Fresh, unplucked,
Pure, like the morning dew,
This, she has docked,
Until, with the one, she will do.

Aye, you take away,
My livelihood with a wicked smirk,
Know ye, today,
The heaven multiply your sorrow's birk.

Bless me with your vengeance,
Curse me with your love,
I seek no repentance,
From hell, or from heaven above.

She’s not beautiful,
But can take your breath away,
Her smile may not be that wonderful,
But she’ll have your heart any day.

Not on a platter, no; even of gold,
This black box I yearned from days old,
Though rotten dead, and frigid cold,
Power, will come, yes! from where it is sold.

All in one,
One in all,
Can do much more,
Much more can do.

Like a pregnant woman,
I am expectant,
I am an unlabelled can,
Holding some magic instant.

Punch, click, click, punch,
Hit away your frustrations,
You get a zillion mentions,
But never a sensible crunch.

One rose, in a field of tulips,
Hot red, hotter lips,
Step in to pluck,
Wish me some luck.

Get away!
From me,
Curse I, the day!
With me, you chose to be.

Toward the setting sun,
Orange in the distant horizon,
My mind is set on this journey,
Even if I have no money.

Knowing everyone cannot be pleased,
Then why try, anyway?
There is peaceful closure,
In realising this simple, yet powerful, conclusion.

Out of the green,
Comes this feathery blue,
Shapely to behold,
So captivating and true.

Hips that glorify the heavens,
And a smile that wakes up the dead,
They tempt me, when your lips are red,
And your scent leaves me in sixes and sevens.

You suffocate me,
Pressure me on all sides,
But I remember the joyful rides,
Now all I want to do is...just flee.

Extending over many weeks,
The little one continues his tricks,
Kicking, turning and punching,
Almost ready to be the newest bundling.

Can of worms,
Pandora's box,
Spill the beans,
***** linen.

I keep hope breathing,
Never fearing expiration,
No matter the present condition,
I shall never cease hoping.

To deny myself, pleasures;
That still, small voice,
Instructing I thirst in seven measures,
That I take ashes, as weapon of choice

When the old die young,
And the young never see the dusk,
Know there is something wrong,
When the living fight over dried husk.

But when I saw her my heart danced,
A dance that thumped and jumped,
She was everything my desire wanted,
And more so that my soul daily worshiped;

But the day I saw her with another,
Everything I built was torn asunder,
The man, certainly, was not her brother,
They looked too happy and too warm together;

But what did she want?
We were young, and sure would enjoy heaven's grant,
Yes, I had no job, but certainly not a pissant,
Together, I believed, our lives could be vibrant;

But alas! Conception did not come to term,
Something went wrong with our germ,
She refused to be my gem,
And broke, into pieces, my world's stem.

Cold, cold afternoon,
Such and such crossed my mind,
For hours keeping me in a bind,
Now hope I see in the rising moon.

In bed, darkness, no power,
Bingeing on Supernatural,
Terrible pain around the lower lumbar,
Broke, not a single dime in my PayPal;

As my daughter lay sleeping beside me,
My son in the other room with his mother,
I suddenly am aware of the things I fail to see,
That truly I am blessed beyond any mundane bother;

But then again the morning brings its own worries,
My ageing mother afflicted by pain of her sister's loss,
Barely enough to save up for vacation stories,
And a country that does not care about us.

Remember us,
The minority, so christened,
What we have, we got by force,
Better, if they had listened.

Might a place,
In this vastness,
We find sweetness,
In love's space.

A sliver of grey,
Peeking through the ashen sky,
Then all turned crimson,
And the world hushed in unison.

The sequence of our emotions,
Is a new tradition,
Packed in discrete portions,
Not a random relation.

Everyone is hungry,
But no one is angry,
Choosing to embrace this life of suffering,
And all the time smiling.

It's a done deal,
Here's the King's seal,
And when the bell's peal,
No worries about the next meal.

The warmth of family and dear friends,
Hot red and dazzling white,
The beauty of evening sunlight,
Together, you and I, until the journey ends.

The dead man left trouble alive,
The quick are stuck in a power race,
The blind woman with sword and scale,
Scolds all her children and sends them to school.

The girls have no blame,
For the indolence of men,
365 days are all the same,
Dusty roads with ***** mien.

Eyes that melt a bad day,
And hold the blues at bay,
Nothing can hold my smile,
When your voice comes after the dial.

I doubt myself,
Many times unsure,
Would I make that impact,
Or be forgotten like I never came?

Out of will,
Handcrafted, discovered,
Or prayed into existence,
Every thing invented;

Nothing ever created,
To shorten, strengthen,
Or make easier,
Ever turned out better.

Woman of mine,
Tastes like cherry-chocolate wine,
Omoyele, that'e her name,
Or Tolulope, 'tis all the same.

That moist thatch of loneliness,
Buried between sadness,
Begs for warm fondness,
And a generous dose of roughness.

A situation of panic,
Heart skips by the second,
All because I bought a bond,
That I must pay, in full, nine to nine, every week.

At every turn of this hard life,
Just before I round the difficult bend,
I look back at past strife,
And forward to the journey's end.

But I made it past nineteen!
No boyfriends, or unwanted pregnancies!
Now, allow me beyond where you have been!
Let me take my own chances!

That evening,
We sat long together,
I did not say a thing,
And it cost us our forever.

Destitute from birth,
They grow to embrace death,
With nothing worth living for,
They take terror on a daily tour.

This forbidden love of ours,
Wrought in defiant rebellion,
Tongues and creed in ****** opposition,
But by cupid we build impregnable towers.

The good ones have been taken,
The pretty ones don't want me,
As far as I can see,
No better off than forsaken.

Dear husband, this commodity is free,
Your mind is always on a distracting spree,
All I want from you is some attention,
And you can ignore my stifling emotion.

A seedling thrown to ground,
Will decay and sleep a season,
With fire and water abound,
I awaken to fulfil life's reason.

And when the demons,
From your unlikeable past;

Drink sodas and lemons,
With your present cast;

Know ye that time calls upon thee,
To make peace your cup of tea.

You go left,
When we turn this way,
And rolling over,
Is not how you play.

We come, here, for a reason,
Then in a season,
We leave well behind,
All, the beautiful, and the unkind.

The woman for me,
The mother of our children,
Beautiful like the open sea,
Mysterious beyond what the eyes can see.