My pen is
not Don Quixote.
It is a brave warrior
just like Don Quixote but
different in battle field.
This my pen is a
General in the
people's army.
It never retreats
or surrenders,
a workaholic.
My pen can be
pesky at times
but not unruly,
and not really a gentleman,
it is an erratic genius.
A minister of peace,
a councillor in crisis,
an advocate in justice,
a passionate lover,
prophetic in utterances,
intuitive and psychic in nature,
it  reads and knows your mind.
My pen,
common but uncommon,
ordinary but extraordinary,
a two edged sword,
piercing the physical even
deeper and penetrating to the
dividing line of the breath of life
and the spirit and of joints
and marrows of the deepest
part of our nature,
exposing and sifting,
analysing and judging
the very thoughts
and purposes of the heart.
My pen is unique,
stealth in action,
a smooth talker,
loves to be held
and pampered.
It has no time to check time.
My pen,
this my pen is my friend.
A good company indeed.
A covert operator.

©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

she reads books and she plays music
the cute, innocent
clumsy girl
with freckles on her cheeks

you like to read and listen to music
the cool, handsome
sweet-talking man
who likes freckles on her cheeks

[ or at least you said you did ]

she rolls her eyes at your compliments
the cautious, bright
guarded girl
with curiosity in her eyes

you lay them on thick
the certain, sharp
imprudent man
with hidden agendas on your lips

she lingers a little longer
in hopes of crossing your path throughout the day

she laughs at your jokes
and you know they're not funny

she sings for you in the car because
you like her voice

[ or at least you said you did ]

she's become good at excuses
the hopeful, naive
kind-hearted girl
with sureness in her words

you soak them up
the stark, ill-intentioned
vacant boy
with uncertainty in your voice

she gave all she had to care for you,
the smooth, clever
self-serving boy

you convinced her that you loved her

[ or at least you said you did ]