Wee hours of the morning, I writhe as I write
My soul is tortured, and I'm drawing blanks
There is something here in the deepest of night
Will my muse appear, if I drop and give thanks?

Black shadow of perspective, hidden from me
I know you lurk there in the back
I stand on tip-toe, trying to see
Looking through a small jagged crack

I hear whispers of presence, I know you are there
There is horror in this unsleeping room
The empty halls don't lead anywhere
I stumble, flail away to my doom

I held back waters, raging sea
for days, building inside me
words of contempment
spewed from your lips
weakened my resources

Days of sandbagging
building leveys
protect you from my wrath
gave way to alcohol
touching my lips

Now sea bursted
leaving no stone unturn
your city lay bare
eyes of those watching on
hoped I would just shut up

Tone down outrage?
soften blows to your ego?, but
what about my integrity
trampled down
left mangled

The future is unwritten, only time will tell.
The only certain event in this chapter book we call our lives are the goodbyes.
We struggle to find that one special thing in our lives, that one thing we'd do anything to hold on to.
We'd fight for die for just to keep it safe and hold on forever.
But in the end you have to let go and say your goodbyes.
Goodbye to your love ones.
Goodbye to your hopes and dreams.
Goodbye to those wishes you been wishing since 13.

The sound of sweet peace will never come so quickly, but defeat lingers in the air.
Death shows me no mercy, he laughs as I fall and beg, he doesn't care.
My screams in the night are drowned out by the wind, as I beg for forgiveness for all that I have done.
But however, I do not beg death or the one greater, I beg forgiveness from you.
I am nothing just another waste of space among the rest.
I am nothing special just another scar upon flesh.
I have accomplished nothing as if I learned nothing from the past.

The oracle predicted, not long ago
That an unusual change will come
To the great house of Akwa Owo
When a minor will be made a king
We found it hard to accept as true
Due to convoluted conditional ties
And unfeasible demands of the gods

The struggle for the crown came hard
Between the three big clannish lords
Who felt it was their bequest to rule
From southern seas to desert north
Leaving the vassals to find their holes
A hindrance of some sort, thus created
For the aspiring ethnic minorities

White down
so high
and yet so lowly, soft,
your flecks of light
where brown turf darkens
damp,

so innocently growing
'spite the weather,
torn clouds,
against the blue or grey,

beside you green of moss
stone, heather,
grasses, hay,

not lauded
given honours like the rose
but there the mountain knows
your sweet repose.

their days start with good intent
sparkly with spit to shine
bouncing out, the hours pass away
as does all decorum

blood soaked steps shimmer
whispering meekly, and pleading
to return to the beginning
but this nightmare has no end

our young go out into the world
landing so inebriated and lost
they could be seen as spastic
as another brain cell dies

a family somewhere mourns
devastation ripples our communities
our young continue to die
and some just sit and watch

Imagination.

It's all about God (the roving bandit she is)
playing with all the missing pieces, stealing all the
best lines never written
and blowing scene after scene with a wintery breath
the first night of her refusal in her deep purple phase,
the moonglow her pale-skinned backdrop.

You hope the one you're with
is true, but
know it's just delusions.
give benefits of doubt, but
is often wrong

Rug you stand on
steps rely on
fallen ladder from roof top
leave you stranded
on dry rotted shingles

Home of hopes, dreams
cherished memorable fruits
faded love on dead stems
sit idle in stained vase
no longer haven for marriage vows

Nest is empty
birds, damaged feathers
return home, tattered
weathering the storm
of life tragic lessons

let's feed our love dripping
to the mother and watch the
soft kisses
dribble down her
chin

paint her diner napkin
as coffee silhouettes embracing on lipstick
smudges under
a coy hand
hiding

folds of paper pushing against
pulling into plying apart pressing upon
each other
sticking with their
wetness

to her lips smiling corner
lay the shadow or a sweetness
wiped away
by the imaginative
creases