You are the soul of a poet
I can only kneel before you
as you are a real poet

Poetry for me
is just an expression
of thought love and emotion
as these go hand in hand

Some like it others can
many digest it they can't
so I keep my pace
in the rat race

I don't participate
as I'm one of my own kind
unique hope all don't mind

my love is universal
it's for the asking
where on the earth
do we have humans basking

Under a scorching sun, that arose my sweet sweat,
and this gave life to me.
I went in a boat with my father, into a big sea,
the boat is as blue as the ocean and white as the garments of an Angel.

My dad lent me a paddle with one in his hands,
we dug in deep our paddles in the sea, floating on our canoe.
there we saw a mountain hill, a giant hill like Goliath.

Our land will smile once more,
The word provoked the peasant passing wind
Flamboyant bogus ‘Agbada’ dangling,
And a one sided ‘Kembe’ folded
Murmurs some in the awaiting crowd
What has the eyes not seen

Our land will smile again
If I drink from the cup of the past saints
Education under trees will be paralyzed
A loud thunder on a sunny day
Could this had been the intervention of ‘Sango’
Just let me in

In the dark, dusty corners
of an exposed brain;
a seed has been growing,
past roots of deep pain.

A little hand of compassion,
intuitive to unseen travails,
planted love in kind fashion;
a seed so small, now pivotal.

Method of the many masks,
now a common commodity.
Her own, a burdened task;
heavy, after the heart’s robbery.

Without sunlight and care,
the seed sat amongst ruins.
Holding what could be spared.
A brokenness that drew in,
sentience to what's not fair.

A mournful cry
pierces the night
a lesser man would take flight
yet there beseeching the broken night
he splays bespoken dreams

Oh to what gods do I pray
that of Isis and Osiris
to end this longing and dismay
remove the darkness and dispair
or be you on thy way

And who will speak a eulogy
for the death of a sustainable
part of me
remote and distant this day
no more, no more will this go on
passions fire has departed and gone
only in memory does it live on

It is so sad to feel this way
The glue has come undone
I see no way to remedy
The twisted side has won

A world that races wildly on
With plundering and shame
The only way to sidestep this
Is play that deadly game

An entity of greed and force
Lives totally aware
Inside my intellect it breeds
Those wicked words of flair

That is the way I capture them
And toy to my delight
That words of beastly attitude
Will mirror their hate tonight

The day began with
The bang of the door
Which flowed like musical notes into my ears.
The delightful aroma of tea
Tapped me on the shoulder and called,
Then the smell of bouquet
Made me keen to awake.
As I stretched,
I felt a tickle like a butterfly
Alight on my nose and then trail
down to my chin; and so I woke up.

The man with numbers and alphabets
Drew my eyes closer to him
Reporting today's activity.
She had used the whole year
To prepare for this day.

As the weather cools so do I
Another Autumn before I die
You may say I sound so sad
But no inside, I am really, glad.

I look out my window today
The mountain ash has changed its sway
Red berries from the original green
Brown leaves on the boughs are seen

The air is fresher now near to cold,
Put on another coat so I am told
The children on their way to school
Move faster as the air is quite cool.

If I could patent what it is I do wrong,
whenever my intentions are wearing white,
I could own the moon.
My edges are not sharp by any means.
But covered with slime of some crime
I didn’t know I committed.
Trying to pinpoint where the ruin begins, is like counting sand.
The crevices where I talk are to small for a
whisper to squeeze through.
Caverns where the echoes fall are enormously small.