#witty
...but one day is for the owner;
what a good ol' proverb.
And its words are so true
because no matter how long a lie goes
it'd take but only a moment for the
truth to catch up.
But what about your things the thief stole
during his "everyday" period?
The feeling of loss you felt
when he carted away your treasure chest.
Would the "one day" which is yours
as the owner, be enough
to recompense
your loss?
My advice? Safeguard your treasures;
protect your jewels such that not every-
day will be the thief's - maybe
he might still get a day or two (credit
of his skills).
And when that day which is yours -
the owner's - come;
Hehehehehe! I leave you to your discretion.
Jan 26
Jan 26, 2026 at 6:49 AM UTC
Jeff, my òyìnbó friend approached me
and spoke so fervently
about their childhood myths.
About their Santa Claus, their Tooth Fairy,
their Easter Bunny,
and the different ghosts during halloweens.
And then he asked me
if we too had these.
I looked at him and just laughed.
Santa Claus? Did he mean Bòdá Sholá
in the next street who plays Father Christmas?
And what did he mean by Easter Bunny?
Perhaps he meant the òkété in my tummy
that I had last night as a meal.
Also, Tooth Fairy? Was it because he
saw that kid yesterday throwing his
loose tooth with some pebbles on the roof
that he thought we had one too?
Moreover, what different ghosts during halloweens?
Maybe he meant the òjùjú kalabas
that our elders scare us with.
Jan 5
Jan 5, 2026 at 6:37 AM UTC
Most have a monotonous mountain of molasses,
And, I hear they’re returning in masses.
Always viscous and vicious to prevent one’s escape.
We’re all just pawns in their grand game.
To bind us, tantalize us, and break us repeatedly.
Lie, bribe, and shatter our fleeting sense of security.
To lull us into a slumber meant for us to lose our dreams,
And then wake up and wonder what we’re meant to be.
It comes in many forms, and it’s called by many names,
All of them referring to the same sordid pile of shame.
Try as we might to escape unscathed,
Only to be bound and beaten until nothing but a husk remains.
The molasses surrounds us, pummeling us into the ground.
As we cry for help, but there’s no one around.
For they’re dealing with their own malicious mount,
Gagging us with worries to drown out every sound.
We struggle, although muffled, we try to overcome,
But even if we win, the battle isn’t won.
When we defeat a mountain, another swiftly takes its place.
This new one could be worse, as it grabs you in a devouring embrace.
You’ll overcome it; it’s a given, as many have before you.
But these battles, rest assured, will take your will to see them through.
These monotonous mountains are tenacious and cruel,
The molasses, so viscous, an evil witch’s brew.
Don’t think it’s honey, it isn’t nearly as sweet,
And don’t have the audacity to accept defeat.
It won’t be easy, after all, it is a war,
But one you can win with your shield and sword.
So, when you see a monotonous mountain of molasses,
Take solace, knowing full well you have the tools to surpass it!
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 3:55 PM UTC
I’m a homicidal poet,
who breathes coffee like oxygen,
haunts digital wastelands—
until my fingertips bleed pixels
and my pulse hums in binary.
I bury bodies in blank verse,
resurrect them with rhyme.
Sleep for a century.
Repeat.
But I swear—
I’m fine.
Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 10:54 AM UTC
There is a robot in my pocket,
it's smart enough to design rockets,
but just gives the forecast,
and knows all about my past,
it even works with no socket.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 11:07 PM UTC
discard the clothes that never fit you
easier said than done
mind you
beware this is the land of
opinion fares
what you know
is not you
would happily trade
this skin for you
extra large clothes
to skin tight
low rise
high boots type
glasses to lens
plain cuppa to
starbucks rendezvous
broadway nights
the highlight
dawn to my pride
pawn of lies
presumptions
impetuous actions
a fine line
what should i discard?
you ask
two faced
double edged sword
sometimes referred
human companion
friends
acquaintances
negative thoughts
who back stab you
cruel summers
never go out of style
hoax of believers
you belong together
lover to anti-hero
bad blood
i sigh
can you come again?
discards the pieces
which have fallen apart
don’t sow thorns
you bleed
burn the bridges
you built
clothes never naught fit
you make them
seem fit
live as you
not your alter
ego *****
Dec 30, 2024
Dec 30, 2024 at 1:20 AM UTC
i'm innocent!
no virtue spent
on fake affection from a gent
and i won't laugh
at stupid jokes
for vain attention from a bloke
you couldn't pay
for me to lie
for cheap comfort from a guy
but every now
and then, again
my path is crossed by finer men
and if i find
for me to mind
a soul to which my soul can bind
then bound to him
my heart will be,
with my virtue, for him for free
i'll love him so
but here's the thing
it will still cost a wedding ring!
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 3:03 PM UTC
Language is a gably thing,
One can gister words as they go;
Cacophony of sounds we set meanings with,
Leaving me flummoxed every time I unwreathe.
Sesquipedalian, dollipling, mollycoddle
Do these quixotic words truly exist?
Wattucturic, rigmarole, dorizating
Naf, won’t tell you which is which.
Maybe words do not aim to bamboozle,
But some are too choorlish to have been born;
Reminds me of how whimsical humanity is,
Passing on wanches that spell like these.
Oct 8, 2024
Oct 8, 2024 at 6:54 AM UTC
Witty at word play
Some might say
Some tho may not know
What lies between the lines
Something clever tends to hide
When asked
"Did you make it by nine?"
My response
" I made it right on time"
May 31, 2021
May 31, 2021 at 3:20 AM UTC
another day, another lotion,
sighed, “much rather be making potions.”
*tedium, boredom, boil and bubble,
add a spice, then add it double,
stir it well and let it settle,
in a kettle,
made of metal.*
what's your fancy, what's your trouble?
basin clogged with dwarven stubble?
make one balm,
you've made them all!
concoct a cream, a cream?—a cream!
one more grog burn,
swear I'll scream!
*tedium, boredom, boil and bubble,
add a spice, then add it double,
stir it well and let it settle,
in a kettle,
made of metal.*
give me dragons, give me daggers,
give me jewels with emerald feathers!
give me—“what?
what's this, right now?
of course I know exactly how!”
roots to find, true essence to distill,
adventure?
no, but pays the bills.
Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 5:47 PM UTC
i'll gulp all my sorrows
i'll sleep all my worries
i'll wipe all my tears
And wear that fake smile on.
oh! hey, guess what!
I got the "society's" membership now!
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 3:38 AM UTC
Wisdom is better than rubies
Its harvest is better than gold
I’ll obtain and use this wisdom
Like the greatest people of old
Wisdom is deep and eternal
And guides me in meaningful ways
Its sense and witty inventions
Add wealth to my life and my days
Wisdom says, “Hearken unto me
And riches and honor will flow
Follow my ways purposefully
And your riches will surely grow”
Wisdom will fill me with treasure
Rejoicing in daily delight
Bringing me love and contentment
I’ll keep wisdom first in my sight
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 7:50 PM UTC
lullabies are counterproductive
do not bother to sing
for i will wake up,
and stay up-
to hear you finish the entire thing
Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 12:27 AM UTC
i saw the stars in your eyes
...as in red stars
the supergiants on the brink of death
you should probably go see a doctor
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:43 PM UTC
What do you mean they are also prophets?
Far below, on the beach, were his friends
Half-naked bums
Partying in the sun
There were atheists
There were *** maniacs
The fat old Bumbo was a crazy bartender
I thought I was the only One. The Chosen One
I never knew they came in packs
All of them?
Even Bumbo is a prophet?
You mean to say you make me climb this eyrie-high
To tell I'm just one of them?
I'd rather not be a prophet
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 10:03 AM UTC
- Little shepherd, little shepherd,
Where's your flock, where's your herd?
Have you lost them in the fog?
Where's, shepherd, your watchful dog?
- Up there far, faaar away,
On that lane where horses neigh.
Keep on walking a little more,
Take no notice of a bear's roar.
Do not rush now, take it slow,
Before you reach the meadow.
You will see a stocky dog,
That guards my grazing flock.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
And then he asked,
"What are you looking for?"
And I said,
"I'm looking for someone
who can give me thrills,
the roller-coaster adventure kind of feeling.
I'm looking for someone
who is romantic but not boring;
witty but not loud;
smart but not arrogant.
Someone who is everything you are
BUT NOT YOU."
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
In this pretty,
But little city
People won't praise you for being witty.
If I have a chance
To experience romance,
I know I've changed
For fate has prearranged.
Walking down this lane
Helps me realize I forgot the pain.
Of my past
So it passes me so fast
Look back down that alley
I know I want you to be my finale
This is to my unknown lover.
Will you discover
Me this summer?
In this pretty,
But little city
Where people won't praise us for being witty.
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
Is a genie blue?
such myths are unclear.
Will a genie grant your wishes?
ridiculous or pure.
In a bottled prison,
will a genie stay?
lounging in cramped conditions
will a genie grey?
Be mindful what is wished
watch each word that is missed
Genies tend to twist a promise.
magic fogs ellipse
Dizzy are these questions
certain I must be,
before I set to seek
a genie just for me.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC
Bubbles bubble boiling brew
bumblebees and bullies too
busted bridle, bridges burn
buggie babies bob and burp
brush and beast brawl and boast
badly bruised burnt like toast
buttered bread, blueberry blue
better biscuits bake a new
boarder barriers bend and break
bested by a bigger quake
bald barbarians blunder business
bark and berate the only witness
bitter battle burns the brain
blurting out this blissful game
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 4:37 PM UTC