₦airaland Forum

Please this is prose not poetry or better still spokenword rants

True, not original but I felt like using it to express myself

I write what I feel
And I feel what I write
To get that right feeling 
I put a feeling in what I write
Then the feeling is what I write
The feeling is what I like
I mean that feel you get on the mic
If a page is empty, filling it is what I like
You feeling me right?

I write what I like 
And I like what I write
I like to be right  
But I don't really write to be liked
I get likes when I write
But I don't write for the likes
And not to say that likes are not right, 
but writing won't get you liked
And having the likes doesn't mean you can write

Give me something to write
I can write something you like
I know you like someone that writes
My type of writers recite at cyphers
They're phased out like typewriters
We gotta fight fire with fire
And re-ignite the fire inside us
I'm the type of fighter that inspires writers
To see the light and put out fire like fire fighters

You can count from left to right
How many writers are left to write?
And you be left thinking its not right
Some are on the mic but can't write
Some can write but the market isn't right ‎
But even if there's not much left that feels right
Look, I'm still here, I have not left I still write
In my thoughts are so many books left to write 
Spokenword performer, still getting booked left and right

He is the greatest writer in Africa, just that he is not yoruba or Igbo.

Who doesn't know the mischief of a cupid?
Who doesn't know it's a dragon croony?
And who doesn't know love is a monster?
It roars and ravage the river of the heart
It breaks the river gates, everything turns sour

New tears fall on the dry path of old ones
Old wounds aren't spared, they bleed again
Falling in love is like raising a monster
It will surely rise and turn against you
And boots of spikes shall tread on your heart

How I wish love found some other soft boots
This monster leaves a river of salty tears
It doesn't give a hoot for your fragile heart
It cares no shit for your useless emotions
It walks head down with legs in the air

Tears and bitterness are free in the politics of love
It uncovers debris that were swept under the rug
This monster called love is a restless thing
I ask, why is love such an itchy thing?
I still ask, WHO LOVE HELP?

Tears to faces, loads to hearts
Helplessness to minds, thirst to throats
Hunger to stomachs, poison to souls
A comforter on this sick world? No
A soothing balm to my aching heart? No

The world is mad, the headlines will bear witness
The blood soaked moon will keep record
The world applauds medals of genocide
Lies and deceit is fair in this mad world

I'm waiting for the tail of time
The world is sitting on a time bomb
If I ask my boiling questions
The CIA will be sent to calm me

If you dare seek the milk of truth
Write your will before you face the gallows' hold
And the rest will consume the sweet vinegar
Indeed madness is a daily right here

If you hear say them lock me for sanko
No worry yourself, na questions wey I ask
If you hear say I commit sucide, na lie
Na the autopsy people write my sucide note

Somehow, I'm labelled "dementia"
If you hear say I done go psychiatric hospital
No mind them, my head correct wella
Na because I torchlight all the darkness

Signs have told me when to stop
But I have defied their insanity with madness
I have crossed the last line drawn
Next, a blade will tell me when to halt

I say the world is mad, the call me a rebel
And I will smile as a vulture heads the jury
I will spit on the hoary face of the hangman
For it's an awesome thing to be a martyr

But the rest of the mad world won't remember me
The mad world will dance on my grave
The next time you kneel and pray to the sky
Know that everything the news tells you is a lie

Sin and failure used to live within me here
I've been spat on, ignored, brushed aside
Words hardly tell the pains of the past
Salvation found me in the shit pit of sin
Amazing grace is the new song I sing
The word of God sprouts on the loam of my heart
Grace is a new slate, I write my life anew
The sun rises from its fall, I'm like the sun
Always rising from my many falls
But who looks at my life today
Doesn't see the scars and failures of old
But who sees me now, sees a product of grace
But who knew my rat chase of the past
Will praise the strong fingers of God’s grace
In the foolishness of my yesteryears
My head was on the chopping board of guilt
And in the wisdom of my sinful stupidity
I was badly broken, beaten and battered
In the sad times of my worldly days
I always went to bed with my eyes wide open
Witches ate my sleep, I only took it in sips
Sometimes Satan builds a pyramid of conceit
And we boast foolishly in our sheer ignorance
But grace is a u-turn against the way to destruction
Indeed, sin is an office of sharp thorns
I count myself very lucky to ride on the wheels of grace
I cannot tell all but lean on the pillars of salvation
Grace is the river flowing deep within my life
And grace is not sold in the marketplace
It is buried in the fields of salvation
As for me and my household
We will serve the lord
Amazing grace
Peace

Papa groaned on his wretched deathbed
O! Sick papa, bile was in the tears shed
Why were the ears of the city deaf to our call
O! Poor papa couldn’t afford common panadol
Yet Ebuka and Ndu were in the city bathing champagne
Abandoning papa and I to gasp in the air of pain
After mama's demise, papa sold his heaven and earth
Arranged their destinies like the firewoods in his hearth
Papa's sweat irrigated their academic fields
His fervent prayers and advise were their shields
Just like a giant tree, they grew bigger than the planter
Buying beautiful mansions in Paris, London and Atlanta
While papa and I floated in this leaking hut
Feeling the bites of hunger as cobwebs rent our pots
Papa wrestled the hands of sickness, his death is a pity
Now Ebuka has invited the weights of the city
Ndu purchased gold casket with foreign undertakers
CNN and BBC have arrived, all the movers and shakers
Where were they that hot hour we needed them most
Papa must be cursing them even in his ghost
They have come with a clarion of opulence
To bid Papa farewell with a carnival of condolence
Papa died in the shoes of deliberate neglect
Now Ndu and Ebuka display their flamboyant connect
They cry a river, his casket they are ready to worship
If only the know the topic of the bird's gossip
If only...

Abuja sun is not your friend, so I was told
I crept into this city in search of gold

I was drunken for the city and couldn't keep calm
A job here and a hot chick will be my soothing balm

It is a sunburnt city with signs and wonders
I miss PortHarcourt rainfalls and thunders

The asphalt of Abuja already know my sole
From Jabi to Apo is just a short stroll

Now money has eluded me, no job not even oguaja
A city without conscience, O! Wicked Abuja

But in PortHarcourt my wage was mere pittance
No much suffering, no walking for long distance

I have knocked doors in almost every street
Today my shoe has given up under my feet

I sit on a kerb and watch as my shirt soaks
Sweat and tears flow like fountain, bracing sun's strokes

Home beckons, I can't cope with this baking weather
It has been one shut door to another

Yet my pride keeps urging me to move on
I'm fighting two wars; hunger and this unkind sun

I can no longer roll stones from base to summit
I will rise and go back home to feed on my vomit

The sun here is hot but the girls are hotter
I'm folding my plans of dating a senator's daughter

.I will fold my dreams and cv into little bundles
Abuja wasn't made for me, so many hurdles

My pride will wrap itself on the waist of my pain
"Abuja my greener pasture " never again...

How will she help the Poetry session?

One rose from the world's garden is enough
Being cuddle by her arms is really enough
Moonlight strolls and holding hands is enough
Tasting her saliva when our lips play is enough

A creeper twines itself around the unbending tree
That's how she leans firm on me, that's enough
She is my pleasure, she is my delight
She is so beautiful, I can't look at her enough

She shares my troubles as well as my joys
My heart is lodged in her heart, that's enough
I am the only butterfly feasting on her nectar
I grow thin in her absence, her presence is enough

The mere sound of her voice opens my heart
Like a lotus touched by the rays of sunlight
And goose pimples break out on my skin
As my cheeks are flushed with excitement

One moon is the night sky is just enough
The heat from one sun is more than enough
I'm not perfect, I'm just a simple lover
She's simple too, only likes fancy tricks

I will be kissing her from cheek to cheek
I see reasons not to jump from chick to chick
Enough is enough for me and those toxic bitches
My bae is perfectly enough and enough will do

Your behind is messing up my mind
Anytime I see your behind, I lag behind
Your kind of behind is hard to find

They will hang me for the love of your
Behind. Candy of the eyes indeed
Now my blood flows like tidal waves
Some things can be so dear. But
Yours comes with username and
Password. Testaments speak of
Mortar and pestle, the contours
Reveal the catapult. I boil in the
Groin as you force the image of
Your legendary behind on the
Backdrop of my mind. Such a
Heart burden. Your behind has
Tapped its root deep into my
Skull. It eats my sleep and rents
My nightmares. It builds a mast
Of thoughts. I have dug my own
Grave and I have measured its
Depth. And I have constructed a
Balcony of plans on the forehead
Of time. Your famous behind has
Hit the bull's eye, now I'm tethered
To a quest of hacking your password
And username. I will check my emails
There even if it will land me in my grave
After all, something will kill a man
Your behind is the promise land
Sincerely

Your behind is messing up my mind
Anytime I see your behind, I lag behind
Your kind of behind is hard to find

An old farmer was working with the only horse he had
All of a sudden his horse broke a leg, how sad
His neighbour said,you've lost the only horse you've got
You are so unlucky, you will lose a lot
The farmer said, maybe so maybe not
Let time decide

The next day, he bought a smart horse
The new horse increased his work force
The neighbour said, guy you are now hot
With this new horse, you have made a lot
The farmer said maybe so, maybe not
Let time decide

The next day, the farmer's son fell off the horse
And broke his both legs, what a loss
His neighbour said, things are going from bad to worse
Once more the farmer said, maybe so maybe not
Let time decide

Later that day, the army went from door to door
Drafting every able young boy for war
Picking them up one by one
Including his neighbour's son
Yet the farmer's son wasn’t drafted
Because of his temporarily handicapped
Calm yourself
You can't reflect on running waters

Portharcourt rain leaves footprints of
Sad stories. I have been there
Trapped in the deluge
I have tasted the cold tears of the sky
I have seen the evil grim of the cloud
I have listened to the claps of thunder
I have danced to the unkind music of rooftops
I have seen the ugly pictures of lightening
I have felt the wrath of blizzards
I have been frozen by the arms of cold
I have seen sun run in exile
I have heard the groaning of trees
I have also searched for Noah's ark
I have seen floating buildings on pathways
In the face of all these evidence
How can I deny the facts?
PortHarcourt rain often bares its fangs
It has stretched its fangs at me
How can I deny the facts?
My own roof have been flung open
My hut swims freely with rubble
My floating mattress ferry me
O! Wicked PortHarcourt rain
Your footprints brings pain, scars and tears
I am humbled by your lessons
And I keep to my knees and prayers
"Baba God, please bring back our clear skies"

My heartbeat is the language my heart speaks
Once broken now my heart leaks
My mind is a dictator but my heart wouldn’t spell
My heartbeat sounds like a wooden bell
My heart tweets so I follow my heart
Scars are road maps like a work of art
Poems are shadows on the wall
My heart is a gallery with relics round the hall
My heart is a museum but private 
My heart store secrets, things I love, things I hate
My heart blossoms with the petals of laughter
But when sad my heart changes chapter
My heart is a garden filled with thorns and roses
My heart is like the rod of Moses
It does wonders, bigger than what I can handle
My heart drips wax like the stem of a candle
I shut the door of my heart and opened the window
It can be ruthless like the spider black widow
My heart is cold like the shoulder of the last girl I toasted
“I’m better than you”, my mind boasted
My heart is wise but my mind is otherwise
My heart is here but my mind lounges in fool’s paradise
My mind is loud but my mind stay hush
My heart minds its business but my mind gives it a crush
Then the crush crushed my heart and spat on it
So I cage my mind in my brain and a hat on it
My mind is too mean but my heart is one of a kind
Don’t mind my heart, at times it can be out of its mind
My heart has lied before and my heart knows
My heart is loamy, the seed of love grows
My hand on my heart when I say the love pledge
But like 2G network, my heart is always on the edge
I put the mic on my chest like stethoscope
In fact my heart is a telescope
Experience made my heart a beast of burden
The wheels can cease its turning all of a sudden
I’ve the right to remain silent in a cardiac arrest
God forbid, I’m aright and it pumps left of my chest
My heart is so deep, it has a tunnel
My heart controls the flow like a funnel
My heart has a womb of its own
Yes I rock, so I have a heart of stone
The heart of Pontiff is the heart of a soldier
Don’t say I never told ya...
I'm an organ donor; I put my heart in this piece
Like a transplant, my heart goes out to those not feeling this

This is the question I used to ask
Can't ladies do without make up?
It's more like wearing a mask
I see the real face when you wake up

The year is twenty sixteen
All ladies on make up and weave
This is not how the world had been
Because those that can't afford it grieve

Let me tell you about my beloved Iyawo
Pretty and natural like the Gurara waterfalls
Iyawo mi will never paint and dress like ashawo
I like her the way she is, not looking like a doll

But one day the mirror became her best friend
It was weird, gave me shocksparks
Finally, forever came to an end
And I searched for her tribal marks

Wow, my omoge Yoruba with the gait of a queen
Eyes of a goddess, and your mummy water hair
Omo Oduduwa, you look like a sweet sixteen
Be like this forever, let the paddings never clear

It's okay when she's fine and simple
But I will spend my money to make her more
Beautiful, classy, charming, fine woman no pimple
And if you think I hate make up, nope... that was before

Lisa keeps the flood gates of her eyes open
To irrigate the fields of "God send my husband"
Teardrop is no where towards abatement
She would squirt it right into God's eyes

Haba! Husband hard, husband hard!!
But she has over 12k followers on IG, 5k on FB
To say the least, BBM and twitter nko?
Her inbox and DM will soon blow up

She really thinks her great maker is thrilled
By this uneding desperation and husband hunting
She has heaps of raw materials but prefers ready made
Now time has scrawled it's gore on her face

Lisa swears she's not the ugliest of spinsters
I quite agree with her, that's perhaps true
But real beauty is sown in the heart
And good husband is a seed not a product

Lisa feels marriage is a crown of a woman's worth
She should count her exes, name them one by one
Her prayer request is just an idle lot of the disgruntled
Lisa, don't drown your stars in a tide of tears

Lisa's tears are often salty and sour
On Saturdays when knots are tied
Today she has come to the alter with a request
"Lord, I'm patient just give me my husband now"

We know where sharp tongues
Make music at the doorstep of dawn
But wait o, some hours back
We heard screams of ecstasy
In line with the rhythms of noisy sex

This our neighbours will not kill us
He will knock her silly in public glare
She will use his toothbrush to clean the toilets
Her mouth will rain down fire and brimstone
He will drown in bottles as bullets fan his ears

It's not all bad with this husband and wife
Sometimes they can be cuddled up on the sofa
Sipping bubbles of milkshake served with ice
All of a sudden in the slightest mood swing
Hell will be loosed and the house deroofed

Today, they are raining cat and mouse
Everyone knows their usual rants
"Witch, you won't send me to an early grave"
And she'd reply "useless man, you think I'm your slave"
They are both odd to the extreme

God has sealed this patch work
Let no man or woman put asunder
Apart from the storms in their marriage
Love still has its foothold in their home
Yes I feel it, and I'm a witness

Love is just man and woman caught in a whirlpool
What did anyone expect of such loveheads?
It's all about the good, the bad and the ugly
The bad and ugly are always the loudest
But their wahala knows no cure, OGBANJE LOVE

I'll meet you in valhalla when the battle is done
Eyes swim as your soul fades one by one
My rugged brave brother, hold my hand
O warrior, on death's cathedral shall you stand
On the grand banquet hall of Odin
Your impulse fills anew, valhalla of immortal origin
Heavenly world of Asgard, away from pain
Take your place among the Einherjars on a golden plain
We are men of iron and steel, flesh and blood
Roaming the world like a raging flood
In tears, I saw your misty soul fly away
The unkind hands of Valkyrie came your way
Hear my voice as I scream your glory
I shall hold your memory, I shall tell you story
I must keep sailing from pillar to post
It's not yet my time to dance with ghosts
I must remain, Valhalla is but a dream
My cup of vengeance flows off the brim
I shall meet you in Valhalla when the war is won
For now I still battle under the burning sun
For now I remain here beneath the skies
Awaiting the Valkyries, only then that my soul shall rise
It is only then we shall reunite
The great Hall of Valhalla I shall one day sight

Boma had braved his hardon
He climbed everest, I beg your pardon
Wedding night sent shocksparks through his groin
He is hot and boiling with nothing covering his loin
His luscious bride is tear rubber
He will dance in the rain, no need for rubber
He gropes in the dark but candlelight are lit
She's tucked under folds of the sheet
He has been hot, keeping the heat like a thermoflask
But tonight, he is ready for the bloody task

The task is not simple at all
The night is short, and tears fall
Tears stumble along beaten path
The hands of the night could not hold his wrath
Boma's erection plunged into a well
And you say he is married, you say it is well
As for her, the shame is too long
Her thornbush of a garden is not what's wrong
It is not even the breast that swings like pendulum
It is the width times depth times cum

The damaged goods builds a pyramid of deceit
Standard organisation of Nigeria must see the receipt
No no no, the pope must hear this
Is this what being born again is?
What quantity of truth can win trust for her lips
Her aperture has plunged his heart into eclipse
Honey was absent in the moon that cataclysmic night
The night was heavy but his heart light
Vultures still scrub blood off the love he had for her
It was a vinegar-moon with a drowsy star

joseph1832:
What poetry form is this?

It's my customised pattern

Somewhere around the world, someone is
Startled from sleep for fear of heartbreak
And somewhere around the world, another
Sips juice to relish a broken heart. Why are
We so bent in breaking down the pillars of
Love. I threaded on debris of my breastplate
And hid my heart in the dust of social media
Then your heart left an ear for the cry of an
Aggrieved lover. I knew one demon wakes
Up a million demons. But you showed me
How one angel can emerge from the mist
And raise a million angels too. You met me
At the wrung of the sky and planted little
Smiles on my dusty heart. Now it is a garden
Of love. Your gentle waves have washed the
Bile from my shores. The abiding presence
Of your love scorns the falsehood and fraud
Of "recharge card girls, the Mr Biggs lovers,
Take me out girls, I want to fix my hair types,
Fair weather girlfriends, even flash flash ones"
I now measure true love by the scale of peace
Of pocket. Peace of heart, peace of mind
Plus peace of God. How can I deny
The facts? Love often bares its
Fangs in the face of all
Evidence. Now you
Have come to
Sweep the
Pieces
Of
My
Heart
In place
Piece by piece
Sinews, like a jigsaw
I think I know why you are
The only girl that will go to heaven.
It is written in pages of my heart, I have
Come to love the texture of your beautiful smiles.

Sunday morning, Tony is a church goer
Last night, he saw double like Noah
He partook in baptism of the booze
Today, his head is in church maybe to cut the noose

She's Chioma, that girl on red see
Last night she pathed thighs like red sea
Today she's singing soprano, hitting high notes
Maybe her heartful of worship is oily in God’s throat

My landlord's Jerusalem bible is a sign board
Yet he has lined his wife's head on a chopping board
Last night, he beat her until her nose oozed out pus
Today, I can feel my landlady's racing pulse

I recognised that usher at the gate of the church
I think I have already seen too much
Indeed the church must be a hospital
I've seen enough to make me cough spittle

For those of us who know those on camouflage
We will beg the doctor for a discharge
Because thieves and call girls speak tongue of thunder
I see occultists and killers tithing , I wonder

Who razes down the house of Saturday night
Has an apartment in the house of light
Next Sunday, I'll come to ask God why
Does Saturday night habits hardly die