I go back to the picture I had taken
to remind myself that you are there,

How the moon as you pointed out
confidently shines during the day
and we wondered what happens in the night somewhere else.

$60 you paid for paired
it's important we get our communication clear
I can't believe I'd ask you to discredit yourself
and although I was partly joking, I couldn't help but think
I was revealing myself.

"you are so sweet" I would say so often
I wonder of that what you think.  

Dad says the beginnings are opulent, so be stern
cause its the open house season
cards on tilt,
handshake slid,
agreed affirmations,
the addictive indulgence of young love overflowing and free
and then you are locked in.

But, my mind drifts back to the picture taken
and you are still there
smiling,
Nothing's changed.

it's time to see who my friends are again
LinkedIn the message that made me argue with them
sent out those messages to make us plan out a cheer
an update with silverware and a gap tooth
a declaration, but not of independence
- that past really did a number on me

it's time to lie on silk, and bathe with milk
to do one project and my office phone don't ring
to conquer spare time, financing personal war begging to be win
I am an American again, I can have a dream
and dig open to work on plans that went to sleep

it is time to see who my friends are again
it is time to see who will speak

& again i push onto the phantom idea of my glasses
only for my ******* to hit the bridge of my nose
telling me "no"
telling me "its time to move on and adjust"
but my unwillingness to, is as dense as the humidity
that hangs heavy in the air
causing sweat to escape out, running down my skin
after being trapped for too long, as of those who had
long fought and forgot love

so many things run down the fragile composition of our mind
like the phantom idea of my glasses that had once been
that even in freedom we keep reaching out to chains
reminiscing the bubbles that eloped us
taking for granted this new contraception of change
paying no heed to the work and hardship that bore us
into a new maternity
am i throwing away the baby and the bathwater?
or, am i reaching out to a blanket to wrap my newborn with?
pain is fickle, and so is change
freedom is around us, and so is the vulnerability that
we are where we are, and in the right place

& again i relax my tense, blinking some more
squinting out to see through my new lens

(in naija broken english aka pigin)

in these varying decision times
i just dey on a low
nor be say the matter tire me
i suggest say, i just dey distracted.
as Roe dey fight Wade
conje dey para for me.
omo, na next from one babe then unto another
na ee be the motive,
sadly this lifestyle na everything but
extravagantly ****.
as dem dey pursue Trudeau
na so i dey chase down my destiny,
na when i go take mind re-write
this exam wen dey in front of me?
for naija, election matter dey make man japa
my timeline say na Peter Obi go be their papa,
funny enough i get this feeling say
we dun dey reach the moment wen things go better,
like say this summer na "turn around season".
the true be say, either politics or breakfast
las las everybody dey fight somethin.
the true be say if you dey para, you go have to rise above it.
the true be say, na only God get remedy.

e dun pass time when we go dey look persin for face
e dun reach time when we must to carry matter for head.

Here comes the rain
crashing on window panes and lane ways
thumping on brownfields long shaded by tents of homeless
in parks and under bridge.
dragging in cool draft air into crack windows, into
frat houses bog down with heat.
pool water accumulating then draining into city basin
for the city demands of us of all she needs.
leaving ourselves in retreat to within as the rain
spreads its blanket on both the good and the bad.
the almanack foretold of the rain
as i contemplate for the right time to plant my seed.
that was then, and now the terraces are
overflowing
accusation spilling from where ever least resistance might be.
nothing impedes the rain
for she is the bringer and taker of life
the singular in the many plurals of distraction, the fortune that does not change throughout time.
here comes the rain, there goes our actions adjusting to fate again
beating down on the roof of our hearts
singing a tune on which our patterns weave back & forth to dance.
is it time to plant my seed, i ask of the almanack again?
as i cuddle in my blanket observing the formation of the clouds
while the city's crier beat its gong in request again of all that i have
then the almanack said, its time to sow tears

All in time we all will walk down the board
Yu dropped out, Stephanie the days before

Sometimes i wonder if they would throw out
a feast when i fall

Or if instead they would scramble
for a quick replacement before I hand in their fob

                 change is this place does not wait for the shoe to fall
                   because everything here is on free fall

the floor generals, and their foot solders
always in response to calls.

I am just trying to stand on my feet

we like the song, then proceed to fade into ourselves
realizing that we are all taking stabs, and
playing rotation with the pain in our flesh
realizing that we might be too harsh, over critical
of ourselves
don't say your name, say theirs
another song that comes on
as we regress into our hide.
Misrepresentation is, saying an important take
with sprinkles of "lol" on the side.
hot words to be carried in air on paper
intended to be thrown as paper plane
with no way to impose a coordinate inside
and we watch it fumble to fly
and watch it fall, crashing to the ground
another waste pollution for our future babies to cry
another reason i stumble when i want to connect with my guys
we just look down and pick up the PS4 pad
to control an already assigned code, to connect in it inside
when there's a jungle waiting to be coded on our insides.
whilst our paper plane on the ground
our thoughts and prayers goes to the sky.

We often react to the emptiness in our air
I sense your somber notes, you draw your long war line pause
our regret is set, to then be muster in the end.

the clouds are thick. I open my beam light
to shine my thoughts through
you cuss me out, letting down your blinders of blame.

we both recognize how we have changed
all those other nights in those other rooms are now
distance and gone.

time has stack an elephant of cards between us
we grasp in out unique ways to understand her crisis.

until yesterday, several vials were left unopen
cardboard boxed love, in a storage room
leaking out words unaccounted for.

you & i, in a dim but breathable pocket space
holding on to old love, staring strangely around
wonders of what's next.

What happens when you shower in the dark?
you can't tell the environment around you, only
the soap laddering on your skin, and the streetlight
peering into the scene.

you don't get to see your arrogance accumulating from loneliness
like soap rinse-off left to dry on the ground.
the act of showering is to be clean
but you can't concretely see your arm
so how do you get to cleaning when you can't see?
how do you continue to hold on to hope when the feeling of
the need of warmth is pushing unto every square inch on you?
when you know the moment you turn the shower off
that coldness comes rushing in.
leaving your skin prickle displaying bumps
like that of a feather-plucked chicken readying for the feast.
Now you've got to resist, and hopefully they say he would flee.

Then you step in front of a mirror, remember its dark.
meaning there is nothing to see, but the fog is there to feel
bubbling in your face, churning your skin.
you know this darkness is not good for you,
but you embrace it like well a known friend
reeling in its obscurement, applying layers of cream.

we have finally arrive
once citizen of a different country
sailed through water and sky
here to dwell in this land

upon arrival, we sort for life
while accustoming to change
like eyesight trying to focus in light
after being long in the dark

we worked the factories
with our hands bruised
our back bent and spent
embracing winter's frigid air
and summer's sweat

we held on the blue lifestyle
bounding it around our neck
like a diamond collar
fetching for a dream

we sort soloist in the change
holding on to the little that didn't change
reminding ourselves that we came here to make a change
after giving all away for a change

Now we are chanting back to this land
we, the very backbone with which she stands
our song filled with pride
of toil and lost
an overwhelming sacrifice

we sing as we fill upper ranks
taking on prestige professions
leading up the charts
we sing on and we climb

Please see
attached for

Irrational decisions
mental shortcut, heuristic lens on

judgmental behaviors, slander
malice towards partners of Eve

Deceitful love, politics amongst words
cultural hive, the buzz intrigues

the standout gets called up
salem's gospel goes on

eloquent potholes
new generational lost souls
goodluck charlie
goodluck growing up

street with templars
liberty substitutes for crosses
museums enemies
divisive liturgy unboxes

Blessed are the bad days
the "we regret to inform you" days
thoughts lashings in on so many ways
like to eat chocolate on workout days.

Blessed are the "how do I tell them" days
acquaintance asking how it goes
the news comes in varies ways
it comes and some withhold.

Blessed are the "I have got every reason to be anger" days
cause success and blessings are colour blind
but hurt display in multiple rays.

Blessed is this day
for I chose to be happy cause its well
and even when I fail, I am always winning.
I have won today
and this medicine hanging on my throat?
its chocolate babe.

you crumpled your ******* and put them in your jacket
in a parking lot, in his car, in the cold.
you'd covered your nakedness with his blanket
like Eve with the leaves as the stories was told.
although you had anticipated the outcome of the night
you'd planned to go.  
you had prayed numerous times for the cup to pass
from your hold.
but when the night got cold, eagerly you had fold.
like Isaac in the bible, we meditate out in the fields
for someone to come comfort our souls.
Our father knows this, for Rebekah is on the road.
how long do we hold on for this love to be behold?
our eyes are dropping, setting the like sun.
patient is dismounting from our caravan for the trip is long.
lust is slowly uncovering its veil
will complacency and mistrust prevail?
will we open those gates to change the course of fate?
so now you bent your knees to *** in the cold.
in an alleyway with the lights on your face.
for from this day, you had done a deed
that cannot be unchanged.
it's not like anything changed
God still loves you all the same.
but there is condemnation, and there is shame
going through your brain.
But it was fun and you might do it all again.

I live in the first century of the clone wars
most morning we’d wake up swiping up.
the new papers don’t arrive no more
because the news pours out of various device
interrupting morning thoughts, selling
us products to own more.
we think sophisticatedly but stay
closed off.
happy to be clones, to be sold love.
living vicariously through actors, models
or influencers who show more.
we think they are intelligent, they brave enough
assuming they know more.
consider the singular ways we live
consumed by our individualism, our greed.
consider the trees
and the many people who
puff this **** to cope on.
each year, iPhones get expensive
while screen light darkens the truth.
I rarely write with a pen if i don't have autocorrect
but I am a graduate, a grown up.
I am reconciling with this spell
from upon which i proceed
but this war still goes on.
imagine we find each other, then construct
mutual peace instead of flashing lightsabers
because we are so tough.
imagine we say our piece
while pinning respect on our sleeves,
then step out the street to hold hands.
its only the first century of this clone war
yet we are exhausted, from everyone
being so right and i wonder if we ever
gon slow down.

There is too much ice in this lemon aid
too much responsibility we'd ought not to take
if you wonder who "we" are
its best not we say.

In my birth-land they crying desperate for change
so they pack the street to advocate
only to be hit with straights.

there is too much at stake
the pastor say the world is on its last days
but to live and get older, isn't that our mandate?

The truth is as uncomfortable as wearing mask with eye-aid
those who wish to see have to endure the fog
there is much worry about the 1% prone to be affected
while the 99% are on parole and neglected.

Note, if you speak out of sync
you also will be hit with a straight.
its not only my birth-land that needs reforming.
best watch out where you stay.
echo chamber thicken up the walls
we all live in a safe.
opting to hear what we want them to say
maybe this is the beginning of a new dark age.

the first time I saw him I noticed an oddness about him
like that of a villian marked for death
no matter how try he to redeem himself
his next act broaden his mark, deepening this spell

I know death comes for everyone
but for him, death seems to already be there
those who work with him knows this
and stay very clear

he also, is aware of his spell
and the reject from the others
so he cons them like a villain marked for death
but can he con death?
can he con the mark set on his face
when he stares at the mirror, to see an image of himself

sometimes he worries
other times he doesn't seem to care
and it's during those times
when he seems not to care that
we laugh and wonder
"how does he live with himself?"

I have been tasked with the responsibility to lace the delicate fabric of my country
and at times, I toy with it.
coaxing its future with ballots purchase from a one-time-meal ticket.
striking deals with its days and
crowning the history I have chosen to stay.

I am no stranger to the intended walls placed all around me
by the ghost of the passed.
nor am I a sojourner
for my ancestor were born and fell into chains in this land.
The same land kept unpaved and deprived
thick with mud and thicker with thieves.
From a worthy beginning of proudness and freedom
our demise proceeds.

Why should I ignore my instinct to survive?
when the eyes that accuse me, envies me
wanting me to think like them
but would be very much like me
if tasked on this path.

Our future I assume, is mine
and steadily inflates with cries of the market mongers
and that of the child left to find work, or else
left to die.
A scrutiny I comfortably become unaware of.

I know very well of my crimes
and very well of their accusation, that is a lie
and very well of the difficulties that separates
the truth from the lies, when it all brews in the cauldron
that is time.

Nevertheless, far be it from to me
to let them open my memories and
perceive my face,
to let them learn my alphabet and
understand my takes.
Far be it, that the blade of virtue
make an incision on this hide that is my skin
because those who stand naked are seen
and never wins, for that is not how
the game that decides all our fate is meant to be.

These politicians
dance with their words
and sing with their eyes
then you give them your vows
although you know they have lied

they came as teens
from West Africa,
feet dancing from rhythms
uncivilized.  

they came to live,
to learn, to make
the most of life;
eager to leave
the place that birth
them life.

they went to schools,
later university, sat on desk
once sat by whites;
learning to pronouns
words with flair
nostrils to sound alike.

they absorb the culture,
sang the creed,
then, got some rights.
to never decreed, nor
intercede from whence
they arise.

We all look forward to the next things in life
The next NBA team to thrive
I am still a Golden State fan
Although I'm not looking forward to them, because they trash

We look forward to the seasons to come
waiting for the snow to melt, and the sun
waiting on the morning birds to chirp, and hum
the lawnmower to sing her energetic song

-I'm looking forward to this every second to pass
hoping that the next two would run
shooting through like a bullet from a gun-

We look forward to the arrival of loved ones
counting down the days that would bring them back to our world
because who wants to live through life
with no one to share their love?

We look forward to dreams and goals
the ones sow and the ones hoped
the ones that cause us to plan for tomorrow
enduring the adversary of today

We look forward to these things and many more
like a child mentally asking "Are we there yet?" eager for it to come
knowing that when we stop looking forward
it will be tough to live through the day
so we bury our heads in these sands of distractions
that's the only way we chose to be conscious
that's the only way we breathe again.

it's okay to be a man
to be an animal
to be cage-free
to seek dominion
to express emotions.

it's okay to have enough sleep

Even diamond chain fit on slaves
don't let pretty things hold you
b o n d a g e
don't lose touch of what's important
recognition and wealth is shallow
but I am betting you know all this already

As I came up the stairs,
I clung to the railings
hauling myself
to take another step.

like a cold plunge,
the city's air embraced my face
welcoming every ****** hair
with an unspoken cheer.

following my awakening,
the voice of the city
echoed like victory chants
in the halls of my head
through streetcars, motor vehicles
and the walking pedestrian.

And like a livewire,
I surged with life
feeling as though
part of something vast.

Glory be to God for dazzle things
that shines and glares
commanding beauty to bear.

for rain on the earth
producing meat and mead
that warms and fills.

for modern technology and advancements
messages through cell phones,
and cake in the fridge.

Glory to God for the mind that works
and the ones that sits,
the ones growing
and the ones that will soon sleep.

Glory to God in the highest
The father-bearer of beauty
in all things
Praise Him.

I took the charge in the summer
slowly putting my feet in the waters
it felt so good.

It was a clear day
as I willingly emptied out my thoughts
scanning the horizon
observing others who had taken the charge
now they are neck deep
while I study the path they took.

The feeling of the summer air
and their songs chirping like birds
memories I hope not to forget.

Yet in my moment of bliss
filled with excitement
unreluctant to retract my step
I noticed I was all alone
so I hid,
secluded to my thoughts
my joy exposed to my book
but no one close to share.

We will work together
through sweat and strain,
coffee in hand
as we drink late night
to numb the pain.
Times may bare tension
blicking with blame,
but we'll get down
to play the Game.

You have my back
and I yours, through the night.
Though the score low
we shall last the fight.
Like crazy glue
we will stick together
and fend off the storm,
as dark clouds break off,
We will stand.

Then we shall say
we fought together,
and never gave up
to die!

I watched as they danced
with joy on their face
words in their mouth
cupped hands held up high
as they jumped.

I watched
with a smile  
and danced some more.

I'm beginning to
realize that
I'm complicated.
I laugh easily
get mad easier.
joke a lot
holding on to emotions longer.

I'm beginning to
realize that I over think things
Zigzagging through different scenario.
Not stopping to underthink things
disbelieving that the good will come tomorrow.

The truth is I'm fragile
I haven't yet acknowledged it,
hoping I could piece things out
finding a piece that completes me.

Last night I talked to a real one
didn't spill the real thing.
it hard letting real ones go
especially those I hold close
the relationship ain't the same as it use to be.

In the hood, we the real the Robin hood  
as we take the money from the rich folks
distribute them to the poor folks
but everyone thinks
we're the *******

I woke up this morning the crack of dawn and
now I'm yawning as I proceed to ask myself why
why the mess up?
All you had to do was the lineup,
instead you put the clip down and let it sagged.

Dawg, I had big respect for you
but you gonna let it fly.
I tried,
but recently your cut game caught weak
and it hurts.

The other day, you said
"things have changed, it ain't a 10 dollar game
mans have to pay 15 to get a sweet fade"
so I paid.

it's obvious now as
price goes up, performance goes down.
All I get is a messy fade,
and a sagging bearded line.

I think i will have to cut the beard
and let it grow back.
The cut game is an extreme sport,
especially when things go bad

Crooked frame on a white wall
with its squared edge on all four sides
sagging to its left, lifting it right up
exposing its crookedness for all to see

Crooked frame on a white wall
why wasn't you adjusted?
wasn't your crooked stand exposed to every foreign eye?
or was your content so beautiful
that it captured the stare of all who glanced?

If so, it must have been content of pure gold
to have kept hungry eyes blindfold

It's weird
I never like it
never understand it
why would they have it?
it's weird
it's long, in fact too long!
it looks uncomfortable
it looks heavy.
it's weird
and expensive
no lasting value,
like a day it shortens
and slowly fades.
it's weird
but does have some
sort of elegances to it.
A fashion statement I guess.
It use to be weird
Acrylic nails.
I can't fully relate to it
but I'm beginning to see its beauty
now, it's weird that it's not weird anymore

We assignment felonies, who got no melody
It be a blessing to breathe but mans can't find the remedy.
School work got us incubated, well tubed in
Hospitalize for ages.
Penned in these cages
A constant grind on the daily.

Once a man emancipate
8 to 5 is gonna hit him with a straight.
From a frying pan to the fire
He's been stuck in a sticky state.
******* in a system that's meant for retire
That's what he gonna inspire.

Beware to those who tryna finesse the system
Life is gonna hit them with an intricate plot.
If you can't Euro-step them in quick time
It gonna be raps, just watch.

Sitting rethinking as time goes by
these thoughts are driving me crazy I am imploding inside.
Like shooting stars and Merry-go-round
it will be a miracle for me to hold them inside.

I'm slowly turning violent now she sees it in my eyes.
The thought of been alone is a fear in disguise.  

I have read these pages
and have seen these stories before.
What can I do to expect a different fall?
Why am I such a sucker for these words?

Why can't I be empty and wallow in pain.
I should jar my heart and let loose this shame.
I should set a fire to feelings running wild and free in play.
I should set a blind eye to reason please check me,
I don't think this is just a game.
I might just be hurtin' all excuses aside
Don't wanna open my eyes,
Just to see another lie.

She said I'm a privilege baby just because I'm first born.  
Truth is my emotions are flaring, they windy hurricane
Beating down my very thoughts I hope they okay.
Now she got caught in them, deep down I hope she
feels pain.
So just like me we can be trapped in a confused narrow state.
Maybe then she can feel my pain and confusion as it swirls  
like a pendulum that changes fate.  
I think and rethink things
scared to go wrong.
Lost in this dark ally hoping the light comes on.

I could be blundering but this feelings are too strong.

(Intro)
…two missed calls in the middle of the night and it
got me thinking what could have been of my night.

Backspin

In kitchen eating dinner
She came in with a thought to make dinner.
Being in the same room with her
It would have been awkward not to acknowledge her.  
So I strung up words, which caught her some kind of way
pulling her my way

Now she sat beside me as I ate dinner
We talked about family, friends and her potential dinner.
That was when she told me she got a midterm the next day
and wouldn’t be making dinner.
Her plan was to go study with friends and buy some quick dinner.

Now it got me thinking
If her plan was to do quick dinner, why the trip to the kitchen for dinner?
Anyhow, moving on

(Outro)
Time went by, people came and went
But there we were talking over dinner.
She proceed to ask about tattoo and if I got some
I told her I couldn't do the pain and the cost.
She told me she got some ink on her
I offered to see after she got back from studying.
In which she said she would call me

She called twice in the night as I slept wondering if she would call.
Walking up to see …(Intro)

High school wasn't big enough to
encapsulate the beauty you possess
and now on my IG feeds you appear,
glowing like the morning sun
wrapped in long dark hair.

Currently, we are cities apart
but my words for you still draw blanks
such beauty I can't understand,
my thoughts choking  
and I still don't know why.

We seldom talk now and then on snap chat
but it's all an act
I know we don't attract.

You different now you not that girl
the beauty is there but your lifestyle changed.
I guess it's as a result of growing up
not sure why mine hasn't changed.

I just want to stop being attracted to you
Wubs
Can you tell me how?