The War Within

It is simple to be in love

The difficulty in finding one fast fades

As time peels off the scales of emotions

From the eyes and heart

And logic and reality set in

Before love’s long awaited arrival

All was dreamy vogue to come true

Beauty, lust, affection, fashion

Were all to see and long for

Time has brought love

And with it an attendant

Array of effective temptations

In the presence of reality and logic

Conscience suggests a balance of love and lust

A way out of a deeply desired quagmire

Principles are reduced to laws

Promises are tagged with conditions

The body vibrates expectantly

For short term benefits

While emotions and logic

And reality

Worry about the effects

Of today on tomorrow

Of laws on principles and conditional promises

I hear it is the phase of reality

The war that rages within so long as

Decision lacks or lingers

The Two Things I Know

If you ask me why the sky is blue

I will respond that I do not know:

Or why it is suspended so high above,

My response will remain the same.

I cannot tell why I was born male,

Nor can I describe my mother’s feelings at my birth.

There are so many things in life

That I am conversant with

And yet, cannot tell why they are so!

Like you;

I cannot tell why you are beautiful

And I cannot tell how u got that beautiful.

I cannot pin-point why your smile is all I need sometimes.

Neither can I tell why your frown gets me so confused.

I cannot explain my attraction to you!

These are the things I know:

First,

If you ask me your worth, and my feelings for you

I will say three words: unquantifiable, priceless and indescribable.

Although, if you ask me why I feel that way,

I will have no certain response for you.

Finally,

If you lose all your beauty and attributes,

I know I will cherish the nothing left of you.

TRUE LOVE

It will come.

You only need to be present

In body, mind and soul.

You will see that it will come.

There will be turbulence.

There may be strife.

Confusion of the past may taint your thoughts

But through it all, it will prevail.

The whole length of your pain

Will pass like a snapping band.

Its effects will fizzle like

The change from night to day.

You will count your losses

And eventually find none.

Just wait patiently,

True LOVE will find its way to you.

DEATH, MY NEW ALLY

Death,

You are the most dreaded of all spiritual sages.

The doom-bringer of all ages.

Incorruptible and obedient servant.

Unhesitant even for a moment.

Heed my word my new found friend.

Wipe out my every fiend:

Only wait for my word

Before you draw your sword!

Although I know this today

That on some fateful day

You shall break this friendship,

I will abide till you take me to the next Fellowship.

OUR DELICACY

What an attractive stench!

Only foreigners invited

For homers are already in great attendance

At the filthiest feast of our time.

Our delicacy

Consists of the most despicable;

Numberless crates of b-r-o-k-e-n, rotten eggs

Of dead and decaying vultures.

Soup made of phlegm for appetiser;

Golden bowls of assorted excreta

And sparkling vomit-maggot blend;

With bottles of urea for dessert.

The venue is a grand brothel.

The venue is heavily packed.

The venue is hermetic.

The venue is fart-full.

Everyone eats and drinks of these

Our delicacy!

The waiters and waitresses

Are young and promising prostitutes and gigolos.

ALL NUDE!

Fangless snakes protruding from the men;

Pink, dark tunnels in between the women.

Everyone is stained everywhere

With whitish liquid substances-

Some thick, some thin.

Everyone is somewhere except Home.

We all are here:

The Clean and the Dirty;

The foetal, we and the dead-

Their corpses and the stench of their corpses

Serving as basic ingredients of our meals-

Experiencing our delicacy!

There is nowhere here to go.

There is no rush to arrive or leave.

There is neither day nor night.

The weak and hungry are in their places

Working to send their sweat to the Evil Party.

Amidst us

Few die unremarkably,

Still we ravage

Our delicacy.

Some do puke words of ice, and fire

But none pukes appropriate action.

BON APPETIT!

ODE TO POVERTY

Could I be more thankful to You…

Probably not.

Born unto the clayey earth

Of my humble dwelling,

Into the love of my parents-

Their best encouragement to me,

My strongest weapon.

You took me while with them

Through the deepest, darkest

Hardships of all time and

Taught me what my parents could not.

By means of experience

You taught me the very essence of

HUNGER and STARVATION

Such that I need no schooling for

The riches of tomorrow.

Bankruptcy knows no better bearer.

Poverty,

You made me display you

In private and public

And in place of the resultant embarrassment

You taught me to proudly flaunt you!

By our visitation to luxury and ease

You taught me

Diligence,

Prudence,

Philanthropy,

and,

Friendship.

Living in you has earned me

A bagful of respect from men of all walks.

Each of them leaves me with a simple remark-

YOU WILL BE GREAT.

Do you not see?

LOOK!

See for yourself today

What you have made me tomorrow!

We had our sad times, though,

And you may never know another rebel of

A pauper I was.

Happily too, we are Divorced.

But I will forever remember you.

The truth and realism I learnt

Will guide me till the end.

Finally,

Thank you for the transitory riches you showed me.

Fitting into the permanent is being quite undemanding.

PERPETUAL LABOURERS

So they say after the fact,

When the curtains are split,

That we shall dance the dance.

The uphill dance of reconstruction:

Reviving what we can

Of all that we have destroyed.

Dancing on the rough grounds of regrets

Sharply pebbled,

Making our beds on the road full of harsh objects.

Night grooving over us its hard-feeding pinchers

And dawn its cheerless scorcher.

Down tools!

Work no more

For sins we know little!

So they say again

That men unevenly labour perpetually

For what they constantly destroy!

With the reason never clear to us

We labour back and forth

For the fruits of the fruits of our labour;

People we may never know.

COLOUR RIOT

In this fashioned world

They still judge my colours.

I am told that different colours

Go not together.

Green for greenish.

Black for blackish…

I am not the Maker of Colours!

The Painter

Chose to make me so;

Why worry me over that?

You who loathe these Colours

Mount these Clothes!

How much do you control to judge

Which or not goes with the other?

Must Black not be worn with White;

And Ebony and brown?

Worse still,

You contrast sky blue from deep sea blue.

What Colour separation!

If the words can stay together,

Why can not the colours?

You may ask the offspring of Colour Fusion.

THIS IS SAD

Many a man is waited upon

By patient vultures to devour.

Man

Has lost her predatorship

And become the new prey.

The prevailing predator is Hunger,

Its sisters Starvation and Famine-

All three-

Ravage my helpless neighbours.

I thought we lived in a community

We called International

But it is clear we are alone.

What shame need slap our face?

What pity need cross our heart?

What plea need profit our pockets

Before we help us?

Yours sincerely,

Very Sad.