakingly in harmony with time.



Dig Deeper_ Kneeling

My transgressions stand before me
Guilty before your presence of wrath
They scream my name silently
Reminding me of my own yelling
You never forgive them their errors
Trespasses and iniquities
Ever raging for hell and its demons
They stare at fire unbridled
Do not give us bread today
For it may be death in disguise
However we plead mercy undeserved
Since our feet are keen to stray
Pardon our recklessness and folly
We remain children without memory
Quick to play in the mud and dirt
And often too swallowed by filth
Unconsciously we turn to the left
Forgetting the path that leads to life
We soon forsake our pure purpose
And delve into the depth of denial
We yell even in our gentle voices
Unaware that our words slay many
Tearing through hearts and skins
And ruining laughter and love
In our careless chase for honour
We fall short of your pleasure
Sounding too loud for your space
I remember kneeling at your waist
Imagining you had the case of a cross
Looking through your sight
For signs of softness or sympathy
But it was all a mirage
A mindless design for absence
An impeccable drawing of fate
That consistently tosses me about
Without atoning for my sins
Or even daring to spill blood.