The first look:
Smiles in a stretched-out loop
Pretentiously masked in the glorious fold
Dark at heart but moony to behold
Sinister looks in powdery faces
And beaming above a black façade
Extending the fellowship we crave to see
To make an *** of any that falls

The second look:
Project is snatched, hallowed-hand atwist,
Big Rogue speaks, all takes a nod,
and pay is squashed for truth in a pod
As topman cons with honey speech,
Lily-hood alone appraised
Brotherhood a-tipped for fakes:
Rewarding the lies behind the stakes

The third look:
Cheat-man’s pay: a pain-in-roll
Filthy wages to snatchy hands
Gullible mates are left snail-tracked.
Contractor’s vaults are now for the wolves
So rotten fund will find its base
Taking up wings, and it’s a ‘bye’.
Alas, the burnt tale of the greedy.

I thought of how fair you are,
And a hue to dab on you.
‘Red’ would do a tinge or two:
oily drips on apple skin.

Cubic glass that sprinkles rays
Mixed with brilliant sparkling smiles.
That you are, in white as sun
Only sieved of scourging warmth.

Afro-brown has joined the queue;
Melon-bulb that’s packaged soft.
Mummy’s nurse that props my head:
Food and rest in dermal bronze.

In the night, your colour glows;
Leave me not in colour blind.
Pledging scent that cuddles me,
Shadow not your penal self.

As you pecked my cheek to sleep
Half way through some lullaby,
My eyes caught the snitcher’s love:
Just too real in whitish-blue.

The land of plenty and more,
Due north of latitude big.
So brackish by the beach,
Where rivers refresh my core.

The land of teethful laughters,
Curing smiles, and tickling fingers;
moulded calves that help the gray,
Wherein salute points on to age.

The land of rich black mud;
Liquid rock….the milk of nations.
Many natives, one in love.
Land of songs and peaceful sleeps.

Now plundered by many looters,
Dented pride, and cutting greed.
Left by muted titled brothers
Carousing off in Dubai’s inn.

"Uniformed" cries of innocent girls,
Forest-snatched by prickly hands.
Fainted mothers at husbands’ feet:
Warriors-in-wait for boiling stones.

Tearful moans in hinterland;
Weeping mums for wasted land.
On still act the raging wolves;
Their endless zeal…“the feast of death”.

‘Taking lead by dibia’s beads’,
Shameless “bold” is proud to say.
Loot in hand, the cameras flicked:
‘Faith is now a fateful day’.

Arise oh brothers, up and sit!
Come in circle and seek the ‘settle’
Posterity cries that she’s bothered;
memories too  have been murdered.

Act now for justice’s sake.
Do not lie at judgement’s gaze.
Be humane for nation’s peace
And toe the path of heroes past.

His worth endured a date.
At the corner of wooden low
Sat He, decider of day.
Himself a sacrament
Upon a wedding feast.

Adjudged a woodman’s breed
Came down to celebrant’s call.
Acts unknown in tunics white,
He sat amidst the local stones;
Health and wealth within His bones.

“O dear! the wine is finished.
The convener mustn’t hear.
His heart would lose the merry
And the bride may bridge a breath”,
…So said His mum divine.

“My time above is kept,
Why pull a string so tight?
That angels now on heels  
To do my bidding so.
…o woman! though my mum”.

“Tip the pots to top,
Dip from stream at spot.
Taste the cup from some
And send to chief at top
to taste the drip from crock”.

“Aha! the cheat is caught
That kept the best till late.
For we now drunk with waste
Have laced our thirst with liqs.
So sad our craves in kicks”.

Now, chief with all the guests
Hail bride in love with groom:
‘Dance at last for all is good!’,
But knew not how it worked,
Save mum and Son divine.

He promised help and loved us so.
Therefore, in Eden was dropped the Son.
Twice a brief….the return of hope,
A shine once lost in garden fine.
That we ease Him in anew;
Erase the spell and make a sphere
That can never ever be smashed.

Now, the ‘Life’ is Eden’s plus.
For the humble folks that know
And repentant folds that knock,
…. golden is the brazen gate
That awaits their honoured gaze.
For twice the gain of life
When He rises yet at dawn.

Good men keep the light:
Stars in the darkened world,
Seen below the clouds
As the mighty shepherd peeps.
How ripe a time is it
for the trumpet’s rippling hit?
When the last is gone,
Then, surely it would be.

Good men keep the light
And doom's day pushed afar.
In presence and in speech,
Peaceful men can have their seats
And war is stopped at words.
Let then the leaves be green
While their stay may ever last
For ‘thy holy kingdom come’.

Good men keep the light.
Let earth enjoy their taste
While the salt endures.
Candle-stand upon the top,
Bringing hope upon the lost.
Dearest beings of the Master Up,
But when their souls are gone
Then, surely it would be.

Good men keep the light.
Let’s churn out more of them
That grace may linger still
Against the angel’s horn.
That day of doom and gloom
That siesmizes the heart,
May be bidden far today,
Till very far away.

I see people and then… ‘revelations!’
Things of them ‘out’ standing.
So also I have understood,
I am being understudied.
My life is now a thesis,
But I leave proofs of unspoken deeds
In secret places.
That the seekers of truth
And the trailers of lies
May search out for themselves
And be proven worthy.
While the game is sweated out,
Volumes are being written.
Life is but a game
Where true friends are revealed.