In a juncture of three years he traipsed ***** nilly close to christ
He was the treasurer and all the finances he kept safe in a pouch hanging on his chest
He was a chosen in the midst of the chosen twelve he existed
All the miracles the son of man performed he witnessed
In his gospel all he recorded
Yet deep within he charred with bitterness he was dissapointed with the long awaited messiah
Tears of hatred soaked his soul
Ironically he felt betrayed this is not the saviour he had longed for
His iron heart had yearned for revolution
All his selfish heart wanted was the surrender of the roman
His heart pumped blood saturated with patriotism and christ with his spiritual
Kingdom was a foe of the jews whose throat were parched with the thirst of a political king
He had been preordained and he had to fulfill the divine decree
It was a calling he couldn't overcome
Thats when the ministry of christ was done and together they sat to eat the last meal the lord dropped a hint about him
He sopped a bread in wine and urged him to hastily fulfill his mission as the other disciples sat there clueless
This was a golden chance for he knew by assuming the role of a traitor he will precipitate the action of messiah and induce him to manifest his miraculous powers
For he longed for this savior to perfom the miracle he had pergorme throughout judea
For thirty pieces of silver he betrayed his master Because of his greed he condemned an innocent man to be banished from the land of living to abyss
And when the son of man was condemned his sense of guilt stirred from a deep slumber
He became despondent at his repulse by the  chief priest and elders he cast down the accursed payment into the santuary
The gnawing guilt took him to a tree and with a thread rope he terminated his life
He burst asunder and for hundred year the smell of his bowels lingered in the potters field of which the betrayal money bought

On the hill of skull the man on the cross breathed last and into hell he descended not only to settle scores with the lord of underwords lucifer but to free the soul of his follower from abyss
For it was written he had to die for salvation of humankind and his betrayer was the first to b redempted

The man called judas triggered a series of pretold happening
The man called judas fulfilled old centuries prophecy
The man called judas ensured redemption knocked in every sinners door
The man called judas jumpsttsarted the birth of christianity
The man called judas need a better slot in our history

I sat at the edge of the metallic seat  my bare buttock sizzling electric shock as she knelt there her head buried between the V of my leg as she embarked on a mission to make my snake weep
My wet eyelids twitched playfully i shivered though my naked body was saturated in my own sweat
Her workmanship was undeniably a talent
How her sleek cold tongue and her soft palm worked in mutual partnership was a cryptic mystery
She swirled the tongue round my sugarcane and her hand stroked up and down in calculated steps
The feeling was magical ripples and goosebumps decorated my African skin
My warm blood coursed all over my body as the body pistons pumped with herculean energy
Her warm saliva covered my hard snaked as she worked with painters concentration
A real proffesor she was in her trade
At time she would lift her eyes and wink at me she understood too well i was possessed by her tongue's magic
For the next half hour her tongue studied my maleness morphology
She ****** pinched and cuddled my ***** and the pentacle of love
She neither lost the momentum nor slowed the pace
Deeper n deeper she let my snake explore her mouth cavity
At times she would gagged as the eyeless ***** probed in her throat
Her smile gave thumbs up she enjoyed every moment of this job
My nose was flared as i breathed like a charging irritated buffalo
The pleasure rode me to the realm of gods
From a dead slumber she awakened my glands
Whirlpool of sensation swirled on my sensitive glan
And euphoric spasm swept me till i was one concentric feeling of fluids
Warm milky tears gushed and hit the back of her throat she paused and breathed deep then resumed her unfinished business
She hungrily lapped  the oozing cream and once more winked as my snake went limp.....she bit her luscious lips with lust

Wallontly i glared toward the heavens
Seeking homage with the deities less registered in my recess
Sanity compromised my doubtfulness
As the blue sky and the grinning yellow occulus obscured my quest
"You can't see god"they warned my sight deprived eyes
Discernible kaleidoscopic star performed a victory dance in my cornea
I squinted in surrender

Choreographing my eidetic
Memory wikipidia
I vividly recall being
cautioned about mentioning the name of the gods in vain
Yet here i was
Calling my lungs out
Coughing and spitting profanities
Just trying to catch their attention
I searched with futility for heaven,paradise or even olympus
Whichever residence the gods laughed at my pitiful threats

I called my voice hoarse cursed the moon and swore never to think about the gods
Yet as i lay my tattered flame at night i wondered
Could they have heard me but decided to play hide and seek
Could they have seen me but decided to spare my pathetic human soul
So in dream land is drowned and i dreamt death....

THE LOST RACE

They have lived in a time capsules
Cocooned in a foundation of lie
History and windmills of times has hastily passed their sluggish body
The cold desert wind and the ****** splatter of raindrops has swept and washed their age to saint nowhere
High in the realms of heaven sad sun has risen million times casting a halo of fiery fire round their territories
Angels gods and demons have raged eternal war for the very soul of these immortal mortals
Clock has circumnavigated its face million times and yet their hearts have been adamant
Hardened like the frozen Antarctica not even the hades fire can defrost them
Upon this wicked world they have nested forever awaiting no judgement
Cobwebs of wickedness have wove round their blackened heart
Their heartbeat resounds like Poseidon's trident as they pump their filthy blood
With wax stack ears they haven't perceived the drums of the forthcoming war that have been echoing over the peaks of snow capped mountains
Tattoos and ceremonial colours paints their bodies not in readiness for the war but defiance
When the moon awakes it ferociously beg for the night to die to escape the nightmare of shining to this lost race......

DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC

   Dear mother
My guardian angel and protector
Am afraid to tell you
He was staring at me
When i went to the loo
His cold gaze pierced my back
And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine
A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being
When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me

Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book
From head to toe i was studied
I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me
To him i was a piece of an apple pie
I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips
Lust was painted all over his mane covered face
Mom i was really scared
I regretted stepping in that club

When i returned to my seat he bought me beer
My liqour thirst was hard to bear
I betrayed my masculinity
And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity
My mind was having a cold war with my soul
Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body
Where did i stand???

He welcomed himself in my table
With a gecko like grin etched on his face
"You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man
My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids
I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline
He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs
He winked as his blinking broke the speed record
I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn

He thought his tactics had worked
I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast
He hastefully followed suit
"Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer
"Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull
I heard a deafening yell
The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car
So dear mom its not my fault am in jail
Am here because i fought
Mom am not a law breaker
Am here because i am homophobic

Am not writing to whom it may concern
But to the poets whose silence i want to discern
You are the prophets of the
Word
And if you mute you earn our world no profit
Am worried you have gone hiding
And abandoned your call of writing
You have denied your pens the justice
And you have played mute in many instances
Where is your voice?
Your fingers have slept
And you haven't poured your heavy soul unto the paper
Why are you not talking about the evil that has cast a blanket over earth dwellers?
Don't you feel this tangible darkness that has enveloped our planet?

Where has your voice been when fathers have been sleeping with daughters
Or it no longer matters
For mothers to lie with their sons?
Why have you spared your ink
And just watch as kids stop taking milk and water and fight over beer
None of you has been bold enough to write about that man who betrayed his nation for a piece of gold
Have you forsaken your mission?

Your silence is too loud
Are you dumb of the warning sirens
And like the ostrich,you have buried your head to the soil with pride
I wanna know why you have played dumb:why thee borrowed your ears to the waters and non of this you hear
And our women throw their foetuses away like a man doing open excreta
Arise oh writers arise and wipe away this coming darkness with the light from your papers for when the good are silence its evil done enough
I wonder why writing pads are clean
Yet men have stop desiring man and are siring thoughts  to woo men  
Why have you not quoted the scripture to condemn this abomination?
"Behold woe unto to man who lies with another man"
Are there no writers to pull of this dark shirt of evil we have donned?

Am not playing saint by asking these questions
But my conscious is burdened
I need to offload this nagging from my shoulders
Only you poets who can set my mind free
So arise African writers
Let your pens bleed the truth
Two wrong never make a right
But what you write can rectify all wrongs
For prosperity will never forgive a man who goes to sleep during the day while goats eat his barn of yams