One for the Road. . . To Keep Me Company My love That one? She is a baby when she sleeps And a tiger when she wakes. She is a cat When she walks And a Leopard When she leaps. My love That one? She is innocent

"Particle" I am that molecule lost in ocean of time yet I strive to bestride time. I am that particle buried in a sea of clouds yet I fight to sink all clouds. I am the blind mortal hypo-trapped

"The Muse" the clouds are gathering angry dusts chase the seven hurricanes that scatter them in all ethereal directions vulcanoes are erupting and earthquakes topple the human achievements of

"Night, still" Time is a breathless runner whose footfalls switch days into nights into days into floods of rain of sunrays, into seasons... We wake, now, from that long night of ill omens, of

'I'LL TRAIN MY BOY(S), AND LET SOCIETY TRAIN MY GIRL(S)...' Some years ago, I eavesdropped into a conversation of some young high school boys, presumably my mates, although they seemed quite exposed and

"May Day!" A day of nightmare When termites cease work To reflect on the absurdism Of daily labour and monthly pay That don't add up. May Day! A day of nightmare When the termites line up To

"The Seed" Here was I planted and here must I bear. But if the soil turns rock Or the sun fires flames; if the vultures perch and peck Or the hawks swoop and pounce and I bear not here, Here

"Earth is not Safe" . . . he arms them and sends them as w(r)enching weapons into my life . . . smiling scissors, gorgeous guns and ravaging razors . . . he trains them as paramilitary pageants

"Let me be" There she goes the childless one with none to run her errands There she goes the unmarried one leaning...but no pillar There she goes the promiscuous one the barren husband-snatcher

"Seasons" In earth, our sires sowed and reaped their sweat in season. Now ruined — that earth, from the sheep the lions reap. What becomes of the den, when the sheeps are gone? [Image Source:

“Sleep” Sleep is when we slip into… and forget who we are where we are what we have… We slip into sleep: the rocky soldier at battle field, the abstracted widow mourning her only child, the spirited helmsman

“CORRUPTION” -i- You are a ten-letter word a virus cast in letters of vice the flesh of a tumor scrawling over our body like a pox. You are the seed transplanted from a foreign land from a garrison of

“Sunrise” Calmly, the sun grows from the East hills, a tendril from a yam heap. Patiently, her rays negotiate for the sky, dissolving the gloom of night sky. We look round and see the sun’s face opening

March 29, 2018 I dedicate this piece to you @damianjayclay: ”On your birthday” I’ll send you not jewels nor cowrie shells which you can lose to bandits; not linen nor Italian shoes which you can lose to

"Song of the Thief" If I steal my neighbour's chick they'll shout aloud my name. If I pinch my wife's pin they'll pin my name on doors. If I steal a whole bank they'll tell the tale with name

“Time” I Time exhumes man-buried honour And ploughs up earth-buried woes Time ploughs in old heroes And tills up new stars Time rears impossibilities and ticks possibilities Time sips in each worn world

"Power Pun" source:pixabay.com Power to the powerful Power to the popular Poverty to the populace Poverty to the peasants Power to the Pilates Power to the proud Poverty to the people Poverty

"My Sweet Mother" Image Source: @samueloption She counts the steps of the moon and listens to my breath as I in pleasure mourn She lends a shoulder to stand in order to pluck my destination from

"Tides" Tides rise to the high sky and return when too high Noon flames rage across hilltops but mellow to ash at dusk The green leaf repels the wind's wild muscles but bow to breeze when yellow

“AIDS to beauty” Amidst the cosmetic dance which sinks the moral cosmos, the lipstick hides the virus lurking in the lips, AIDS to beauty. One kiss and you awake eternity surrounded by Lucifer in horrendous