They will tell you
All poetry has been written
There is nothing new
Under the moon
But let me tell you
They don’t know you
You are as unique
As the DNA that exists
Within your frame
The ripples on your thumbprint
No one ever had the same.

Listen...

You have something to say
Say it proudly
Say it boldly
Never let them scold you.

Never let them make you go away.

I’ve decided to quit smoking
So I stop searching for fire from strangers
When I’m craving the taste of your lips


R.M

Selected to win,
elected to perform,
elevated beyond
this realm but
didn't know how
powerful yet
he can become.
Not sure what
to do for
he is not
awakened.
Frail and weak,
but surrounded
by the influence
of the elites.
Not at all dejected,
but empowered
to be in sync
with the best.
He's so much
deflated and
cannot run the race.
But he's winning
all the time,
but by chance.
Luck on his side,
but how far
can he go
before another
take his place.
Not much time
is left for the ****.
He's not still awake.
Tumult of pesky,
painful and unruly,
unfortunate and unfair
freaky circumstances,
popping up here
and there.
So shameful to behold.
With what tools
then can we use
to wake him up.
I wonder,
i just wonder.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

cat-eyed passion
lurking in the tall grass
all ears for years
but I knew...
Caught a whiff
early on
and she still stayed hidden
teasing and teasing
looking for the right time
such alien patience
and dedication
equal only to madness

Lying on the couch
Like a sketch
Lies my mother
With the same breath
As I expressed

Sometimes in a disco
I find myself lost in the music
Immersed in the lyrics
Of the sounds
Like the wasps *******
from the nectar
Unaware of the pollen
Flower dances
In the love of creation
And nuance