Category Archives: Poems
Lagoon City
This city’s crest should be a clock With cartoon speed lines And lit fuses, their proud colours On two perpendicular sticks of dynamite “We live, we die, we chase time” Scrawled below in a kind of swanky Helvetica In some god-forsaken
Lagoon City
This city’s crest should be a clock With cartoon speed lines And lit fuses, their proud colours On two perpendicular sticks of dynamite “We live, we die, we chase time” Scrawled below in a kind of swanky Helvetica In some god-forsaken
Wings (or the lack thereof)
I sat there chained to the floor, The room dull and depressing My wings freshly shorn And I cried, “How can one who loves me so tear my wings?” “My wings all vari-hued and full-feathered” And I wailed until I
Wings (or the lack thereof)
I sat there chained to the floor, The room dull and depressing My wings freshly shorn And I cried, “How can one who loves me so tear my wings?” “My wings all vari-hued and full-feathered” And I wailed until I
Melancholia
My heart hurts Like someone’s wringing it out Trying to rid it of all the blood *sigh* I may be wrong about that After all I don’t “have a heart” So, yes, I’m probably wrong about that Must be my
Melancholia
My heart hurts Like someone’s wringing it out Trying to rid it of all the blood *sigh* I may be wrong about that After all I don’t “have a heart” So, yes, I’m probably wrong about that Must be my
Dot
The beginning of a line The language of a thousand constructs Clear, Music, Universal The flash of genius, Eureka!!!, The light at the start of the tunnel. A part of things, the source of things. Dot. …………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Just randomness today.
Three Strings
Hey y’all a little back story on this piece. Anyone who’s met me knows I almost always have a few strings of coral beads on my right hand. For the Non-Nigerians here, this usually indicates a royal affiliation of some
Three Strings
Hey y’all a little back story on this piece. Anyone who’s met me knows I almost always have a few strings of coral beads on my right hand. For the Non-Nigerians here, this usually indicates a royal affiliation of some
Trance
This is something I wrote a few years ago after one of my many daydreams……. Do you ever have this feeling That you’re not really here? Your soul seems to float Some place in the atmosphere You sit in a
Trance
This is something I wrote a few years ago after one of my many daydreams……. Do you ever have this feeling That you’re not really here? Your soul seems to float Some place in the atmosphere You sit in a
Untitled
Musings These days I find myself without anything to say, I hold my pen in my hands but I feel nothing, My brushes are stiff and dry, No colours, no lights, no words I’m a shadow No, a shadow at
Untitled
Musings These days I find myself without anything to say, I hold my pen in my hands but I feel nothing, My brushes are stiff and dry, No colours, no lights, no words I’m a shadow No, a shadow at
