₦airaland Forum

GLOOMY DAYS

life used to be good
All plus No minus
Kids playing in the hood
they dont even seem to mind us

All of a sudden - Moans and groans
With tones unknown
Broad day lights out
Everything's gone south

Markets now ghost towns
Faces wearing frowns
Sending death notes
Enveloped In blood cloths

A romance of death From the far east
A Collapse Of health, per excellently leashed
Creepy crawling serial killer
On a sleepy slippery world to Kill her

Just like robbin hood from the woods
With arrows so vicious
We were all fooled
Void of preparations- it beat us

Its man versus the suddenly famous virus
Check our popular leisure spots - "corona drive us"
The bane of mankind
So bad , the best of men sighed

Then we party - now we parry
Friendship was substance - now we distance
The hugs the kisses, the embrace
Oh! The bliss we miss - all thats been erased

All pain no gain
Aint this the Fallout of a gory game?
Should we continue this blame game?
while the souls of men drain?

Loved Ones quarantined
Tell me this plague aint serpentine.
Man made demon Craving blood
Deserting the house of our saving Lord

Please join the chorus
JESUS! Please heal us
Please stop this Covid-19
From been hightened.

My watch is having sex like my time has come – vector

Take a look round the city now,
no love oh what ah pity now
21 look 50 now,
hatred make things shitty now

Girls fighting over Gemini and Pisces,
every corner it's war and crisis... Patoranking

Am dressed with what I was blessed with

m the reason they made the dress code
They figure I wouldn't wild when I'm in my French clothes....ma$e

,even if we are only five alive, we'll still have some juice in us''

daddy,my buddy.
my "paddy"...my "caddy"

When I think of the black eye,
the type carried by "black I"
It Makes me cry and...
I can't but wonder why?

What is the need of a middle man
When there is no more a riddle man?

Let bygones be bygone....
We don't really need to buy guns

cry me a river

I am not the giver,
am not a diva.
Can't get you high,
can't even give you a fever.

When you are wet, I can't get you dry
When there is heat, I can't give no quiver.
Can't make you die, can't make you fly.
Ain't even got the liver.

Your whining, your tears, your complaints.
Your pining , your fears, your disdains.
Though strongly panelled,
But wrongly channeled.

There is a man upstairs
Our whole burdens he bears
Whenever you see me do those things
It is he in Me that wove those strings.

The curtains are ripped asunder
Now we can access him like no other
What is the need of a middle man
When there is no more a riddle man?

snug up to him, he won't lie
Draw nigh, open eyed and quote "i"
He made us, ordained us
And he is responsible for us.

So when next you decide to turn the heat on me.
Am a just sit back and Fry me a pizza
While you hit hard and Cry me a river.

BLACKBORN

BLACK BORN
When next you think of BLACK!

Think of coal,
think of massive power plants.
Who will give a "NO"
to a flashy hour glass.

Think of the ace of spades,
it's the highest in the deck of playing cards
The face of Blades
The type that be cutting hard.

Think of the dark night..
The precidence of a beautiful dawn..
Think of its might.
The bright of a powerful town

Think of a skillet,
for once, the fry of a tastefull source..
The messenger of a longing rouse and..
The blessing of an empty pouch


Think of a Black box,
Think of its saving grace.
The epochs,
the beginning of many races.

Whenever you think
a Black market stinks,
consider its reach
And not the rich.


When I think of the black eye,
the type carried by "black I"
It Makes me cry and...
I can't but wonder why?

We sweep the award Plaques
We blaze the tracks
Always ahead of the pack
A very Hard nut to crack


We tough to the bone
Forget the tone
We are Boneblack
And glad to be born black

Flowers that fade

bounty beauty in my many broken places.

faulty connects in superfluity of nothingness.

they meddled,

fondled

and at first twas a cuddle

but now!

swords they blaze

even to my face!.

sharper than the razor of a blade,

I have loved flowers that fade

Ceasefire

its my turn,

its your turn

everyone

is on the run



"am the don".....

"am next to none"

the sun long gone...

the fun is hung


houses - they burn

families - they mourn

curfews - dusk till dawn,

gloomy on the "morn"


less ado 'bout the battles we've won

and the war cloths we've worn

let bygones be bygones

we really don't have to buy guns

Daddy

A shinny light shone on the horizon
a lofty height further from the forensic
from the loins of wisdom...
wisdom from his loins..begetting mega-wisdom (s)

daddy,my buddy.
my "paddy"...my "caddy"
my confidant..my confidence
the penchant...the fence

my inclination...my adoration
my guide...my guard
man with seven lives,
mum in heaven smiles,

“his fertile effervescent mind”
his fatherly ever - present bind
the simplicity of his complexity
the intricacy of his sagacity

magnanimity exemplified,
hospitality embodified
enigmatically dogged,
sub - urban rugged.
undauntedly courageous..
conscientiously religious
indefatigable hustler.
easily understandable teacher

the earthen raged
you damned the bellows
tactically concealing the hidden page
you squeezed in to the hollow

glad you didn't listen
look at what we would be missing
we might have taken the long way
you always knew we'll get there someday

...Daddy, age with grace!
happy birthday.

Life is a Rendezvous

She hailed from that little town of Manhattan
She sailed storms,tides thus far and all through the harmattan.

He was born in France,
thought he got here by chance

She was bent on running away from her past
He swore to wriggle back to his past.

Her escape was panama, Here he strolled tra-la-la
She feared daunting fiends, He made bounty friends

Their paths crossed, they thought it was fate
Getting boxed? They thought that was Late

Why the hate for her past?
Why the quest for his past?

She had wrought evil in the land of her birth
He was bound to avenge his brother. His death!

She ran as far as she could. He retraced his step back and won't be fooled
Now the sword on which his brother fell, Now carries the child his loins welled

Life is a rendezvous, Many times this is misconstrued
There is nothing like overdo And nobody is overdue

In the process of running away from our Waterloo
We created a Swimming pool.

We squeeze our guilts in a bottle, But life always holds the corkscrew

We throw a stone from point A, and we ourselves run to point B
Forgetting that that is the stone's destination.

Life is a bugaboo, There is always a Counter coupe
Life is a rendezvous

cry me a river

I am not the giver,
am not a diva.
Can't get you high,
can't even give you a fever.

When you are wet, I can't get you dry
When there is heat, I can't give no quiver.
Can't make you die, can't make you fly.
Ain't even got the liver.

Your whining, your tears, your complaints.
Your pining , your fears, your disdains.
Though strongly panelled,
But wrongly channeled.

There is a man upstairs
Our whole burdens he bears
Whenever you see me do those things
It is he in Me that wove those strings.

The curtains are ripped asunder
Now we can access him like no other
What is the need of a middle man
When there is no more a riddle man?

snug up to him, he won't lie
Draw nigh, open eyed and quote "i"
He made us, ordained us
And he is responsible for us.

So when next you decide to turn the heat on me.
Am a just sit back and Fry me a pizza
While you hit hard and Cry me a river.

lippincott:
Beauty is meant to be appreciated
without the necessary urge
to possess.

Watch from a distance, admire
before you aquire, inquire
Love thrives better outside a cage.

Women are flowers,
beautiful ain't they?
in all ways patiently groomed
by the florist ---
made sweet, with every speck
of fragile delicacy.

His insatiable kids however
crave them for the satisfaction
its why they pluck them
its why they die.

And then with intentional sense of oblivion
we say
"there aint no good flowers anymore"

Lippins 2017

on point!

Here is my latest work writing just this evening for poetry soup. Please feel free to do the critique.

BLACK BORN
When next you think of BLACK!

Think of coal,
think of massive power plants.
Who will give a "NO"
to a flashy hour glass.

Think of the ace of spades,
it's the highest in the deck of playing cards
The face of Blades
The type that be cutting hard.

Think of the dark night..
The precidence of a beautiful dawn..
Think of its might.
The bright of a powerful town

Think of a skillet,
for once, the fry of a tastefull source..
The messenger of a longing rouse and..
The blessing of an empty pouch

Think of a Black box,
Think of its saving grace.
The epochs,
the beginning of many races.

Whenever you think
a Black market stinks,
consider its reach
And not the rich.

When I think of the black eye,
the type carried by "black I"
It Makes me cry and...
I can't but wonder why?

We sweep the award Plaques
We blaze the tracks
Always ahead of the pack
A very Hard nut to crack

We tough to the bone
Forget the tone
We are Boneblack
And glad to be born black

Omo Gori Ola
bounty beauty in my many broken places.

faulty connects in superfluity of nothingness.

they meddled, fondled

and at first twas a cuddle

but now! swords they blaze

even to my face!.

sharper than the razor of a blade,

I have loved flowers that fade.

The steel jacketed messenger of death!.
Hell:! Professionally proxied in a tube
A shell comfortably seated in a cube
Doors never shut yet you need to knock
...With a finger and not necessarily your fist before it let's go
The steel jacketed messenger of death.
Oh! What a messenger! So humble and obidient.
Without a knock, it remains there
Never delivering the message to its master
But to the aim? "The speed of light couldn't be faster"
Still the trusted messenger to still a breath.
You let,it jets,to the target it gets and in its nest its sure to melt.
It never mistakingly slips while on the shelf
But even at sleep, its never mistakingly deaf
To instill bucketed fear in every gender on earth.
Its a toy to a kid, employed by the skilled,straight to the hit yet indifferent o the killed.
With freight in its sound, to hell it is bound and the effect is now!
The steel jacketed messenger of death. Is .....
A BULLET

SCHOOL AINT SUCCESS we were mis-understood for fools. infact we had to drop outa high school. no breakfasts, No lunches, just brunches.

They made us weak whenever we speak. need not peruse the list of winners-we were sinners, GOD bless our dinners-lossers

we held on to the JESUS piece, kept our peace, worked out our piece.
Busily,doggedly,Relentlessly,but non-easily.

now we flood the covers of magzines-check em out on the sofas. We transit in limousines- checkout our chauffeurs.

back in the days they dissed us, hissed at us- now they missed us, tease us, wanna kiss us, JESUS! #STREETGOSPEL

threathened abortion. May that never be our portion! But wait! where goes all your dreams? like shooting stars, They beam, right before your eyes like in a film. cream de la cream- we all were once wannabes. expectations like the delivery of a 9months pregnancy,

hopes like ropes, ends like fences, means like pins. we all embark on the journey to the future like swiming through a croc-filled pool. the good news is that those dreams have not been aborted, they were just threathned