Caged Words

16/07/2022

I'll always apologize if I happen to step on your beliefs,
This is why I'll prefer the noise that the silence within me makes.
My restless days of chasing after the wind will never be distracted by setting my eyes off my tongue, but I'll never cease to hope and pray to bump into a fellow mutant of my specie.
For they will know even without uttering a word I'd still have felt it.
So I'll try to pack my words for recycling if at all the need be and then;
I'll enter gates like wind, haunt lives like a ghost that need no key,
Like death that comes without a knock
Pop like a season that don't need your opinion.
There then I'll live in noise and fuss
But I choose to smile, turn and walk away
For I see no meaning to reply
They'll say " I love you"
That too won't make me stupid.

11/07/2020

# THOUGHTS_IN_MY_HEAD

What if you're just destined to get hurt, to be stuck in a point where you never want to be, when your words aren't enough, when your actions have no effect, when all the fibers of your existence scream just to be heard and yet, only the most deafening silence returns the echoes of your screams? Is there something beyond words and action?
Flowers feed on earth and ashes,
and mostly murky water --
yet they are holy, beautiful, with a nice fragrance their colours delight both eyes and hearts.
While man, before whom angels once bowed down,
looks on flowers, drinks water purer than tears,
and crunches deep red apples --
yet turns ugly -- why?

13/04/2020

LONELY DAYS
Tell me you don't feel lonely ?
Surely you are getting lonely.
So am I feeling lonely
since I have you only.

I tried remembering what I saw in your eye
But they don't seem so bright
Just like that of the first night
When I promised for you will I die.

I can recall the last summer
When you made me lie to the other
Thinking you will be a perfect lover
But you turn out to be a heart burner.

Look into my eyes dearest of all lover
And tell me it's not over ,
Because I can't let it go
Even if you aren't gonna keep it close.

13/04/2020

ISOLATION
Man alone;
'This then, if ever, he talks with God,
Viewing himself as a single clod
In this soil of life where the souls are grown.

'Then he questions the why and where,
The start and end of his years and days,
And what is blame and what is praise,
And what is ugly and what is fair,
What is common and what is rare.

When a man has drawn from the busy throng,To the sweet retreat of the silent hours,
Low voices whisper
Silent yelling of higher powers like a viper
He catches the strain of some faroff song,
And the veil fades out of his face
His eyes can see,
It only rages in the hours of remembrance.

He ain't the man he is in the hours of hot strife
And the greed and grind of a selfish life, But the soul of the man he is to be.

He feels the throbbing of life divine,
And catches a glimpse of the greater plan;
He questions the purpose and work of man.

In the hours of silence his mind grows fine;
He seeks to learn what is kept unknown;
He turns from self and its garb of clay
And dwells on the soul and the higher way.

When a man's alone
Strange thoughts reign
And he aims for a higher plan....

19/03/2020

20/08/2019

FOR MY LOVER,
RETURNING TO HER LOVER
He is all there.
He was melted carefully down for you
and cast up from your childhood,
cast up from your one hundred favorite aggies.
He has always been there, my darling.
He is, in fact, exquisite.
Fireworks in the dull middle of February
and as real as a cast-iron pot.
Let's face it, I have been momentary.
A luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor.
My muscles standing like a tower
My shoulders hanging up

He is more than that. He is your have to have,
has grown you your practical your tropical growth.
This is not an experiment. He is all harmony.
He sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy,
has placed wild flowers at the window at breakfast,

I give you back your heart.
I give you permission —
for the fuse inside him, throbbing
angrily in the dirt, for the dog in him
and the burying of his wound —
for the burying of his red wound alive —
for the pale flickering flare under his ribs,
for the drunken sailor who waits in his left pulse,
for the garter belt, for the call —
the curious call
when you will burrow in arms and chest

and answer the call, the curious call.
He is so naked and singular.
He is the sum of yourself and your dream.
Climb him like a monument, step after step.
He is solid.
As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.‎‎‎

18/06/2019

Something new coming up. "QUIET MOMENTS" is the title.

03/12/2018

CRUSH

I've fought and lost.
We owned different weapons like guns loaded with different bullets.
Or swords with mine made of a suicidal blades.

I was the one who made beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant poises
And cups of flowers and a kirtle embroidered with leaves of myrtle.

Really hate saying sorry, is there any other way?
I'ma hit it to the core anyway.
I never wanna make you stop trying and meet serendipity maybe some day,
Or make u believe there's nothing overwhelming in trying to get yourself on board in the late hours of the day.
Haven't I made it obvious girl
That I'm clung onto something deadly now?
Helping you jump off the boat to get yourself free from the obvious storm ahead is all the love I have.
I'm a mutant that chooses to meander away from love that promises to live always but disagrees with it's life span to let itself fade, wither, crack and quits breath.
Haven't I made it obvious that I'ma help you prefer life?
Don't say sorry little princess,
I pray for the best for the ones that starts up a love war with me
But I'ma prefer fleeing the battle ground, I'll murder you.
We won't last baby something tells me, we won't
I'ma make it known no undercover
My intuition yells silently.
We won't last baby
So turn your back on me and point your gun loaded with rose bullets against one who prays for it.
Quit being a gambler on me I'll always turn the tables black for innocent girls.

My sad love letter.

23/09/2018

Now I know one thing I'm a king. I just walked into a ditch. I'm sorry I gotta go back I was in the dark.
I was too blind too see I got snared in the race.
Look lady my hands and body no longer tremble because of your touch.
Look into my eyes you won't see yourself no more go back to your husband.
I'm not going to the club, it's not in the new book.
Look brother, I no longer tremble when I haven't sniffed the thing.
I have to strive for my success and not to wait for what the stranger will purchase.
I don't need to insult because I was not destined to hurt. It's now of more glory in overcoming it.
I was at the base because I was carrying a curse.
I had embarked on a journey when you caught me, covered me with a cloth laced with drugs. I passed out but now I've woken up I'm out.
I'm not ashamed to walk with holy book.
I have a new look.
I'm not dying, I'm living.
I'm not fearing, I'm trusting. I'm not scattered I'm gathering myself.
I'm not discarded, I'm needed.
I became somebody without a message, but now I'm a messenger.
I'm not weak, I'm strong and complete.
I'm not wrapped in negative anymore, I'm not afraid to experience something new.
I know I'm staggering but I'm but it's fine I'm paying my dues.
I was a slave to sin but now,
I'm brave enough to crack the grave.
I know you think I'm at fault but trust me I'm not.

17/08/2018

WOMANIZER
I have a woman I love,
She’s gentler than a dove,
I’ve never known such love
Yet I am jealous of my love.
Trapped,

I can’t keep from others’ wives,
I don’t fear to be tricked;
I keep company with divas
I can’t take my eyes off pretty girls;
I have broken much virginity,
Given myself to prostitutes;
The other day I saw
Sister Gertrude, the nun,
She got off her church regalia—
I satisfy all my mania.

My mind dwells on their beauty
I’ve lost my one desire,
Passion inside me is like fire;

My love’s turned against me
Listens to my sweet words no more,
She already knows what I am
That I am—I am—a womanizer

24/10/2017

INDEPENDENCE
It's the day of independence to some people yet nothing to us who still reside under influence
We called it independence but all our activities took place under this cage.
We fi**ed and noded our heads affirming it's a curse.
Do we just term ourselves a 'chosen generation'?
This is an assertion hard for me to ascertain; Both negative and positive answers might be wrong.
It's spoken everywhere so I node to agree, we are hearers not doers so I shake my head to disagree.
But why not if we crave to be free and call it independence?
If we long to be His resemblance, why not through repentance
We have updated a worshiping way when no update has been released.
When through grace n mercy we wake up with a new chance.
Real freedom claims no dependence, real independence repentance.
Independence? Shame to one who can't bow,
One who thinks it's to no avail
One who assumes they'll get there on their own as they travail
We are not independent we're in bo***ge, working to fail
Being led to hell.
There's more to unveil.
Let Facebook tell you I posted for the first time in a while,
but trust this ain't my first thought in a while.