Pray that the sun rises in the east,
And pray, too, that the earth spins along its axis,
Make supplications that the moon shines at night,
And intercede on behalf of the many rats in the sewers;

Here we are, people of state,
Vagabonds in high places have come again,
Pulling the chord of our collective mentality,
Yanking the chain of our divisive idiosyncrasies;

For many, many seasons they have harvested,
Fruits borne by the motherland,
Furnished their illicit barns with treasures of state,
Fueled their desires with the blood of the children;

Yet a time comes when the seas will roar in tempestuous rage,
The four winds cry out in deafening anger,
Night and day both refuse to do their bidding,
The earth refuse to stomach the wickedness of their inhumane abominations;

Not too long, oh brethren,
The time is dearly nigh,
That the shackles of our backwardness,
Will turn into tools for our deserved happiness.

Child of necessity,
Born on a blanket of hope,
To a mother who can barely cope,
And a father who roams the city;

With so much tears,
Mother gathers a few rags together,
Prays fate will find one better,
To love him all his years;

Tempered by harsh realities of life,
Scavenging on scrapes and bits,
Grows leathery skin to survive the streets,
Each sunrise and sunset a renewed strife.

The white man's medicine,
Says there's no sin,
But the gods are awake,
Angry, and lives, will be at stake.

This, and not, that,
Friend, girlfriend,
Fated, that is what,
Intertwined until the very end.

Deep within I think a darkness,
Something to destroy everything,
Then comes a shinning,
That fills up the nothingness.

The days I fall hardest,
Are the ones kindest,
And were I to surrender,
Then all go assunder.

Did you see my jaw drop,
And my eyes pop!
Wow, what a creature!
Of unimaginable pleasure.

Still I see you in my dreams,
You taunt me, and jeer,
This is more than I can bear,
Thus I go to swim, tonight, the ****** streams.

for many ran on fumes,
these few years,
living daily on hope,
and nothing else;

a great number wanted,
but the heavens never granted,
the privilege to see aturn in the tide,
to the dearly departed, sleep on;

and for the quick,
welcome to making history,
a rare opportunity to be amongst,
the countable, the reachable, the available;

whatever it is worth,
the next four can never be as darkly,
as the eight spent in vast backwardness,
time truly deserving to be forgotten;

but for the lessons learnt ,
nothing nostalgic of the cowtostrophic era,
every single element will get what is deserving,
karma always finds a way;

and for the hopeful many,
may your aspirations meet rapid improvements,
because today marks a departure from irreverence,
into days and nights of renewed hope.

Alarm goes off at three,
And the day, for me, begins.
As usual, the preliminary fixes,
Before the others come awake;

Quick check on my vitals,
Nothing seems out of place,
Satchet water, three? No, two,
Then a short visit to the loo;

By the time it chimes five 'o clock,
Cereals for the children and teeth brushed,
Then mommy runs them a warm bath,
And daddy packs the school lunches;

All of these appear routine,
But for us, a way of life,
Going on seven moons,
Simply, the joys of fatherhood;

But I digress, many pardons,
For today another year is added,
The heavens have been merciful,
And reflections are no pastime;

Serious matters become frequent,
Issues of the afterlife more apparent,
Leaving a legacy to be proud of,
And making it beyond midlife;

The Mrs, as usual, with pleasant surprises,
Makes the day more than ordinary,
Pulls all the impossile stops,
Leaving stress to look so secondary;

Going into the new year,
The first without Mom and Dad,
Makes me wonder in, future 'spect,
Now, life has surely begun.

Hard to keep my eyes away,
From the voluptuousness strutting the streets,
*** in stilettos and tight pants,
Rouge lips and screaming cleavages.

Divided from within,
Torn by rumours and avarice,
Children grow into selfish service,
And hearts are closed to love and sharing.

Dark and mysterious,
Petite and precious,
Not met her before,
But she be stuff of folklore.

Where were you,
When love threw me lemons;
Tormented by blonde demons,
Where were you?

I have stared hunger in the face,
Many a time it breasted the tape,
Left out of breath in this rat race,
Constantly fighting this starving ****.

Win, lose or draw,
I kick fear out of the door,
Pick I off of the floor,
Spread my wings, mount up  and soar!

I have ruminated,
Many a time,
Over the sheer wickedness,
of men;

With guns the take life,
Not offended, unprovoked;

They fill our eyes,
With painful, hot tears:
parents and loved ones,
left to mourn and grieve;

Where is your humanity?
Elected, employed to guard life,
You take wantonly, brutally;

We shed many a tear,
daily,

The day cometh,
When this half-full gourd,
Will spill crimson content,
And hell, in all its fury,
Will have never witnessed,
Such a thing...as that;
When the night becomes day...
...and the day refuses...to be born.

The brown of harmattan,
Dry, windy and dehydrating,
But if there be one thing,
Peace from the silent, old noisy fan.

Breathe all over me,
Secure your arms around me,
Say you'll belong only to me,
Build all your love...around me.

Motorised thunder,
Tearing the forests assunder,
Death lay in their wake,
And the fear, no, 'tis not fake.

Good cheer, my beloved,
The heavens have you covered,
Make merry, for thine goodly tide,
For ye have been increased, on every side.

"Don't touch me!"
She screamed!!
But her face sweetly beamed,
When I pulled her, very close, to me.

Be true to your heart,
Let your head rationalise,
And your intellect theorise,
But you knew right from the start.

And eventually you find it,
But give all of what you are,
The gods have given you a gift,
At least guard it like you truly care.

Hooked on eyes,
That shone like dazzling stars,
These are no lies,
See, here, diamond bars.

Locked in a frenzy,
Pores dripping like crazy,
She burns me with oohs! and aahs!
Lifts me far, beyond, the twinkling stars.

Hail! Hail!! Haill!!!
The newly born,
On this goodly morn',
Shhhhhhhh, do not wail.

Properly or improperly...connected,
Wired...or rewired,
Banded, disbanded or not,
Augmented in a virtual reality;

The world evolves from evening to morning,
With miracles every sunup,
Brilliant minds vending awesome,
Of things never before seen,

But are these...really?
The ancients, haven't they?
Surely extraterrestrial,
Bifrost, Valhalla... Asgard?

So our grandfathers have gathered,
To pen resolve not to insult,
But barely had the ink dried,
Than a shocker left our jaws slackened!

I stopped looking,
Many moons back,
Then I started hooking,
Up, and around, the lunar  track.

Success is a long road,
With many stops and frustrations,
Failure creates unwholesome situations,
But a strong heart is a welcome goad.

Tip toe, tip toe,
And there she goes,
Light feet on heavy *****,
Hugging the night in red nylon tights.

The fifty-five-year-old toddler,
And her daddy of seventy-two,
Played, "I am a soldier,"
So, what can you do?

Sunshine!
You're ever so fine!!
You warm up all the cold wetness,
And spread 'round beautiful, bright happiness.

The very reverend bigot,
Shamelessly oblique crackpot,
Says one thing in the light,
And does another at night;

Mass hysteria, a sea of cudgels,
With one mind, they rush forward,
Bearing down on the unfortunates,
That went in search of greener pastures.

Beyond the gates of that year,
Consider the heavens played a part,
Be you lucky to have crossed,
A crossing quite significant into a new start;

Because not many will be there,
Not a few succumbed to our fears,
Of the sheer wickedness of the past,
Eight horrible years of blood and tears;

Whether it be a fortune,
Only time will indeed unfold,
For there's actually something here,
A better story waiting to be told.

Quite oft' we're haunted,
By the choices we make,
The life we wanted,
Over what's at stake.

Beautiful one; oh, see her shine,
Gracefully, she struts like the gazelle,
Gifted, with proportions that are divine,
This one, she is more than the belle.

What has love got to do?
Who needs all the drama,
When the script can be torn up?
Leaving you cold, and miserable, at the bus stop.

Each day’s the same,
The night’s wet pillowcase;
The morning brings in the shame,
Same time, every time, same place.

It was fun while we texted,
I enjoyed every tapping bit,
Shame we got to call it quit,
Now I'm gonna find who's nexted.

In cold blood,
The gourd is broken,
In crimson flood,
It lay crooked and ashen.

The ones that bore me,
They are now no more,
The rest by each other,
They look on, unaware;

The past few moons,
For me have been tempestuous,
Navigating economy subtleties,
Around the harshness of present realities;

Sometimes my heart protests,
Send me a-clutching,
Reminds me in no mean terms,
Each beat is to pampered and nurtured;

Looking around me,
Is there anything lacking,
Yes, certainly there are,
And of course plenty to be grateful for;

So, laying here with my thoughts,
The moonshine barely casting a shadow,
Ticking closer, every second by every minute,
Toward the hour of hearty returns.

The charlatan went into fervent mumbo jumbo,
Throwing the crowd into a crazed uproar,
But the stiff remained in cold limbo,
Unperturbed, and oblivious, of their stupid frenzy.

Whence have you fled,
Taking all of me for granted?
But cometh swiftly my wrath,
Like hell on a terrible high.

The cat's ****,
Thumps the rat's heart,
"Mom, she's been here?"
"Charles, don't play there!"

Everything went dark,
Cold sweat ran down my face,
Goose pimples as big as grapes,
Teeth won't stop chattering;

But moons before,
I knew no lack,
Meat and drink,
And a warm bed;

Plunged into daily hunger,
Worms threatened to down tools
Faculty refused to coordinate,
Vision played hide and seek;

Hands became detached,
Use of language elusive
Answers refused to come,
And failure became imminent;

Thus began the many travails,
Up the avenue of starvation,
Drawing down stored up resources,
Inching toward scrawny days;

Yes, failure did come,
That semester was dreary,
Cold nights did not help,
Hunger defeated me;

When help came,
All hope had expired,
But just,
And it was sweet, very sweet.

Mounds of earth, mounds of earth,
Weighing down atrocities of terror,
Cut down in their prime,
Mowed down in their sleep;

One day, farmers,
Carved up, chopped up
The next day, cattle breeders,
Shot down, clobbered down;

A limb for a limb,
Toe for toe,
Mother for daughter,
Son for father,

Mass resting places,
Sit atop the plateau,
Home to many unknowns,
Poor victims of ignorance.

Never known bread or butter,
The comfort of a warm meal,
A very, very distant deal,
What is more real is a cold drink from the gutter,

Now twenty-one, can neither read nor write,
Wise only in ways rather dodgy,
Would lay ambush for money,
Just for a pleasurable night;

Looking back at time wasted,
Old and grey, a gentle smile plays,
Memorable tunes of weather- beaten days,
And all those horrible monsters proudly bested.