I crawled quietly off the day's activity
My head was still banging hard like the hit of a starved lover boy
Coupled with the blessing of downpour upon the earth some hours before
Retiring to my spacious room with nothing but the beauty of a carpet
Upon the supposed protection of my duvet
A merrying sound of some uninvited guests dancing towards my crib
They all beamed so well with a sweet smile on their face
Their chants wasn't victorious as it supposed to be
But a beautiful chants of conspiracy and rebellion
I cannot be a target I murmured under my large cover
They all drag my flesh among each other
This is unfair
My heart cry for help but my mouth has been muted
It was suppose to be a celebration of whatever
But here they are feasting on my already tiring body
How come you all want to feast but forget your meal at home
I asked one thousand and one times
I hope I will find something within me when the sunrise
Upon this sadness
I laid myself totally for their evil party
© Wale **** 2019
The green banks where I played
I'm back, on my guard
The streets of my youth
I cry and hug
amma and my sisters
I won't leave here again
even if I have to fight for it
It's not in mý hand
to **** or to die
No longer can I be an exile
a polite guest conforming
like a slave
I'm back on my guard
in my own house, and you, brother
the oldest, you must be wiser
can crown himself
at best he can be a servant
600 BC – Seven against Thebes (Aeschylus, 467 BC); Polynices sieges the city of Thebes
1200 BC – Mahabharata
The last rays of the sun are touching the third floor of the buildings.
Same color as the clouds.
For as long as I look at it, it will stay there,
perfect and frozen and beautiful.
The moment I look away it will be gone.
If only I could hold this last light in my hands,
like a cup to keep me warm,
like a bowl that brims over.
Peek through the blinds again tomorrow, love.
I'll still be here.
This time no single bird
can not sing
the dawn song.
A mental gun shooter
said in a
This time no flower
can be thrown
in this globalisation era.
A mental gun shooter
said in a high school.
This time no
excuse will be
for last time to
support the word
A mad gun
shooter in govt run
Nice to meet you.
- No, nice to meet you.
- Who invited you?
- The Crow.
- And you?
- My boss.
- I was just wondering if,
by any chance,
you knew how to hunt rabbits.
- No, but I know how to follow orders
and shut up.
- Well, good for you!
I'll rather be black and fear the light,
then blue and having nothing to do.
- I was just talking about colors.
What is your favorite color?
- I thought so...
- Because you're wearing pants.
You are not making any sense!
- I know.
Goodnight said the bird of pray
before disappearing behind the shiny yellow curtain.
Under the curse
There is a loss of humour :
Childlike excitement is friction in memory
a tinnitus of love
upon your compressed exhaustion
It takes a persistence
the insistence of the stubborn
to transverse the yawn within
to make you a new spell
This could bring about your
day-to-day skills and willingness
Regain the hum
Observe the silliness and the tune of your make
Recognise the scope
and think a smile.
Written after reading 'When the world lost a smile' by Poetic T.
It does not matter what build these walls.
And it does not matter how to break them.
Do not offer help.
Ask me what would I give to see a silver lining?
The doors are closed from the inside.
And I have forgotten how to unlock them.
Oh, dear guest,
to see you standing out there is so gratifying.
These doors won’t open.
Outcomes of visiting a bad host!
Anything is art if you ask it to be
Though eternal it is when handled by thee
She will make the life you live much more
Than any other you have lived before
She brings you here as her guest
A place of heaven and endless rest
Where the world itself burns with desire
Yet not a trace of fiendish fire
A place the earth could not attain
That I will forget once fallen sane
Xenia stands for
Guest and stranger, why did we
Suiside upon instruction
By relation to another
And being bared upon
By your own misfiring soul
A shaky exit ;
Or lonely, with company
Approach The Pig Empty
With a mind and not a rattle
; a pressure of Taughts
in loving nothing
a pardon from suffering ?
a finite mime
Signed - a guest