₦airaland Forum

Dreary dawn..the cockerel yawns
To tired i guess to beckon in the new morn
My head is pounding
The beats of the previous night not yet to be forgotten
Its 4am the day has begun
Head first i dive into my world
Alaye double your hustle
The unwritten code of the streets...
6am...
Yaba!...Yaba!...WASU!...under bridge Yaba!...
The streets of lagos begin to bubble and brim
This is when i feel most alive...
The smiles on the faces that seem come from within
Ekaro ma!...ekaro sir!...ekuje meta!...mummy nko!?
Our greetings carried across the air lets the world know we are here...
We are a living breathing masterpiece...each soul a sttoke of captivating colour
Each moment a brand new, evergreen scene
I smile to myself...we are the erstwhile heroes of our everyday comedy...
From the island to the mainland
The bus interior draped in semi-darkness...
I gaze as the brilliant orange of the sun dances on the lazy waves of the ocean...
The bridges an ominous reminder
We are all connected...
My mind takes it all in...as mornin turns to afternoon
And night falls again...
Lagos!..a city that never sleeps!
The bright lights and razza-mattaz!
The pomp and pagentry!
But alas my night is quite serene
In the arms of my beloved...
Her smile says it all
I can see the Lagos in her...
the fire...the resilience...the variety...the love of life
Our love like the bridges...an indomitable connection which has stood the test of time...
As my eyes become heavy..my world plunged into darkness
I reminisce on my day...my city..my life
I see it..I see it all through the eyes of a painter
Every moment colourful, unique...and then nothingness...
Until the cockerel's call beckons me...to live in true colour again!

Bleep!
This shit will kill me
but my addiction is the cure to my ailing
Let time pause...make it all go away
let the sunshine through the dark clouds in my heart on my mind's rainy day
Benson switch and benilin
a paradox in itself
the cause of the cough and the cure
the devil and the angel
in constant battle atop my weary shoulders
Why do I worry?
And what for?
Expectations, pressure, love, my job?
Aboki...nagode...benson switch abeg
Oga pharmacist...dis world is chokin...where is the benilin...
Benson switch and Benilin
Bleep!!!
This shit will kill me....

four letters with so much power
To some its a cross
To me its a smile in the dark
Your heartbeat resonating through your breast and bra
As we take refuge in each others arms
I am a dreamer--no Joseph by the way..
So I live to dream nd dream to live
So these four letters, four letters, are more than just what can be felt between you and I
Picasso's curse...an incidental, what did you call me?
Yeah that's right...casanova
Ill advised conclusion advised by ure ill feelings due to just four letters
L-O-V-E
Flesh and blood am I
I breathe the same air you do
So when your contentious flames fanned to a raging roar
Your desperate urge for attention from all quarters by me discovered
Apologize never!...your pedigree even the ancient gods could not surmount
You left
I stayed...with just my four letters
And when i found someone to share those letters with...in you came
Your erstwhile voyage, cut short i guess the grass was not greener
Now I am the accused...you the judge, jury and the persecutor
For how could I, would I, should I?
Share those four letters with anyone but you, even in your absence
Forced forgiveness, the verdict in the tears....
Is it a crime to love?

tears

She expects me to love...
They expect me to give
I am expected to conform
What a way to live

Lying awake, sleepy hours are long gone
The weight of my world and theirs I hope my shoulders are strong
Take me now!..oh pls take me now
Silence as always...a brief refrain...nd now I am back in the cycle
Rush, rush, rush...here to there and back again no moment idle...


Cz she expects me to love
They expect me to give
I am expected to conform
What a way to live

Is there a place for a somebody lik insignificant me
The mundane hero...the protagonist...the not so convincing average joe on life's homily
I dare say yes...this melancholy existence
Expectations met...and sometimes not so met
Give dis twisting journey from life to death--some meaning...

She expects me to love
They expect me to give
I am expected to conform
Oh...What a way to live