• Poetry

    Papa’s Field

      Tonight, I’m a little girl again. On a reverie to the days my soul was free, And my feet danced carefree To the rhythm of the wind; I find myself in Papa’s field Chasing sunshine with glee, Chasing blightsomely When the sky loses its glow And heavy downpour threatens my gaiety Outside my window, tonight, The sky wears a frown, Unnerving the zeal of starlights; The heavens weep sore on my ceiling, Pouring hard like the waterfalls that cascaded Down my glands three moonlights back Tonight, I should be toasting to misery again Like every other night these downpours Unlock the ocean in my glands But my soul is…

  • Poetry,  Zoe's Cafe

    Finding God

    1. ask and it shall be given unto you, seek and ye shall find, knock and the door will be open 2. the tomb which was sealed with a stone, laid open, why do you search for the lord here, in dead places, he is not in your body 3. god is not elusive, just omniscient 4. not in purchasing power, or cravings, or marijuana, or spirits, you misunderstand your hunger 5. at the last supper, you sat beside andrew, the food had no taste on your tongue, that lump of your flesh was numb, like your faith, a body broken on the table, blood spilled in the cups, you…

  • Poetry

    WHEN FEELINGS BLOSSOM

    Does it always have to visit? I mean, that season of the year when feelings blossom like lilies in the field, When heavy downpours Make mockery of our single status In cold and lonely nights. . . Does it? They say this weather is for two But all I see is some bloody miscreant that finds pleasure In breaking the rules Extending its visits beyond the shores of husbands and wives And knocking on the doors of you and I, Single folks in need of redemption From the power of konji And though our salvation is closer than we think This waiting process is taking eternity Don’t get it twisted,…

  • Poetry

    Laraba

    Laraba, She that was born On a Wednesday, What will you do, When the fires starts to burn, When the harmattan wind Blows the hot coal Into a raging bushfire? I wish fires were obedient But they don’t heed to mother’s counsel They don’t remember resolutions Even when you mean it. So what will you do pretty one, When your belly churns and turns Leaving you on the floor Like you had a seizure, A lightning of passion Setting your body aflame?   Tell me, what will you do? Will you put a bible over your heart and thighs, Hoping it will stop his stares And unholy caresses? Maybe you…

  • Poetry

    You Wrote My Story

    My first cry could’ve won a Grammy If mum has taken her massive tummy To a recording studio Where sophisticated gadgets would’ve captured with great pleasure, My first live performance For posterity’s consumption.   It would’ve been a one-hit-wonder By a-day-old singer Who felt mistreated and went yonder, Away from the scars Her fragile being couldn’t endure From greedy opportunists who’d have ensured She lived for their sole pleasure.   But blessed are you o God! Who drew a safe plot for my habitation, Subduing wicked men’s intentions. Long before the knowledge of books, Before writers and creativity met, Your pen kissed the earth, Charting my course in the sands…