when the bouganvilla stops blooming its time

If you can't stand a good religious rant
get the fuck off my page and join
bible-thumpers anonymous; I'm
not just talking about the Christian Book
of dogma and apostolic revision, give
me an eagle's feather, free me from the
object of your persecution, your procession
is a historical list of hate after hate.

Stain

Hemlock creeping through my veins.
Limbs numb by degrees .
But my ability to live remains.

Losing everything slashing imperceptibly
no visible mark, or contusions.
successive illusions. 

Mental strain unapparent
Internalized, coiled within my guts
Holding on so as not to cause pain
 
Can't fool or hide from myself,
but no one else can detect 
that I am eviscerated.

I haven't been dog tired
For some time
I usually pace myself
To preserve my health
Today I changed routine
Now I’m sleepy and winded

I missed my eye appointment Wednesday
So I rescheduled for Friday
Since I keep my mornings lazy
My appointments are later in the day
But, it wasn't so today
Because I had to make some changes

0110101

I don’t think I can live without you
I’d feel naked out there
Left all alone, with nothing

I’d have no life if you ever left me
With a severed connection
I’d be nothing, left all alone

(chorus)
My world hangs on the press of a key
My adrenalin shot of technology
Destination cyberspace
Binary code now my identity

(chorus)
My world sits on the click of a key
Speed along information highway
Destination cyberspace
Virtual existence held in binary

Blessed be thy name
Akwa Abasi Ibom
Oil flows in crude and palms
We drank to augment the joy
Of a new south-south state
Our ancestors were noted
For farming and fishing
Women wore waists beads
And fed their children
With breast milk
And remains of past sacrifices
The children knew well
How to keep the vultures away
From eating the meat at the altar
Till the sacrifice was accepted
By Itina Iman

Eight-thirty pm,
the whole sky to himself,
a bird flies home.

I don't mean to hurt anyone here,
Sir.

All my life I have composed
Through the darkness of the eerie nights,
When the mind is free
Without any inhibitions

And

When I read some ones poetry
I get my own vision

And

Compose that's all.
If you don’t like me
At least I thank thee,
For seeing the ray,
Nay,
streak of brilliance
That you do say,
Comes once amongst a billion rays

Many dawns have lapsed,
My lonely pathway
That’s about all what I can say

With a longing I must nurture
I've a passion for the past,

at a crossroads in the future
each decision, might be my last.

Insecure about my choices,
that I'm coerced to make,

I can only hear their voices
it's their timbre, I can't take.

My agenda's never hidden
so, it's hard to make my way;

against those who make their bidding
no matter what they do, or say.

I'm driven to the horizon
but, my pathway seems to fade;

Swahili,
I never learned Swahili
in the American marketplace
bankers, Realtors and lawyers,
pundits, corporations and dissidents
oh my,

who would I be now without
Siddhartha egging me on
into my heart of darkness?

thieves rescued me and hunters
wounded me, the prey elusive
in their infrared sight, I loved them
all, but not later

I was a Nomad foraging through
deep roots, hacking off words
that seemed superfluous, I stood
on the edge,
a woman of strawberries.

When The Light Goes Go

I watched from my car, sitting outside the electric co op
At people racing to pay bill before their lights go out
A manager unlocking door to let out last customer
Is a hometown friend of my hubby and didn’t have the heart to say
We’re closed, so she let him in