I was hungry
You fed me not
So I drank a few glasses of water
Hoping it’ll curb my hunger
But that it did not
So I drank a few more
But I hunger still
My bladder full
But this pressing need
Has now made me your fool
So I beg you.

Careless with their lives
They slog in infested slimy waters
In rubber shoes covered in holes
Merging bodies with all the inhabitants of the world beneath their feet
They trudge on

They’re deceptive
Picking up dirts to throw it back in
In those times they’re not seen
Or so they believe

They’ve reduced themselves
To the dirt they feed themselves
And they care not
Their pores clogged with infested slimy waters

Exhibiting animalistic behaviors
They’ve now become barbarians
“Buy us water”,
They cry together.
He who is living a deceptive life
Trudging around in the slimy waters
A place no one has sent them

They feed themselves with those slimy hands?
It’s no wonder their mate died
I stamp my feet in anger!
Arrrrrrrg!
Do they not see the danger?

I do not feel pity for them
Their state of being
Though perplexing it seems
They chose this.
Their families I weep for
Bodies coated with infested slimy waters
They go home.

I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.

I experienced experience
I witnessed experience

Swarming like wild bees
Swimming from the brooks
Of outer Marina
Racing into the fountain
Of Islet of Lagos.
Our Lagos,
Their Lagos.
Diverse religionists
On spiritual missions,
Raising up hands in supplications
For open heaven,
For praise and worship.
Some on mundane missions.
Spivs, urchins alike

But this congestion suffocated
Spaces wept for control
Sea breezes searched for outlets
From outer Marina

And wants of oxygen waves
Hands for recognition.
Both faithfuls, penitents , miscreants needed air for survival.
Protestations appealed for audience.
Legs spent and tired ,
Craving for rhapsodic attention

Where are more seats?
Where are more spaces?

Helpless ushers uncaring.

But from the stage roars
Songs of inspirations ,
Songs of supplications
Like war cries.
Sounds from desk to dawning,
Music from dawn into deskiness.
And seat glued me till cockcrow

Night broke into day.
Fading music expelled adherents
Out of arena.
A loud silence now reigned.

Freedom from the fangs of stampede.
I experienced experience
I witnessed experience

Sit Still,
Try to Relax
I’m only just beginning...