She's open like a 9 till 5 store, night
shift worker short skirt cleavage
enhancing bra, making it look like
she has more than she has got. She
can offer you different services, its
just how much paper you have in
your wallet to what you get and see.

She smiles, does the deed she'll
swallow for extra, but she asks are
you clean? She smiles when finishes
licks the last bit off her mouth, she
gets out and again walks the street
to find the next drive by wallet, that
wants some late night fun.

She smiles when she sees you but
under that smile is disgust, a job not
wanted not wrote on her next CV. A
single mother with no job, a friend
looks after the baby, a job not wanted
she throws up after every meet.

The world is not what you think, some
do this 9 to 5 job not because they like
it, but to pay bills to put food on the
plate. Because no one is going to help,
the father ran out and left her with
the baby. She is strong for her little one
and does this so she can care for her
baby. hoping that one day she'll
not need to walk the streets.

isn't only in the number
of likes and reads and
comments obtained,
but also in it own self.

Like crystal sand pebbles
Washed away from seashore
Like shooting stars in space
Propelled out of the night sky

Our beautiful black pearls
Young and innocent and ambitious
Full of life, full of tomorrow
Were stolen away in daylight
Away from unnatural habitats
Away from unsafe clusters
Away from our sleepy watchful eyes
Loosing their buoyancy
To the same fearsome monsters
That have plagued the land much
Bursting balloons at parties
Bringing mayhem as they visit
Making our warriors look childish
Forcing help from the world over.

The sun has gone to sleep
The moon has loomed too long
But to hope, we will cling
Till we find our lost pebbles…


© Raphael Uzor

Through my continued journey in life
I’ve heard these words over and over
Reeling out of unwashed mouths (mine inclusive)
Ringing like unanswered noisy telephones
Spoken with little consideration
Voiced with no conviction whatsoever!

How could such passions be love?
When they so easily become hate
At the slightest provocation

How could such evil be love?
When you seek to harm me
Just because I sought another’s attention

How could such illusions be love?
When it quickly evaporates
At the mere sight of one more attractive

How can such madness be love?
When you turn violent
At the barest confrontation

How can such wickedness be love?
When you would rather see me dead
Than in the hands of another

How can such hypocrisy be love?
When you can cheat on me at will
And crave my faithfulness and loyalty

How can such lust be love?
When all you want is ***
Or some other material gain

How can such deceit be love?
When I am only a means to an end
Some tool to be used and discarded

How can such intolerance be love?
When you cannot forgive me
For erring, as expected of human nature

How can such selfishness be love?
When the only reason you care
Is for your perceived desired benefits

How can such scam be love?
When it only depends on good looks,
Fame, power or influence…

The purity of this precious idea
Has been grossly adulterated
By our wickedness and evil schemes

Its divinely intended beauty
Has been stained to triviality
By our spur-of-the-moment,
Superficial quest for gratification
Of unholy desires…

From my naïveté and observation,
There is no love among mortals
What we have is at best,
Mutual understanding and respect

For only the bond of a mother,
To her offspring- born and unborn
Comes close to a faint idea of love…

Not to mention,
The unconditional love of God!


© Raphael Uzor

Will an eligible bloke happier be if he
Marries a ranking *ele like Miss Universe
With all her glory and graces, and 'cause
Of marriage mirth? Will a sheila pretty
An unbroken regalement have for a dream
Prince Charming--the fairy man of her whim?

Will the soul be jolly for the sophomore
More than for the frosh rapture of success
Had in the Ivy League of cosmic business,
When the heart cut a caper and an encore
Of hilarity requests of narrowed life--
To have constant binge in lieu of strive?

What man is wholly from trouble free, whose
Being be to sadness inured? Within, the
Spokes do sometimes snap at the rotary
Wheels of serenity, and chaos is let loose.
What thus can stay the pillars of pleasure in
A plagued world is above this little noggin.

The fall of any man is
hid
in forbidden things.