She may not hit us directly
We may feel her wrath precisely
Her eye moved to the right
North Carolina's plight.

They say it’s as bad as Hugo
Twenty nine years ago
My spirit knows her greatness
Understands her fierceness.

Clouds so beautiful, my heart soared
Sunset most glorious days before
Gloom of destruction in the clouds
Thick gloom blankets the south.

I fear not her rage
Mother Gaia's wage
Fires on the West coast
Hurricanes the east coast.

Some people say
“Haters gonna hate”
but like Shakespeare says
“If you prick us,
Do we not bleed?”

A tree is right
To fear a chainsaw,
Though it might still
Fill the forest
With its seed

I like to bob my head in cafes
drinking my turmeric tea
and banana toast
with honey
and peanut butter
while Toto plays Africa
over the speakers
in the ceiling.

I like to remember who I was
who I am
and who I can be someday,
again.

I had a vision. In it stood an ovally shaped cave somewhere in the centre of fantasies, away from the peeping sky. We dwelt in the the caverns of our deeds without dress or the burden of knowledge.

You dorsiflexed your legs to the rhythm of the ancient flutes and I was as Onyeneku; the head drummer that commands the muscles of the spirits sprawling in antelope's fitness. Truly all that lived were us in this cave somewhere amid the joys of companionship, away from the turbulent waves of intrusion.

The clash of titans
And the clash of wars caused the definition of stage
Humanity experiences

I, whose mold and caste
Clan of kin is caste
In cold clod
And bold
In love

Be it told
Be it known to all and ends
Hence I tell this truth
In tone
In tune
In crystal wording…

I, whose cast mould
Clan and skin is caste
In dust
Sod and cold-

Paint you in gold-

That in the clime of the brightest
Of shiny array, where all glimmer
You’ ill dazzle and glow…

a night pretty enchanting
all fragrant and enticing
inhaling an exotic aroma
in every breath of you

each gentle touch on tips
like caress of flutter bees
made every bud bloom
releasing your perfume

a brush on velvety petals
roused soft inviting whispers
with a gush of sweet nectar
moistening your tulips

as I gently slid out of the rug
you pulled me back with a tug
to wrap me in a warm hug
quickening our heartbeats

The little boy
Picked petal
After petal
Off the purple
Star-shaped
Flower

“She loves me,
She loves me not”

Until his desperate
Little fingers
Ended on a final leaf
And a final “not”

It was a total
Dis-Aster

What's on the other side of moon
a thought that keeps
blinking, lurking, gnawing
on my radar
tracking her ballet steps
leaving dotted lines
on my clouded mind

she keeps
haunting, flirting, beaming
with a "fetch me if you can"
teasing smile
never turning her back on me

she even eludes my spy cam
leaving me a hapless victim
of eve teasing
from light years away
sentenced to
serving time on earth
bewitched