She is blue ,
The brilliant type of blue
So that she glitters e ’en in the
gloom .
So sweet is the song that she hums
She is the blue bird on the purple
post

She is pretty and she knows
Purr , purr she goes
As though she wants to fly
Preen and preen oil to her feathers
she apply
She is the blue bird on the tall
purple post

She leads a life so modest
As though ignorant she is the
prettiest
She lives to the dictates of nature
So that humans love and envy her
culture
She is the blue bird on the purple
post

Remain hither so I can watch
No go thither to our thatch
And I will watch and forget to go to
sleep
But away you fly and into the
clouds you sweep
She is the pretty blue bird on the
tall purple post .

Why should I recite a poem?
When poems do not make the point
Why should I sing a lullaby?
When you cannot make gold of columbite
Please pardon these stream of senseless sentences

   Why should I wear the baby a bib?
When there is no food, not a bit
Why should I plant and not water rose?
And yet anticipate it grows
Trust me prayers pay side by side practice

   Why should I tell tales of times untold?
When time –the teller- never told
Why should I curse, condemn and crucify the crown?
When the crown is another’s clown
Please forgive me for my rhymes are full of follies

   Haven’t these ills been told by many?
Yet those a-thrones do not give a penny?
Havent these been written in poetry plays?
Played on the crown who laughs and pays
Ah, the human heart is hardened

   Will we ever change this attitude?
And put an end to this servitude
Would that not put an end to this penurious life?
And make men once again well-wife
Once was life, now it is just strife

   I wish we will live another once.

Tap , tap, tap and tap
Is all to hear , as my feet and the
floor clap .
Round , round, round and round
As we whirl in the music' s
rhythmic sound .

Play , play , play , please play
Those sweet songs and drive my
head hay,
As our souls entangle in the
ecstasy .
Oh , what sweet journey into
fantasy .
Let ' s dance again ,
My only repeller of sadness and
pain .

Let ' s dance again , but this time
slowly .
Hold me close and hug me tightly
So i can smell that sweet scent of
jasmine
And listen to the thumping of your
heart and mine.
Let ' s dance dear lovely angel
Till we fall asleep with a song of
handel' s .

Barking orders from behind a
shiny mahogany table
' Bring me my . . . . . .
Where is Mr. . . . . . .
You **** fool , how many times
will i have to tell you. . . . . '
Spinning left and swinging right in
a fluffy comfortable white chair-
Let ' s not talk about the shiny cloths
he wears-
While his people wreath in abject
poverty
I call it white - washed kind of
slavery
Their faces say it all
But he is always cold and calm
His Italian shoes keeping him high
and fine
His words meant life or strife
Pain or gain
Wage or cage
To an extreme , sometimes even
death
A fitting representation of fear and
dread
To him laughter is reproach
And painful groans applauds
So that all that brought joy was
destroyed
And the painful restored
All in the ploy to keep us confined
To a ' ran ka ya dade ' kind of songs
But in all his plots this is where he
flawed
He left the pet hungry for too long
So that the once tamed sweet thing
began to growl
Instead of the sweet songs she use
to hum
Until the growl grew into a roar
No one is meant to have that power
No one is meant to have that power
No one is meant to have that power
So the hour came for power to
change hands
And the exchanged brought it
change
All the people' s pains began to
wear
And their fears were no longer
there
Even the sun ' s smile grew wider
And our mothers' sweet songs got
louder
Now instead of barking orders
opinions are sort
Instead of " i want it all"
It is "let us all have it"
And no longer a one man ' s calls
I remember this silly story once
told
A couple of men went to a salon
Ordered equal amounts of the same
***
Drank down and called out for
more
They all drank equal ration
Same in proportion, equal in all
dimensions
Until it was time to return home
Then this reality dawned
One was too drunk to walk on his
own
So that the other had to carry him
home
Such is the case with power
Allow two people equal amounts of
its shower
And certainly one will be more
drunk than the other
Becoming a magnet that either
attracts or repels
From all this story , this is what i
hoped to tell
This myopia i hope to correct and
this notion dispel
That all men are wired for power
Power is neither a cap for all heads
Nor one for all men
No wonder some act dump then
It is because they don ' t belong
there
For a man to fittingly man this seat
The man must be one fit for it
Oh , and by man , i mean women too
We must then be true as we choose
But sadly our prejudiced and
biased minds
Makes us compromise
And structural demise ? that is
certain
No more self- deceiving lies .
Setting the wrong man to rule is
like setting the sun against the
moon
Cos soon there won ' t be a sun nor a
moon
All there will be is just gloom
So shake off the blindfolds
And loosen the strong holds
Of ethnic chains
Tribal veils
And religious scales
Which are all pluses to our pain
There is no more room for miss fits
Power is a cap only for those it fits

.....slavery comes in different forms
And we give it different names
There was
The slavery slaves
But now we have;
Computer slaves;
Mental slaves;
Economic slaves;
Fashion slaves;
*** slaves;
Addiction slaves;,
This slaves and that slaves....

....the way she walks and the way she talks
She is the fairest of folklores
She drains me of words
And drowns me in thoughts
She is the reason I smile
Even amidst a milli reasons to cry;
The magic mat on which I fly
Deep into the fluffy clouds of fantasy
Where only she and I will be,
Watching our lives unfold like a golden scroll
Living every day as it comes......

Tornado of thoughts
Whirling with this troubled clouds.
How did we get here?
The answer? Who cares?
The trampled remember the past
The trampler, in the present bask.

Humanity, the trending fraud.
Ages ago, who would've thought
Man is reduced to fear
Death lurks everywhere
Though that is the least of them all
Other accompanying devils deal their far worst blows.

Is it still a man's (human's) world?
My boomeranging thought.
If it still is
Justify this.
How come there are more guns
Than there are humans?
More killings than births?
More wars than peace-advancement seminars?

If truth has only one perspection
By now, we should be standing on the same vantage point

The world ie now no more than a chess board
We are; the chess pawns;
Bishops and knights;
With queens and kings,
At the summit of this prism

Is this what humanity was designed to become?
I bet, we are just a compromised generation.