I owe not my soul a dime for every truth or lies i told,
only my soul; not every chiming birds that leap behold,
Not every parrots that bite behind
And couldn’t come forward to spit their mind.

I owe my creator a good living and better life,
I owe not a damsel that chase the euros in my vault
And in her bizarre mind thinking she’s closer to being my wife
until the windy times come I could fulfil default.

I owe momma an apology; for every wavy stray string I pulled,
Not to you that never saw me coming when I was nulled,
Only her lullabies ignited memories not your miserable lyrics that sucks,
I owe you not a kiss in the ass because you own few bucks.

I owe the brave that gave me reason to race
And the faceless errand-ghost that gave me the grace,
I owe you all that laid at least a brick on the path to success
And to that very you that restrain my soul at duress.





Mama told me not to unfold my garments,
Men are men; hunting, like Eagles after Hens,
She told me not to take a ransom for engagement,
All they want is the Cherry betwixt thighs.

Mother’s words were worthy but his were
mightily weaved, mother words were logical illusions
when he planted venomous words at the tip of my heart,
Mother be gone while I wander like wreath of clouds.

He sucked the lies mother told with his lips
gluing my tongue with his, smooching my hips.
Mother had lied the moment I got laid,
All that matters, matters not; all she said.

I knew lust worth more tangible than being lost,
I found out the mysteries behind her words:
The honey in the sugar she delivered,
and my cup of tea, I had lost in lust.





I wonder why poems don’t teach anymore,
It doesn’t reach the basement of the heart anymore
rather it stops at the gate of gullet,
It doesn’t allure shedding from the eyes anymore,
It doesn’t scream to ears anymore.

Bards aren’t doctors treating sores anymore,
They rather weave words to seal a deal,
Or carve words to sell for personal interest,
Truth aren’t the target anymore
because they want the cool cash hot.

Words aren’t medicinal to souls anymore,
It doesn’t heal the world any longer,
It doesn’t give meals to the poor in spirit  anymore.
It doesn’t attain souls’  hills; high places in the heart.

Heal someone with your pen,
Someone needs your carved words to breathe,
Someone needs your words for strength,
Someone needs you for guidance,
Right words are worth more than gold.

Someone needs your voice to proceed,
Someone needs to hear your words; to smile,
Don’t let your pen thread idle like a needle,
Don’t make it sleep like a dead dream
rather make a battle with it like a soldier
because that’s whom you are.

Heal someone with your pen,
Let your poem teach and reach souls,
Let it heal sores of the oppressed,
Let it penetrate high places above the land,
Let it spread to the empire like fire,
Let it teach, reach, penetrate, heal and spread the way words does.

Let it attain high places in hearts,
Let it attain high places on earth,
Let it sing the evergreen songs the world’s needs,
Heal someone with your pen
while it desists venom in hearts.





my hand as he ripped his zipped trousers,
My hymen will suffer singing the tonic suave of his want,
Not this time anymore?,
I shivered with the expression he brought,
I summoned to his call like always
while my hymen sinks shallow more like a well.

My trusted dad alures me laid under his robe,
A kin I never knew procured potency in my impotence,
One so called uncle, had pleasure in my treasure,
He desired, I backfired but he showed me
how men treat matters, smiling at my fall.

A brother I trusted, trapped me swopping me to intruders,
He constantly haunts me to my fall
and still showed me love no matter how deep the sore.
I never knew he was earning pride to his purse,
Then I knew a man could not be trusted.

A man I never knew came like an angel,
A man I never knew,  touched me with ease,
He revived my hymen from shallow wail,
He showed me life beyond malicious realms,
He gave me heart to trust men,
A man I never knew became a man I’ve always known.





Exodus makes the world of slaves,
We are leaving the chain of pains,
Leaving agonies behind,
We are leaving the world.

One day, we’ll depart to a place,
Canaan,may be the home of peace,
We’ll march in troops,
We’ll cross the skies with our wands.

Get them from murder-hood,
Hearts enslaved in snare of destructions,
Everyone would leave, get them!!!
Exodus makes the world loose.

Save them, let us keep moving,
The world is moving faster,
Get them to the fast track
and let’s leave together.

Exodus makes ’em leave,
She moribund screams,


He moribund bewail, exodus,
Exodus, take ’em far to outer space.

Exodus,to prepare a place
higher than mountains,
Exodus, to prepare a place
where our eyes could see beyond the skies.

Exodus!! tell them we’re all leaving,
Even Our possessions here, we are leaving them all,
Exodus!! make it known,
We are leaving for the outer space,
Exodus to a better place.

Exodus!! stop laughing at ’em,
They enjoyed the wrath of this world,
She’s having fun,
He’s falling at her feets, tell ’em
we’re moving to a place of no return.

Exodus!! let them know,
We are not here forever,
Tell them we are strangers here,
Our home is eternal, tell them.

Exodus, let them know by heart,
Mundane possessions fade,
Tell them, so we can run the race
to a better place, the outer space.






Comma pause like trafficators,
Colon Is incomplete without half life,
Semi colon needs to elucidate vividly,
Full stops halts like red in traffic lights.

This life is punctuated with commas even inverted ones,
The traumatic drama of this life is placated with danger,
This life is paused like the interruption of punctuations.
Who will continue this life? Who?
It worths continuation.

This Is another life punctuated with colon,
Incomplete like the cycle of frogs,
It needs another second half to logically complete,
This life is punctuated with colon,
Who will complete it, Who?

Here another life lies like the hibernation of bears,
It is punctuated with semi-colon,
It is locked like the dreadlocks of  Rastafarians,
This life is 180°, it needs to distinguished to the final,
It is punctuated with semi-colon,
It needs to elucidate lucidly like the blue sky.

Here is the end of another life,
Tired continue a living,
Here it takes a break,
It needs to stop fully,
This life is punctuated with full stops,
It can’t move like stationary swamps.


Here another life continues,
It is a life quoted,
It is well observed,
Everywhere it goes, it is noticed,
This life is punctuated with quotations,
It has Learnt from experiences.

This Is another life,  a character indeed,
It lives genuinely
because it’s the character of itself,
This life is punctuated with apostrophes like the character texts in a rare context.

This is another life separated
like the parts under garments.
A life simple like the heart of an infant,
A life that take words with fingers,
It needs another simple soul to be pleased,
It is a life punctuated with hyphens combining the heart of two to make a compound.

Here another life stands to see beyond,
It needs amplifications,
It’s a life that needs better ways to live in,
It needs vivid explanations to the mysteries of life,
This is a life punctuated with parenthesis.

Another life full with surprises,
It lives in awe, seeing what life brought in disguise,
This is a life compromised with joy and sorrow,
This Is a life punctuated with exclamations.

Here is another life that ask earnestly
like a beast of no nation seeking for innocent bloods,
A life seeking for solutions to solve problematic chaos of life,
This Is a life always seeking to know,
This life always beg to survive,
This is a life punctuated with question marks.

What a life?
Punctuated life,
A life to live with symbols.




He said to himself,” I am tired of life,”
“I need a rope laced round my neck, better than a knife,”
“Life has nothing to offer
give me solitude to go far,”
“Altitude of suffering had enslaved my heart,”
“I need a lift from this discord earth.”

Worries gripped his heart, as he swayed like a pendulum,
Forlorn had played a role to him, an intimate chum,
He needs an altitude of solitude higher than his attitude,
The world he left for, there a perfect solitude
lies with tensed of multitude.

The morning he is afraid of,
The evening stars ripped his spine off,
He had seen a place better than his  race,
He held death to his arms as he slain in ace.

The skies are opaques, he needs to see beyond,
The earth, he sees  in mirrors that shows wonders,
His heart were too entangled, he needs to break the bonds,
See wonders shall never end but it ends in ponder.




A man flipped from the staircase shouting, “gazelle”,
He strolled to the Supermarket’s aisle staring at the gazelle, like a hunter thinking of what to do,

“A gazelle”,
He shouted again flipping mow.

Soon he marvelled, jumping like a deranged man,

he shouted again sounding like trailers’ horns.
He ran across the highway to a van,
He shouted holding tight, “gazelle”.

It hopped from the van moving faster,
The man shouted again,” gazelle”,
The gazelle moved so fast
running back to the supermarket’s aisle.

 He waited for so long looking everywhere,
The gazelle was so fast with a very long leg,
The man moved towards the gazelle in disguise,
Lastly he shouted, “gazelle”, come see the thief.