You asked me who I am

I am happy
I am sad

I am loved
I am hated

I am a friend
I am a foe

I am everything
I am nothing

Musings, poetry

Hard Man

I am a hard man to love
I am like the sun
I will burn you if you come close
But I will always brighten your days

I am a hard man to love
I am like the moon
Cold hearted and not always there
But I will be there in your darkest hour

I am a hard man to love
I am like the stars
I twinkle sometimes,
You may not see me but I am always there for you.

Musings, poetry

The Village Belle

My brother,
When you see me, mouth wide open with saliva drooling down my chin like a newborn
When you see me holding my chubby cheeks, as if my head is threatening to obey gravity
When you see me starring towards the hills, eyes empty and devoid of emotion
Do not think that my name has been mentioned by the village witch, the woman of the forest.

It is the village belle, Nyar Alego, who is stuck in my mind
My heart now dangerously beats to the smooth sway of her hips
When she goes to fetch water in the stream, flowers bloom on her path, I swear
The Jacaranda by our house bloomed for her, and rained purple on her way
The ground trembles when touched by her feet, I have seen it, brother

It is the softness of her dark African skin that I dream of
The firmness of her thighs and the fullness of her hips
The sun in her smile, the stars in her eyes and the sweetness of her lips
I no longer desire any other woman, brother,she has spoilt them for me
For now, I am a man who has seen colour, I do not desire to go back to black and white.

Photo credits; @fb Roberto Carlos Amaral


Gift From Above

When God stood on the bare hills of Alego
He marveled at his own creation
The Jacarandas that bloomed and rained beautiful purple
The lake that glimmered when kisses by the dry winds

He saw how hard man worked in the fields
Daring the sun that threathened to bake his skin
And he saw it good to reward him for his hardwork
He thus gifted mankind with you, beautiful Nyar Alego


Figures of speech

Has she given birth yet?
I was told she was pregnant with excitement.

What happened to the young jolly boy.
I was told he died of laughter.

Mama told me that time flies.
I kept wondering what kind of wings it has.

I got more confused when they told me that time is money.

She was really sad when dhe told me that the old man had kicked the bucket.

Maybe I’m just nuts…


There’s a Thing…

There’s a thing in my chest, that knocks every time I see your beautiful face

Theres a thing in my chest that runs every time I see your beautiful hearty smile

There’s a thing in my chest that claps every time I get lost in your brown eyes

There’s a drum in my chest and the only music it beats to is the sound of your angelic voice

There’s a drum in my chest that beats every moment your legs touch the ground

There’s a thing in my chest that gets excited when your name is mentioned

There’s a thing in my chest that dances when I think of you, beautiful one

There’s a thing in my chest, there’s a thing that only beats for you, only you my love

Photo credits; @Thinking Art


Somebody Call 911

She once had a black flawless skin, our resident slayqueen
Now she looks pale, like my grandmothers hut smeared with white orche
She bleached her skin just to look like a white woman
She has shaved her eyebrows and shifted its geographical location
She has painted them high up near her hairline, now she looks dubious all the time
She paints her eyelids black and sometimes purple, making her look like a Nigerian witch
Her breasts defy gravity, they’re filled with silicone implants, they look big for her body and too upright for a woman her age
Her silicone filled backside too, that earns the envy of every teenage girl and turns the head of every man
She dons the tail of a horse on her head, long ones that reach her backside
She shoves her smelly imported hairs on our faces
She has acquired the accent of a western woman too, she returns back to her local dialect only when drunk
Somebody call 911 and report a white woman impostor