Saturday, 18 November 2017

If must leave me, Lisa

If must leave me, Lisa
Leave with everything but your scent
That maddening scent of fresh nectars of wild roses

If you must leave me, Lisa
Leave with everything but your warmth
That fire forged in the suppleness of your skin

If you must leave me, Lisa
Leave with everything but your smashing smile
That soul healing art of an angelic heart

If you must leave me, Lisa
Leave with everything but your words
Those words that weed out worries

If you must leave me, Lisa
Leave with everything but your sweet spells
Your spells of beauty and candor

If you must leave me, Lisa
Leave with everything but your voice
Your voice that calls me home from my wandering

the river between your thighs especially lisa

and i a terrible lover stumbled upon your banks-
thighs as soft as fresh cocoyam leaves
wet with an early morning's due
after a long journey of mad entreating

my mouth first tasted of your wetness
my happy hands deep in your deep
my thirsty tongue licking with sheer pleasure
the shallow parts of your womaness

but the river bank is never enough to drown
so gradually i grew closer to your deepest places
places where your body sends out ripples of pleasure
submerging and merging my madness with yours

what does the body find in a river if not the joy of swimming
and with each stroke of my manliness i swarm your river of sweetness
picking up with each stroke the speed of a committed man
even as sounds escaped through the hard strokes and broken breaths

and because a river enjoys the presence of a good swimmer
who is a able to break the might of her current
you began breaking into surrender with soft moans
even as more waters break out of your sensitive places


for a poet everything begins and ends with sounds
this is why words when broken into lines taste like songs...
but not all songs sound sweet, some come really badly broken
and this why dirges drop out of the mouth like the sound of a hurricane
cacophony is the sound of a man falling out of his own mouth into broken sounds
with each piece of him a monotone making up a sad piece rendered in sobs

sometimes I wonder what war would taste like in the mouth of its victims
would it just hide behind the bars of their teeth and melt into silence
or fall out as stories that sting the soul with mad pain like hornet's venom
but there more ways to know the acrid taste of sadness and loss
more ways to phantom how words lose taste like an old soup smelling sourly
you look at how life is as short as a syllable and words become bastards slipping away

goodbyes are the saddest words the mouth must say
writing them isn't as painful as how they fall out of the mouth
like the sound of broken ceramics re-vibrating on places they touch
this too is how cacophonies touch and break the soul away from the body
i'm learning how to taste broken things tonight as words fall out of me
breaking and touching places my heart hates with passion

Wednesday, 15 November 2017

Growing happiness

First hum a mesmerizing melody in your heart
Then cafune every endearing memory in your head
String them into words and words into lines and lines into verses
Let them each find a home in the tune in your heart
This is how happiness begins its growth


Tonight I sit at the feet of silence
Because life has beaten me badly
I hold her legs like one begging for mercy
But words are like battered brick walls in my mouth
For each time I try to utter my grief
A region of my mouth resounds
With the rumblings of ruins
That words just fall out as cacophonies

I pick a pen and book
Hoping to escape and find respite
In the inky maze of a poem
But my words fall out as a heavy rain
Falling here and there, too strong for a direction
Just touching everything and everywhere
She looks at me without saying nothing
Yet leaving me to find comfort in her shadow

adoration for lisa

each time you are with me, lisa
happiness becomes a reflection of your presence.....

each time you are with me, lisa
i become as one in a temple
my head bows in reverence
my mouth opens in receptiveness
of a piece of the body of god.

each time you are with me, lisa
i always would fall at your feet flirtingly
my lips anointing your tender toes
in kisses with the river in my mouth
you would lift my head & plant a kiss
telling me to draw nearer to your secret place
& following like a devotee
my head would rise hungrily
with the strong scents of your secret place
bumping into the shrine between your thighs
& my hands in reverence become raised
but every time they rise in worship
they are welcomed by your two beautiful burdens
Which you would always persuade I break in submission
So that their toughness is melted into sweet things
That my tongue would taste with delight
Teething & licking their beginnings

Tuesday, 14 November 2017

Solitude and Sodomy

In my head I feel like one in bed with a whole city
Only I'm not the one doing the loving or fucking
It's the city fucking life out of me
That I become a victim of psychological abuse

For oft in my pensive mood, solitude seduces in this city
All the emotions eager to explode in orgasm
By the touch of an accessible lover that my body
Becomes a home to horny horrors- say sin or stories that touch

Because intercourse is less fulfilling without a foreplay
My mind first drifts into places the city is most vulnerable
In my head a mother makes her daughter a merchandise
For men whose wealth would fill the hollow between her thighs

That her belly and barn is filled with transient things
Which the grave hath neither space nor place for
She sits daily at the door to welcome her daughter
Whose body returns from a soul wrecking war everyday

And when they come to feel her hollow with their horrors- sins
She takes to the pastor who promises redemption, a fill of their feelings
While he takes to his tithe-fat family the seed of sodomy
Leaving her to phantom why God is not a man when death drags her to into perdition

I hate multiple orgasms because the body is just one
So when before I'm done with a lover another presses
Where my river flows forth, I become mad with anger
Groaning and whimpering like one hit by lightning

Yet they come, more sad lovers whose bodies burn with lust
They hold me in places my body cannot reject a release
And at once, as in a flash ;my mind makes mad love with
The sad, the sick, the sorrowful, the lost and the damaged

That I just remain still, too broken to move away
For after all they remain as the impact of war In my mind
They leave with me each, a living part of them
That each time I slip into that moment of solitude they come alive again.

The Good Friends We Love Especially Chukwudi Onyegbule

The last time I wrote a poem like this
I lost the most beloved friend I met in the wind
And I learned that which comes with the wind leaves with it...

Yet love is a strange spirit and tenacious friend
It breaks you down every time a devil grows in your head
And when your heart hurts like a wandering genie

Again a new season is here with a blooming bond
And a nascent seed sprouts with wild delight
Above the memories sadness seduced into a courtship

To the good friends we love and cherish
We owe nothing but everything our heart could give
All the words we wouldn't say without beautiful reasons

It's November and I smell Noel with want
Because good friends scent and taste like Christmas
They come bearing all her shades of glamour and colours

For instance , Chukwudi's smile has the value of gold
His hello has the resonance of jingling bells
It warms the heart with merry and delight

Thursday, 9 November 2017


....... We must feel to fill

Every night you come into my head
A wanderer weary of wandering
Finding a vacuum to violate
Finding a field to cultivate
With your brokenness
But who do break?
Or you?

Every Moment With You For Lisa

When we walk wide apart
My mind travels away through
The rivers in my eyes into dryness
There are many ways to die, Lisa
And your absence has taught me
The most soul wrecking one
Yet when at once you beacon
And your arms like salvation
Is stretched at my forlorn frame
A fire finds its way into my bones
And burns away every gloom.

When you go into that moment of depression
That moment life breaks everyone
And your gleams become gloomy
I gradually lose the light of life - laughter
I become as one mad with grief
My mind becomes my grave
Yet each time you part your lips
And say you love me
At once, that very moment
My madness goes into oblivion
And on my face appears a new dawn

When my mood massacres your joy
The mood life offers as vicissitudes
So that saying hello becomes hard
As giving you away to a stranger
And your heart hurts as hell
Shattering your smiles into sobs
I become madder and meaner
Still when you nurse within you
That greatest seed of life - love
I become as one transformed
By the touch of God


There are nights like this
When words become scarce
Like peace in a city torn with war
Nights I look into that mirror of meditation - mind
And see a man too broken for a conversation
That I just sit there in solitude's maddening library - meditation
Feeling every unspoken words broken as ceramics in his mouth
And because we must feel to fill, I become as one
Bearing all the burdens of another like a messiah- say Jesus
I become God! No, I'm God. For it takes a God to see and feel
That inner energy and witness men call spirit
Sowly and sadly, a river runs full and wild
Overflowing its bank down my emotions evaded cheeks
Something tells me that this is purgation
That this river renews that which is the spring of life - soul
And like dawn's darkness disarming rays
A light lovingly lifts its body of beams in his eyes
For on his lips a sweet smile did bloom like a sunflower
Parting petals cloven by night's shades to dawn's light.

The Things We Miss Especially Cynthia Gentile

Do you still remember those nights we held our hearts
In conversations as cute as the nascent flowers of may
Every word unfurls into another and on and on
Even as the stars nest in their soft nectars
So that every word is a light that colours night's gloom
Do you remember all those shared sweet hellos
That filled all hollow spaces sojourning in our hearts
And the distance our destinations dug between us

Dying With Dignity

There many ways to run away from here
Here where time is a bomb set to wreck lives
You could find a friend in the heart of a noose and hang
Only a devil awaits you in a place where here is paradise
A place where you learn to dance to the rhythms of red rust

There many ways to escape life and live not just exist
As certain dark matter or genie or a load of dirt
You could find yourself in that very moment of solitude
And sieze the God in you- your mind, by His heart.
So that your worries become philosophies men learn

Lest you think my words are capricious
I have been to that graveside of the life too
When living became a disease without a panacea
And dying became everything escape explains
I sat at the edge of meditation and held God by HIS HEART

Wednesday, 1 November 2017

the other taste of brokeness for jasmine

i call your name
and something like a taste
of broken ceramics
churns and chokes my mouth
every element of dejection decimates
sweet springs of love

Seaside Blues For Lisa

Your lips are like coastlines
where tourists gather
To seduce sin or happiness
Where waters kiss soft sands
In a never ending endearing waves

I come into you,
A tourist finding fun
Mad with all pulses of pleasure
The water in your mouth meets
My melting mind with wetness and I turn hard

Your breast are invigorating islands sitting
High above where your waters break forth
At their fore lies each, a dot - like door that point to
Places only an experienced explorer envisions
Places where the body learns the language of lust

With you I have come to realize
That the thighs are tributaries
Where waters mate and meet
Exchanging energies and sweetnesses
Such as sex and orgasms

Your body taught me something wild
That the body of a woman is aqua marine
That It takes a mad mariner to marinate
Her deeps and peaks without wrecking
Or losing bearing with the course of pleasure

Flow into me tonight again
Like Niger into Benue
Break your boundaries
Let your wet wealth overwhelm me
Like there be cute contractions and retractions

Mad Music For Every Broken Cord

Life is meant to be an orchestra
A lot in a whole with indiscriminate harmony
Yet tonight, in my head is a mad painist
And a sad soloist sequestered by strange tunes

The same way waters reject eachother
Their melodies march against each other
Mad with passion, the pianist plays his heart
Sad with loneliness the soloist sings her heart

They both have forgotten the body is a collection
Of songs and the most melodious musical instrument
That he (the pianist) must first learn how to strike
Her silent cords and watch her sing sensual symphonies

They both have missed a major key
That which touches the depth of the soul - harmony
And undresses all forces of forlorn feelings
So that their hearts become empty notes to be filled with music

Being In Love


Love comes to me without reasons 
Like the way death comes without seasons
It comes because like death, it's the ultimate 
Iota of living before life depreciates
Into grey, bent bones and broken breaths

Love comes to me in the music of silence 
In the vacuum of mad meditations
Where my mind pleasures itself 
With the tasty tunes of edible muses
The rushing echoes of rhymes and rhythms 

Love comes to as a cemetery calmness 
It comes as the void life offers every now and then
The earth eats her bodies of fine fleshes 
Dead with ambitions and wildest dreams 
It comes to me as sad stories

Love comes to me as orgasms
When every now and then I give a part of me
In steamy sweats and sticky streams 
As tribute to a greater gravitation 
Where hearts are confluenced 

Love comes to as a dream drawn from desires 
Replaying the yearnings of my youthfulness 
The early morning feelings of lithe lust 
It comes as my image drawn to the sad window
Looking into the distance for a mirage of my song - Lisa

Monday, 16 October 2017

Distance & Silences For Matilda

Your absence blooms as sad things
And my heart tells me in whispers
That distance is another form of death
For it takes away all that once were

I set my ears forth like a lover's arms
Gathering all that could imitate you
Things that could evoke your being
They bring back sad silences

As I long for you
Night slowly drags her dreamy feet
And my heart heats with hunger
With wanting what distance does not give-You

Matilda, love is every sound you make
Your silences and sweet screams
Your tears and cheers
Your giggles and groanings

Captive Especially Emilia

I love you,
Because love has no colour or clime.
It's the hand holding as captive, time;
So that hours seem seconds .
When with you I walk the woods in autumn.

I love you,
Because love is the strangest song.
It sings its way through our lungs,
Even as we profess that which is beyond us;
Attracting that which our nature retracts

I love you,
Because love never replicates that which it gives.
Because there is no finding someone like you or us.
Because I love you because there is no cause for loving you,
Except that i love you without because(s)

The Most Golden For Funmilayo Grace My mother of inestimable value

I do not know how to begin this eulogy
How to say you have every beautiful reason
To be jubilant because all about you is golden
As you celebrate your golden jubilee

You're not just golden
Because you passed through the fires of life
To adorn and give us all the precious things of life
You're everything divine

Think every of everything beautiful
Everything wonderful and gleeful
Everything that makes life colourful
For they all are your reflections

I'm too proud of you to be modest about you
For the world is too large to have only you
And you're too large for the world
Because you're a world of worlds

I chose to celebrate you in the language of poetry
Because you are the poetess who never wrote a poem
One whose lips lent me the melody of poetry
One whose words woke the god in my heART

A Body Of Paradises

Because pain is not easily eased
In my head a beautiful city is razed
Into too many burnt memories
By the very hands that made her

My eyes examine casualties
They see what should be them
Calling for redemption amid ashes
With sharp screams and sour sob

Even as my legs lose legitimacy
Of the grounds they once walked
Immoveable they stood far from a burning me
Who with a smile burnt a city I once called home

And maybe home isn’t my bosom
 Rested on your cotton-tender chest, Adunni
Or my hands happily surmounting your twin towers
Or my body diving in the ocean of your wetness

Yet nothing is more certainly homely
Not even all my wild wanderings
Of Sojourns and journeys
As your body of paradises


Frustration is when you cast your grief at a silent night
Watching as sorrow makes love with silence
Feeling the fire of their unholy union
The groaning and mad moaning
The pauses and plunging
The soft sobbing
Sharp screaming

Other Broken Things (For Daniela)

Before you find yourself in pieces
Too scattered to find a form like this poem
Listen, happiness comes in simple ways
For you look at the smile of a suckling
And see something souls sin for
Something too broken for a strong soul
Because it comes in hiatuses
Loud silences and ellipses
Say laughter or smashing smile…
Life like poetry is the language of broken things
But men mend with worries, hate and haste
 That which nature hath made imperfect-broken
I love to find my voice on the lips of poetry
And sometimes my heart desires in the softness of her words
For soft words are easily broken into myriads of muses
Tonight I stare at the solitary moon and scattered stars
And name the sky mother of disconnected connections
For harmony is the name of the sky
As her warm embrace encompasses all night shiners
Into a sweet spectacle of shimmering shapes
Tonight I am too broken to sing for you Daniela
My heart palpitates to the sound of broken things
And oh! Rhythms I hear hurry into the silence of this night
Chasing after your salacious scents and lustful longings
Scents of your hidden and emotions heated places
I hear sounds touch places too hidden for the eyes
I hope these rhythms find you where your waters break forth

Saturday, 16 September 2017


i cast my thought at this silent night
fishing flirtingly for flowery dreams
something scary tells me silence
 is a sound of sad and broken things
that tonight has nothing but sorrow
as offerings for my  laboring mind
that dejection is another word for silence

night cries

night cries,
i drink her tears;
and grow into lines,
of rhymes and rhythms.

A Farmer's Feelings

adunni ,i am a proud farmer of words
let me plant some spiral seeds
 at your finely framed feet
watch them climb up into your heart
while you smile with those chubby cheeks
for with your smile souls break open
and as in redemption receive life

If must leave me, Lisa

If must leave me, Lisa Leave with everything but your scent That maddening scent of fresh nectars of wild roses If you must leave me, L...