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Wednesday, 31 March 2010

My bRoKeN Brolly

 Rain drop, drip, drape..
Drapes, drops, drips

And then I'm drenched.. 
What to do, with my broken brolly..

Big, small, old of English,..
Flowery oriental, in looks of China ..
Beauty in colours, of Mary Poppins..
Then sometimes; sometimes in black..

Just in black..
With oak, or ivory, handles hold..
As this then becomes,  my walking stick..
My walking stick; old English, gentleman's brolly..

My walking stick
My walking stick  
My walking stick

What to do, with my broken brolly..
With hooks all off, and springs all sprung

On crooked lines, on narrow roads
In walks I take, I make,  for all to see..

In winds it goes, tumbling inside out..
With loosened spikes sharp, to be avoided..
On sliver spokes, dashed rushed pointing all out..
To sea of people, I shout “health and safety”..

What to do, with my broken brolly..
While all along, in the old Queen’s England..
Rain drop, drip, drape, drapes, drops, drips

And then I'm drenched, and then I am drenched ..

I stamp in puddles, to dance my brolly dance  

#I sing in the rain, #I am singing in the rain
And wiggle it hold, on dangling handling
Along the way, #I sing in the rain

In good old deary, rainy England..
I sing in the rain, with my broken brolly
On what to do, with my broken brolly..
Dolly, lolly, polly, brolly brolly, broken brolly

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Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Note To Self

Note to self, one of these days..
I will have to write you down..
And for the repeat question..
I ask to be reminded again..

Note to self, one of these days..
I will have to make a note..
Maybe a little twist in questions..
Will help lessen the frustration..

Notes to be jotted down..
One of these days, I did have to..
You never listen, You never listen..
That is your problem,..
“Men never listen”..

Note to self, one of these days..
I will have to write you down..
Rather it be a case of attention..
“or lack of it”..
Than it is a memory loss..

Note to self, notes on the fridge ..
Finally I got round to writing you down..
Or did I?..
Note to self ,
check the fridge door
Just to make sure..

Monday, 29 March 2010

Doomed Youth

No crowd of gathered hyenas..
In savannah fields..
Around darkened alley ways..

Bravado is just a foreign word..
Forget about losing face..
Those thoughts are long gone..

Illusions of assets owned..
"We own these streets"..
Made clear in day light..
Like sea sand, slippering freely ..
Through fist of fingers..

Pact signed with false friendship..
"We stand here, we die here"..
Replaced by empty seats across..
Cold metal tables..

While we sit in bird’s cage..
A few girlfriends visited..
A few friends visited..
That was just in the early days..

Sunday, 28 March 2010

Sun Light On Sunday

Earth has nothing to show..
more fair..

Autumn rains, 
and shades, leaves in brown

Winter grips on souls
in passing..
Saturday held hands with
spring's rain..

But Sunday!..
Sunday came with brightness adored..
In hearts, in minds, in souls..
In looks and smiles..

Sunday came with the sun's rays..

And earth had nothing..
To show more fair..

Earth had nothing to show more fair 

Saturday, 27 March 2010

Creepy Crawly On My Wall


On the wall..
Slowly crawling..
Down my wall..
Staring and looking down at me ..

Creepy crawly crawling down..

Down down, in ghostly steps..

Creepy crawly lifts it's head up..
Up, up and nods..

Creepy crawly
Says to me..

Paw, paw !..

On your case, I am today!!..

A' on your wall 

I am crawling down,

Down, down whoo ow..
Creepy crawly, getting closer
And under my bed sheet,

 I go on shiver..

When I looked and looked again
Turned out, creepy crawly
Was just a flicker

Flickering on my lamp's 

Shade of shadow
Shadowing down on my wall

Not funny you know..
Not funny at all I say!!..
Creepy crawly on my wall..

Friday, 26 March 2010

The Old Comedy Of Fought

In Bristol, on Gloucester road..
Further down, downwards..
Coming from the city centre,..
Then upwards it would be..

Don't go past the Archies..
For by then you've gone too far..
Not to worry, a quick turn..
Puts lights house, in sight for directions..

Past the girls school..
The Polish church..
The swanky new buildings..
Where once stood a glass building..

Not sure what it was for 
Made for, stood for, before..
Car showroom or something, before..

In character

But the last I saw of it..
Was in it, some art work...
In it's window.. 

Clearly for the streets

Mumbling words in telling..
By it self, it seemed to say..
With body language in knowing..
That its days are short and numbered..

Well it came to pass  
Short and numbered..
As the demolition men moved in 
Then it was no more

Just past there is the battle ground..
At old Jester's spot of old comedy club..
In harmony, in togetherness of humour..
In temperaments emotions of subtitle..

Discontent seen in sign language 
A swear word rains “parental advice”..
The establishment shall bring it forces...
Here-forth, henceforth on this day forthwith..

Hereby to uproot and de-throne 

The William Wallis of this time..
Chained in padlocks, in for the defence..
In for a penny, in for a pound..

Knights on horse back..
And on this day the crowd gathered..
Chants of Spartan, sporadic , eruption..
More came out of the woodwork after..

The passion was strong..
The battle half fought..
Bows and arrows against gun powder..
The establishment on a winning roll..

And old Monte-pillar of graffiti art..
Of which Bansky stood..
In high and mighty patronage..
Was to be no more;..

Tesco sat in the corner..
Of old Jester club, in comedy...

And I vowed never ever to shop there
In protest to what we lost 
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Thursday, 25 March 2010

I Lost One

When finally..
I set sail on flight's path..
The winds beneath my wings..
My pain of old one-two..
Of today's rain on me feathers..

Sting will be nothing more than..
The memory a mother has of labor..
Between the last big breath..
And last big push,..
Come on! one more push..

To the aftermath of now...
And now, in the now, now of fortunes..
In some ways, I miss the struggle..

Back then, there was a cause to fight..
Respect given, not for the wealth in riches..
Rather in zeal, passion, yea in vim..

I gained one, won one, ...
But seriously, I lost one..
The last one..

Knowing now..
Before, the had I known..

This is, the just in time, ..
Saved by the last bell;..
I saved the last one,..
Just in time..

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

Time Out!!

This has been one of worry..
This has been of  desperate despair..
This has been wrapped ..
In cottons of frustration..

Awaiting fortunes 
To open it's door;..
Be opened already!..

And for each day..
Time journeyed past..
So fast, well fast, past..
Time flies fast!!..

On this day, time out, I say!..
The sun is out on daylight breeze ..
The rabbit runs across, trendy trimmed up grass..
The birds makes nests, with twigs and weed, in trees..
The squirrel hunts nuts, in nutshells all day..

And I pick a beautiful Orkids..
To give to a beautiful lady..
And we sit on St. Andrews park ..
Chit chatting all day with friends..
On this day, time out I say..

To make way, for sightful eyes..
The sun is out in daylight sky..
And leisure in pleasure..
Is mine to enjoy..
On this day, time out I say!!..

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

My Chinese Cookie

I am gliding..
Earth awaits my faith..
With a coin tossed in air..

Gravity of us, coin and I ..
That is..as with gravity drop..
Of identically weighted twins..

The drop reveals what..
The Chinese cookie..
Holds in secrets..
I await in suspense..

I hope I don't burnout, this day..
Before my time I pray
I pray Sahara's misfortunes..
Does not besiege my fortune..
In my vulnerability..

And I hold tight on dreams..
For good fortunes..
To be of my cookie..
Hoping for the better best..
I cooked these cookies me self..

Monday, 22 March 2010

For The Support

Akpe na Enyonam..
If I say, I appreciate your support..
It is nothing short of what words 

I cannot find to truly describe the vividness..

In capacity, in confidence, in say..

Of what weights of wings..
You carry me with..
Mine is well "Enyonam"..
Yes mine is well in deed  

For when I look back ..
To t' tree that sprung me in branches..
You are my STRONGEST life line 

Of believe, in roots that feeds me 

With confidence of support...
"Enyonam" and I know mine is well..
Yes mine is well, mine is well 

Enyonam mine is well indeed 

When all the church bells..
Have gone silence in tune 
Yours has rang so loud 

A thousand faint ones' were made obsolete.. 

Serge with such assurance..
Resounding to burgeon in me..
The resuscitation's beliefs "Enyonam"..
To carry on camping, as mine is well..

And when outsiders sing with delight..
Saying yours is with adoration 

" Enyonam" I know it is true..

Yes this is true, as my is well 

For from where charity begins,..
I hear the same melodies sang to me..
With passion so strong  ..
That acknowledges long before others 

To a Big sister treasured.."Enyonam"
For the love you give freely..
For t' pearl in your heart's warmth treasured..

As abundance of hope you give  

Thank you “Akpe nee” ..
And I know mine is well...
You are appreciated “Akpe na wo”...

For mine is well "Enyonam" 

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Sunday, 21 March 2010

My Heart Skips A Beat

My heart skips a beat..
Into t' realms of another,..
My body feels a chill,..
Of excitements joy,..

Single drops of sweat..
In drops of happy tears...
Slowly sending passages..
Through my spinal cord..
Felt sensation I feel..
Sending awaking calls..
To my senuous

To passion a taxation..
To rise to this occasion..
My heart skips a beat..
With wings of butterflies..
To cupid's arrows..
Into t' realms of another..

Saturday, 20 March 2010

Why bleed on Jos

Yee men of the North..
Yee men of the South...
Which of you, stood firm on my toe?..

An answer demanded..
A libation to be poured..
I will take a child from ..
Capulet or Montague..
A revenge for my loss..

When was it when we were brothers?..
I ask of you, you who say lets shed blood in vain..
When we are brothers, of the same roots of ancestry..

This land was my passage to earth..
Told wonderful stories of it's beauty..
Dreams of journeyed self discovery..
There awaited in list before I die ..

Now I see the Muslin conquest..
And of the 1st, 2nd ; 3rd Crusade..
Of Saladin and the Kings of Europe..
Fought again in Jerusalem of Jos in Nigeria...
In a blink, bleak of faiths..
Of dia faith, was all there was..
And the King's men of governors..

Who seats in Senates..
Knew not How to resolve..
Humty dumpty's destitution..

I will burn your God's Church..
I will burn your Allah's Mosque..
Where you seek your last refuge ..

When was it when we were brothers?..
The same Ancestry you say?..
Which of it, is there to be?..

Be it of religion or of culture?..
Which of it, is there to be seen?..
For now the red mist surround ..
Turns with sight men blind..

And the Heaven's God and Allah..
And of ancestry ..
Seat and wonder why..
Blood is shed on fuss..

And the Saladins and Kings of Jos..
Say we do it for our faith and ancestry..
Shedding more blood in vain..

Friday, 19 March 2010

Sprinkling Colours Into Hearts

If I was to grow wings..
I will fly up, high into the heavens..
Paint a Picasso in the sky,...

Wash my brush off colours..
And sprinkle freely from it..
Onto the hearts of earth,..
Putting more colours in days..

Self portrait;..
And to have been born..
Into absolute beggary..
Will I be the same person..
I am in presence ...

If I had no legs to foot path..
Nor eyes, to see past..
No nose to smell scent..
Nor ears to hear song..

Will I still have been known..

By half the people I know today..
And find my way to loves den..

I now realize, I am with wings..
And this is my Picasso onto skies..
Sprinkling colours freely off my brush...

Into this here, earth’s hearts..

This is my Piscasso to you
With warm, warmth attached 

This is my Picasso to the world 
Painted with poetry of words 
Metaphor of reasoning, as my Picasso to you

Thursday, 18 March 2010

My Shortfalls

My shortfalls,
Battling with principals..
Setting fire to wet paper,
Wet flammables ..

And  I am having to say 
Am sorry to love

How do I always, manage to do that..
To bring winter to summer's days ..
Apologies to the faithful..
When birds fly..
They know not where their faults..
Free falls drops..

And on Church days,..
 I hope my sins, 
"Bless me Father for I have;"
Are nothing more, no more
Than just stupidity..

Rather than a character flaw..
And stupidity, my stupidity..
Is just a momentarily glitch..
On my state of mind..

Intoxicated by the seduction..
Of wanting, not needing..
Found wanting in blurps in blips

Still, I lay out my penance..
For the offended offence..
My first steps climb to Everest..
Knowing under microscope..
No skin looks smooth...

And flawless, sinless,
Shameless, goodness beauty..
Is just what the naked eyes sees..
With assumptions..
Of what is perceived to be known..
And principals are without test..

My shortfalls ..
Battling with principals..
Apologies to you, 
For the offence offended
It is always with my shortfalls..

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!!

Be in green,..
Be caught without green..
Be pinched all day ..

Green green little men,..
Leprechauns with pots of gold..
Three wishes on offer to have;..

Green green huts to be worn ..
Red beard or white beard..
Juggy glasses with green beers..
Guinness as exception to t' rules of green..

Smash jugs to break green beers..
Shamrock for symbols..

Symbols as symbols, celebration as symbols 

Be in green,..
Be caught without green..
Be pinched all day ..

On this day, Irish to become..
A reason for celebrations; ..
In Irish step dance, river dance 

We  dance..
Break glasses, m
ake merry
And shamrock is held for symbols..

Be in green as green 

St. Patrick the shepherd..
Flocks of Irish  all in green ..

Shamrock, beers
And Leprechauns..in trinity

All in symbols celebrated in Irish

Be in green
Be caught without green..
Be pinched all day..

Happy St. Patrick's day !!

Daffodils in Colors

Letting go, to grow wings..
To fly, these fields of loves grace,..
Spring is late;..

Lighting strike, sends sparkles..
Into the bosoms of hearts,..
Warmth restored, in blissful bliss..
Spring is late;..

But daffodils shoot colors..
Bright in yellows and whites..
Brewing in hearts..
Is an awaiting ecstasy..
In summer’s corridors,...
Spring is late!..

What joy, is to be had..
In T shirts and flip flops..
On summery sunny days..
Brewed, in springs kitchen..
Spring is here!!..

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Rain Drops

Rain drops on my forehead,..
Showering me down ..
With heavens grace,..
Felt physical blessing..
Like John t' Baptist working..

Heavens doors opened..
A two way connection formed...
My wetness from the rain...
Washes my souls dirtiness..

Still it rains, on my window...
A need for it provided...
By my very nature as human..

Still it rains, rains..
Rain drops on my forehead..
Rainbows to follow after..

Monday, 15 March 2010

Analyse This

What do you call de ja vu..
When your memory connects..
The dots after the fact ..
Has been acted,..

Not like in t' process of the act,..
Like after the before into the now,..
Past the act in the now, now tense..
As in present past,..
Or is it past, past participle...

Not trying to confuse..
The confused minds...
Shake it off..
Thee, Thy, Thou..
I am no Shakespeare..

The subject matter still is
De ja vu!.. "after the fact"..

Cracking the da vinci code..
Is taking its toll ...
On the mind set,..

The conundrum is still unresolved..
Still awaiting your answer...

What do you call de ja vu, class!

Not in seeing, but in sat thinking 
Did I not just think of that
That, was in memories loss
Or is it, just de ja vu

Sunday, 14 March 2010

On A Mothering Sunday

What's good Mothering Monalisa...
Your smile radiates..
Shimmering ecstasy of oscillation journeyed..

Through the oceans and beyond..

Through static time to my door..
With greetings of tenderness and of loving..

For on the ninth month..
You gave me life from your womb..
Onto this here earth I grace..

You milked me and gave me strength..
With the sweet delicacy of your bosom..
You mothered me and nursed my wounds..

You gave me confidence..
And called me your Hero..
You told me the stars..
Were the first rest stops on my journey..

With you I know an unbreakable love..
The joy I see with the smile on your face..
Brings me happiness; my plugged in, source of strength...
Hope you have a wonderful day..

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Saturday Night, After The Before

Options; ..
On Edges, Verges, Cliff Hangers,..
In quick sand, beer goggles,..
Blurry speech..
That means its Saturday night..
After the before in the now..
And you drunk,..

Free cab drive and hotel rooms..
Till the morning break,..
Am I being booked?..
Watch it, Mr Officer!..
I know my rights...

Get walking sleeps on pavements,..
Caught on camera by Google map..
Make a run for it out of the cab,..
Pray the driver is no ..
Usain Bolt ..

Pay, pay double pay the cab fair..
Just to get home,..
Just coz to the cab driver..
“You drunken fool, ..
Don’t puke in my cab”..

Optionless, Dead ends..

Running out of Options,..

I will not drink again,..
Promises only lasting for the week,..
Options..lol jokes..

The Veggie Issue

I am willing to eat, but
Why can't I just eat a cow..
And have my greens,..
When t' cow does all t' green eating,..

Why can't I eat a rabbit..
And have a carrot..
When t' rabbit does all t' carroting..

What would a brother have to do,..
Why can't I delegate..
To t' animal farm..
My greens and peas..

Beans I like..
But I would have to be excused..
And leave t' room after, before the before..
For t' sake of good manners,..

Pop goes the weasel

I am just caught unaware..

With a cough and a sneeze..
Then oops, pop goes the weasel..

Are eggs for veggie foods..
I see no flesh on them..
Aha, aaah but oops,

Again pop goes t' weasel..

The cow's weasel,..
Is harmful to the ozone..
Or so I am told..
I wonder if ours is t' same..
Oops, pop goes the weasel

And for the plate of greens..
Hmmmm, pop goes the weasel..
I do like  my greens...

Friday, 12 March 2010

A Case To Be Made

A Case to be made..
A course to fight ..
A reason to live, ..
A sweat for convictions..

In ready-ment ..
For deployment..
Redeployments in walk..

On shoes that walk on path ways..
Of Mandelas, Gandhis,
King Luthers n...
Ernesto Che Guevaras...

A rebel in the making..
A stand against establishments..

An Anarchist..

A hippie ..
A hero..
In revolution, devolution,  to evolutions..

An empowerment..
Of a dream..
A light to follow...

A legend in names..
Immortality of a legacy...

A sculpture of embodiment.. 

Was I born to lead...
Leading on a course, 
In belief..

To be fought for, or to follow..
Following in  the shadows of another..
Who am I to be..

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Thursday, 11 March 2010


I am, I am..
I am yet undefined ..
The earth cracks bellow..
My strength I pull..

I am the shadows..
Of Christopher Colombo..
Yet to discover t' new world..
From old..

I am with faults..
Too many to mention..

I am t' best song on t' play list..
Only one with skips in its plays ..

I am loved, lurved,..
Hated and very dearly missed..

I am t' sun, fighting of t' nothingness..

Of the universe, I bring you life
Yet I leave burns on skins;

Skin cancer, Sorry!..

I am t' hope for all things positive..
Yet negativity,..

Hangs on my shoulders..

I am t' phoenix seed..
Fruits rotten in ashes..

Comes before me..

I am just human..
Weights of my positives a' negatives..
Define my equilibrium..
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Wednesday, 10 March 2010

With All there is

Hand Shakes

The battle grounds..
Of before, then, now and after..
The anticipation of resolutions..
Of days ends..
In light, In sight..
On verdict of Judgement actions..

Body language speaks signs..
No words relied on..
For that can be manipulated..
By man..

For battles fought....
Of one’s won and lost..
A chance whisker of clarity..
In breaks from old paths..

A hope for change..
Fingers crossed...
On anticipations of ...
Locked in handshakes..
And religion is world peace..
From dreams to reality..

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

The "Animal Farm"

Selfish bas***ds,...

Bast***dly "Napoleons" ...
Torturing fortunes of generations..
Awaiting their turn, on turn tables..

The King's announcers said,..
Said there were no more wars
No more causes to fight for..

Fighting t' civil rights 
And cold war..was over;..
T' battles has been won..

Hurray, hurrah, hurray..

So "Snowball"..
Was exiled ..

In excitement we went to town..
Like "Napoleons" with greed,..

Greedly torturing fortunes..
Fortunes, of generations..

Awaiting their turn;..
Selfish Bas***ds..

I will not blame
My blip, blip..
Tourettes for my "french"..
Fat b*****ds..on animal farms..

Gorging fortunes 
Like pigs starved for days 
No wonder no wonder 
Oh George Orwell 
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