A Place to be

Surprised myself as i wake
To smile or frown;feeling i couldn’t crave
not having an idea of where i wandered
Very strange,I wondered

Woke up in an imagination
a place not similar to my nation
felt i belonged there than any other
I sat and dined with cleapatra

Of them so nice indeed
preserving culture of ants and sheep
a place where the wind is wild and free
so you could here the voices of the trees

A place where there’s concord between wolves and sheep
and no hatred between men and lions

this place is very calm and sweet
and i could speak to the flowers and breeze
a place so clean and white as snow
and i could see myself grow old and old

a place to be………………………..

BLURRED SEED

We send semen to your ovary
Make no thoughts of abortion.,
Respect the palm and the psalm
underrate not a verb of a poetry line
Or bite a tongue whenever you dine

These words from wise men
These words form a farmland
where knowledge and power can be cultivated
the seeds were planted by the ‘Son of Man’
adopted by king solomon,down to rastermen,
ancient elites and clerics of long beared
down to us,them,the children

The seed of Godly and Goodly
the fruit of Godly and Goodly
Must be eaten respectively,careless;where you from
there shouldn’t be religions,there shouldn’t be doctrines
we was to have good and godly way of life and we must have it.
i am not criticizing but picture this;

I sat with Adam at his time
I sat with Noah, Abraham,Isaac,Moses,joshua,elijah,Isaiah,David,solomon i sat with the Christ at his time
I sat with peter,john,paul,matthew,mark,luke when they wrote IT
down the memory lane,we obeyed the rules in pentateuch
The Mosaic Law
No one was christian untill christ descended from mary’s womb
To fulfill the laws of his forefathers.
He didn’t change it but rather amend it
In his “transfiguration”;he sat between moses and elijah
Meaning;he’s greater than them!
Throughout his amendment of the bibbia
he healed,taught,and obeyed the law which he amended.
He is christ and we his followers are christians
Why not obey his laws,His plan of salvation?
He said “he’s the way,the truth and the light and no one can go to the father except through him”.
So why obey the mosaic law if your a christian?
He took the mosaic law and made changes and it became his
So in all why not obey his laws?
Will you sacrifice a sheep when u sin?
Christ made the complex mosaic law simple for his children;his followers.
we communicate to God direct and he intercedes
we don’t communicate to God through priests,like mosaic days
So why the partitioning?
We should be one and there shouldn’t be doctrines
to separate christians;God’s children.

Read this carefully and try to understand it.
It is the truth.
Jesus christ is the truth to salvation.

REDISCOVERY

My eyes gentle weeps
for the treasures of life it always sees
The topsy-turvy fictions,but real as sleep
times are hard-harder-hardest

The sun waves,the moon sings lullaby
as they run to return,i age like wine
i now know why.i lost a desire,
In that picture,of a suit and tie

Same old photograph
With different character’s every year
Thus;.my crooked thoughts and rigid hearts
slept in soot;Failure !!!

A Side-Of-Nature

Float a water on the edge of a cliff
For a fly-about homeless bird to drink
ancient measures;the hero’s flying messenger
who traveled over countless miles to hint at danger
with a “remains” as proof
Who could not believe a truth?
And endure a dully word in opposite with “fool”
the sycrophancies between the differences of the two
are olden but of modern transfiguration
on accordance to every breathing entity
and even not breathing
the importance of nature;anything
the stone could save a life in a desert
or in silent deep sea for a swimming pervert
As herbs are medicines
So is fate to a dream
humbleness is life in genesis.
so is a leaf on a stream.

CHRISTIANITY AND MONEY

It was a while i presence myself in church,five to six month of absence i guess.I had been a “kubolor”.(locally used to describe someone who’s not punctual in the institution he/she finds his/her self.).So last sunday,i really meant to break that spell and visit church.So i went.

I was late.When i went,they’d prayed,sang praises and worship,payed offering,tithe and danced but the ‘word of God’,they’d not preached.I hesitated whether to remain or return home cuz whenever i attend church,truth saying;it’s for the praises(to dance and enjoy myself).I stayed for the word of God and i was really overwhelmed.The message was a concept i’d already wanted to understand so i would ask who ever shares the word of God with me but no one made it understandable.It was like God made me attend church to smash into that message purposely.The message was titled “CHRISTIANITY AND MONEY”.

All the time i’d wondered whether working on sundays were irregular especially to those in hospitality industry where there’s even less time one can spend with their family.My chef always use to tell me that;In hospitality industries,there’s no such thing as ‘My working time’,cuz you can be called to report to work anytime.This is due to the nature of the work.Even some pastors use to come and eat at the restaurant during church hours.He tells me this and sight examples whenever i seek an OFF-DAY on sunday.

It was worse for the wear.I couldn’t stand some church members of critical chasm on this issue.They taught my chef was cajoling me on the matter.But everybody in my field were obeying cuz its a must in the rules of the institution.I couldn’t just disobey or bleach my task-time in the workplace unless i quit work.So i turned deaf ear and continued my work cuz i cant quit work and sit home to die of hunger.Although in everything,we must put God first.

The pastor read 2 KINGS 4:1-7 which indicates that;”(A man worked very hard in church but when he died he owed people so his wife and children were to suffer for the debt……….cont)”.Meaning the man wasted his time in the church thinking he’s doing God’s work so he didn’t work for living.He relied on people’s loans and charity.He termed those people of same fate ‘FOOLISH CHRISTIANS’.With this,he didn’t say we shouldn’t feed our soul or do God’s work,but rather be mindful and tactical in all our endevours.

He continued that money is very important or essential in this life so we should respect,work hard to acquire with prayer and God’s guidance and use it wisely,but one shouldn’t misuse it to the negative influence on others.Some may criticize that its in the bible;one shouldn’t think about worldly object but the kingdom of God.Well i think my pastor being so realistic of modern circumstances in accordance to poverty,i could sense he was creating awareness to the congregation that a positive workaholic will always be blessed but should also be fruitful in the Lord.

He further explained on the duties of a person in the church in relation to that of the household;that the church is the abode of God and needs positive consistent effective managing.And that if one can’t handle their household,how much more the church.Sighting examples of quotations again on(1Timothy 3:4-5 and 1Timothy 5:7-8).

He concluded on ECCLESIASTES 10:5-7.Where he went back to pinch on poverty which is due to the borrowed minded ignorant corrupted leaders destroying the society.So each and every individual that breaths should work regardless their situation for the betterment of their homes and personal life.And then one shouldn’t be idle and always pray for money from God,for God cannot throw money from the skies to people who are not working on earth.He made it clear that,God will never fail us as he promised.So when we work we should pray hard and God will make a way.We should work according to whatever and wherever positive occupation positions we find ourselves inn and shouldn’t judge but always pay our tithe to show our appreciation for his deeds for his faithfulness is for ever sure.AMEN!!

SIGHT OF THE SUN

Full moon;nothing is on my sleep
My head under pillow and hid air under my sleeves
and the state of solitary perturbs me
but i will put off for you in my dreams

Too long;i have slept askew
through thoughtful weary-nights but nothing new
my room get’s bigger and my bed
but i will linger in dreams as i said

My heart is sinking in grief
Good as indians losing a chief
have been idle now am about a run
and will clinch to the footsteps of the sun

The best things my life was yet to loose
under that long moon,now i smile to a dew
and will crush on the sight of a sun
to justify my long wait and ran.

M.O.T.H

The good old peace at young
the joy that dances to the rhythm of dawn chorus
to dump your heart on a blossom tongue
with your eyes lost,exhibiting the eight incisors to your mum
endless joy and love of your isolated feelings to fall
……………”Ignorance is bliss”

They say it hurts and not
Commitment may be the factor you can’t hault
if the metaphor discreetly cling
the static void that beeps to bump your heart
And u have doubt piercing through the veil of honesty
your sweat is an un-accepted amnesty

written and posted by kingsley[(piikae)

BEHIND A RING

No one had seen him drowning
in the spit,his wife pooled up
translated emotions,later a regret and burgeoning
demised self consciousness suddenly stood up

in life and in death
sworn after unleashing feelings at first
Ruth is now jezebel
loathing the uttered words from the prophet

His heart in claustrophobia
why was the ring put on the left-fourth?
how can I inverse the uttered words before that altar?
unless another lion spills blood
No turning back,as ordered by the “bibbia”

The children must learn this and on
to the future,that exemplary should adjourn
So patience is a virtue
But prayer must be the key

written and posted by kingsley[(piikae)

SLEEPING HEARTS TOWN

Our hearts no longer lay in annul
our passion impedes building concrete walls
the eagerness of despair crush our hopes to fall
we cower being blindly mogul

This land …….
shutter a dream to eradicate reality
the dry sky inhibit human ardor
and we keep wealth in scrunity

The toss however is often lost
and a ‘few’ kiss the sun that hot’s
leaving a ‘more’ to spill out ire
and would reject a free life given elixir.

Dance with the Devil– Immortal technique

 

 

This song by immortal technique (revolutionist rapper from U.S.A) is very significant and moral,and i feel i should reblog it for some readers who haven’t come across it read and pick something essential out from it.

I once knew a nigga whose real name was William
His primary concern, was making a million
Being the illest hustler, that the world ever seen
He used to fuck movie stars and sniff coke in his dreams
A corrupted young mind, at the age of thirteen
Nigga never had a father and his mom was a fiend
She put the pipe down, but every year she was sober
Her son’s heart simultaneously grew colder
He started hanging out selling bags in the projects
Checking the young chicks, looking for hit and run prospects
He was fascinated by material objects
But he understood money never bought respect
He built a reputation ’cause he could hustle and steal
But got locked once and didn’t hesitate to squeal
So criminals he chilled with didn’t think he was real
You see me and niggas like this have never been equal
I don’t project my insecurities on other people
He fiended for props like addicts with pipes and needles
So he felt he had to prove to everyone he was evil
A feeble-minded young man with infinite potential
The product of a ghetto breed capitalistic mental
Coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed
Dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes would bleed
But he was sick of selling trees and gave in to his greed

[Hook]
Everyone trying to be trife never face the consequences
You probably only did a month for minor offences
Ask a nigga doing life if he had another chance
But then again there’s always the wicked that knew in advance
Dance forever with the devil on a cold cell block
But that’s what happens when you rape, murder and sell rock
Devils used to be gods, angels that fell from the top
There’s no diversity because we’re burning in the melting pot

[Verse 2]
So Billy started robbing niggas, anything he could do
To get his respect back, in the eyes of his crew
Starting fights over little shit, up on the block
Stepped up to selling mothers and brothers the crack rock
Working overtime for making money for the crack spot
Hit the jackpot and wanted to move up to cocaine
fulfilling the scarface fantasy stuck in his brain
Tired of the block niggas treating him the same
He wanted to be major like the cut throats and the thugs
But when he tried to step to ’em, niggas showed him no love
They told him any motherfucking coward can sell drugs
Any bitch nigga with a gun, can bust slugs
Any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood
Even Puffy smoked a motherfucker up in a club
But only a real thug can stab someone till they die
Standing in front of them, staring straight into their eyes
Billy realized that these men were well guarded
And they wanted to test him, before business started
Suggested raping a bitch to prove he was cold hearted
So now he had a choice between going back to his life
Or making money with made men, up in the cife
His dreams about cars and ice, made him agree
A hardcore nigga is all he ever wanted to be
And so he met them Friday night at a quarter to three

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
They drove around the projects slow while it was raining
Smoking blunts, drinking and joking for entertainment
Until they saw a woman on the street walking alone
Three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home
And so they quietly got out the car and followed her
Walking through the projects, the darkness swallowed her
They wrapped her shirt around her head and knocked her onto the floor
This is it kid now you got your chance to be raw
So Billy yoked her up and grabbed the chick by the hair
And dragged her into a lobby that had nobody there
She struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs
They got to the roof and then held her down on the ground
Screaming, “Shut the fuck up and stop moving around!”
The shirt covered her face, but she screamed and clawed
So Billy stomped on the bitch, until he had broken her jaw
The dirty bastards knew exactly what they were doing
They kicked her until they cracked her ribs and she stopped moving
Blood leaking through the cloth, she cried silently
And then they all proceeded to rape her violently
Billy was made to go first, but each of them took a turn
Ripping her up, and choking her until her throat burned
A broken jaw mumbled for guards but they weren’t concerned
When they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and bruised
One of them niggas pulled out a brand new twenty-two
They told him that she was a witness of what she’d gone through
And if he killed her he was guaranteed a spot in the crew
He thought about it for a minute, she was practically dead
And so he leaned over and put the gun right to her head

[Sample from “Survival of the Fittest” by Mobb Deep]
I’m falling and I can’t turn back
I’m falling and I can’t turn back

[Verse 4]
Right before he pulled the trigger, and ended her life
He thought about the cocaine with the platinum and ice
And he felt strong standing along with his new brothers
Cocked the gat to her head, and pulled back the shirt cover
But what he saw made him start to cringe and stutter
Cause he was staring into the eyes of his own mother
She looked back at him and cried, cause he had forsaken her
She cried more painfully, than when they were raping her
His whole world stopped, he couldn’t even contemplate
His corruption had successfully changed his fate
And he remembered how his mom used to come home late
Working hard for nothing, cause now what was he worth
He turned away from the woman that had once given him birth
And crying out to the sky cause he was lonely and scared
But only the devil responded, cause god wasn’t there
And right then he knew what it was to be empty and cold
And so he jumped off the roof and died with no soul
They say death takes you to a better place but I doubt it
After that they killed his mother, and never spoke about it
And listen cause the story that I’m telling is true
Cause I was there with Billy Jacobs and I raped his mom too
And now the devil follows me everywhere that I go
In fact I’m sure he’s standing among one of you at my shows
And every street cypher listening to little thugs flow
He could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn’t know
The devil grows inside the hearts of the selfish and wicked
White, brown, yellow and black color is not restricted
You have a self destructive destiny when you’re inflicted
And you’ll be one of god’s children that fell from the top
There’s no diversity because we’re burning in the melting pot
So when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never
Because the dance with the devil might last you forever

After reading it,you will know rap music isn’t evil as others think,some are good and carries moral lesson that will create awareness to children in the society on the path they want to walk on to success.When i first read this,i was overwhelmed and conscious of the story it carried.I sat down and wondered why hasn’t this particular song captured a grammy award?This should grab some awards,don’t you think so?

 

 

 

POETRY FRUSTRATION

the ink is
and my strength is
my blood is weak,so is my body
these words,to be seen in midst of foggy

“kill my mind,resurrect my passion
Even in the bible,there was joy after all
hardship”

I eclipse these concept
factual word-play is disgraced in my contest
to every receiver,i rob your conscience
for the sheet relaxes anytime the pen is in concert

“kill my mind,resurrect my passion
Even in the bible,there was joy after all
hardship”hardship”

i hustle to delve in every line
and put demise to doubts
with aim to descry like a shrine
Poessy!!to self-esteem,its a scout.

“kill my mind,resurrect my passion
Even in the bible,there was joy after all
hardship”

ROTTEN VALUES pt1

The church bell tolls
A time for confession
in two row pose;the slaves
one by one,the priest calls
as they off load hidden burdens,routing suppression
and creating roads under it graves
each moses to each stick
and i stand three steps back after sixth
murdering my pride before my call
for evil haven’t been idyll to all

The priest;he wore a white cloak and red cassock
for his duty is to cure all souls laxing in havoc
give hand to the guilt you carry-on
and deliver it to the rose of sharon

It was half past thirty
and i could see all-waiting thirsty
their faces turn old and still
for those completed the cry turn away thrilled
All have sinned and all fall short
but God forgave without a court

i shivered on how to elucidate
for the blood i carry,is bitter to taste
and hope i remember it like yesterday
am so filthy and cant find my way

twas my turn
and i could feel the flame of my cowerdness burn
as i look into the eyes of the priest
off loading my pain is what i do at least
the cause of the rotten food i ate at the feast
my breath couldn’t stop to seize
unless i confess to be free
unless i undress it from the cloak-and-dagger
to my holy heavenly brother

To be cont…………………..

THOSE GOOD TIMES

When i sit to reminisce
Those good times we spent
The sharp edge triangular Paris
our moment was of that beauty length

We walked in the skies
we suspended on lands.
Rolled in a story of fairy tale
and love pushed the boat we sailed

To the island supposed to
and thus here we are in blue
Upon all hard times been through
cheating i played,and disguised your trust too

It was all sad but great deep down
We are happiness now and sorrows drowned
Let toast to the past
For in today it held hands.

DOWN THE VALLEY

EPITHALAMIUM

on your way to the chosen bed
we see you now and saw you then
When you were just a sprog
hopping around,disturbing as a croak of a frog
-At night

We heard you
now someone hears you and your in-mind
You will trill in bed where,we wont hear you
but will see you at full when your belly shines

The joy of all lass
You wear this day at last
as you will carry your blessing after nine month
so carefully as a traveller’s compass

When you gain a dewy-eye
after that labour work
know that we wrote you this.Aye!
and we left you at his door step

Goodbye 2012

KNOCK OR KNOCK

Knock on the door of success
someone will hear you knock to open
knock on the head of our backstabbers
knock them down to be inert’s
knock hard and now
all knock is knock
So let all knock…
We are winners !!

AM HERE

*Sign*
I should be in church!!

So as this day
All will kneel and pray
For those bad and good days
He took us off our prey

I should be asking forgiveness
Yet am killing with knife
Watch night-ing in a kitchen
Mushrooms,french toast,pancakes,..is this life?

I vision my friends out there
Who;we all are striving to succeed
Be on knees, proclaiming his deeds
For a perfect job.He is king

I should do same.
Yes.I will do same
In the kitchen;I will let him know am there
I need salvation oh God,my friend.

I should be in church,not here!!

A SMILE

chillz,

There she sat painting a pot
Crossing her legs and her buttocks on the ground
Near a stream;on it,a whirlwind round and round
She says;one day i will be a beautiful butterfly

She cry partially as she is shy
With her hair covering one her eye
Where is my love and my part?
I can see his ribs but not his heart

I can touch his mouth but not his lips
Maybe i have not a thing they feel
Or am dead in the palm and wrist?
Nothing i can hold or feel

She kept lamenting and on
Out the whirlwind a bubble
So pale like a queens gown
Suspending in the air like his abode

I could just suspend,because i am perky
Nothing is impossible with a smile
Give sorrow quito gladly
Because these air have been fair with pride

It is a matter of time
Keep painting and smile
You will be beautiful as a butterfly
And will find an adornis at the right time

CRUSH

I wrote this story out of nowhere.It is never my experience but it just occured to me to write.Please read and comments……..

At the spot we facing the picture,our backs holds grudge.Seeing is believing.For the more we move on,our soul will drown in lust.The situation stays aloof,yet you never faced the proof.
We embarked on this journey to this “town”.Your idea was it and i supported with anxiety,nevertheless of the spell we met.The vehicle engaged in a speed and was i on the wheel,with her holding the map and compass because we knew not the route to that town we were driving to.We were working,hand by hand,and our heart in mind with our memories reminiscing already about our short stay at the unknown town.Yes,we smiled and laughed.Kissed,stopped wheeling and slept for days,all in the joyous journey we’ve sparked.We were defined with companion .Until…………!
We crushed our vehicle to a rock sitting just by the road side.My ribs hit the steer.I felt pain in my ribs and began whimpering.Though she sat behind me with joy and talked pleasure whiles i was suffering.Thinking i was just pretending that injury (” who would fake an injury after a fatal accident”?) she kept mocking.”Does she really think about me?”.I kept asking and wondering.She was still dining in joy.
Later that moment,she realized i shoe’d no pretense and reached me out.She was late already because i was dead in heart.We drove,turning our back on the journey we sparked to our town;where i was hospitalized for two days.During my stay at the hospital,the nurse (46 yrs of age) assigned to my care-taking never left me even for a tik tok of a clock whiles She was at home thinking “its just a mere pain,i will be fine”.For those two days i jumped into the mind state of the nurse who also happens to be lost with hearts and carries the burden of unloved guilt.So compassionate,benign and warm hearted she was,i could easily give in.As everybody knows,love evolves from feelings and compassion.Am strongly feeling something for the nurse.
Will i be wrong falling for her?.

BEHIND THE ROCK

Behind the rocks
outside the enemy line
sighting my attack,hallowed with might

Just behind the rocks
To shield my amour with stony faith
thy blood to drop on my head,and i strike with hate.

When i saw jesus cry blood on the rock
my eyes all witnessed when he was took
His blood remains;i put in my knots to shoot

The evils,the enemies
Who searched me but couldn’t find because i was pranked in invincible cloak
And i shot them in line

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PAINTED SKIN

Every skin colour count.
The heart is the main paramount
Yet we cherish skin for appearance
whiles our soul cry,lacking performance
Our beauty is a bless
Our skin is and not a curse
People love us for who we are
Not our skin colour
Painting skin dismiss your identity
You are best a non entity
because you fear to approach the real you
and trying to fit into someone’s shoe
Picturing hell,whiles heaven lies in front of you
Beauty lies inside our state of mind
and not our illusional perception
Indeed!.The heart is our main paramount

Quote 1

“Sin is without permission so never be permitted by sin to be wicked”.
Piikae

I WONDER

At this moment i sit and write
At this moment you are reading
The same moment a person is bleeding
His pride is lost in a fight
What do others think?I wonder.!

kill innocent lives yet name it holy war
Take bribes yet call it dues
Rape virgins yet call them prostitute
Instill fear and rob self esteem more
What do “they” think?I wonder.!

What have the world be?
Do we seek for the kingdom
or we speak to the king at dawn
When we need protection
For we fear cremation
What do “we” think?I wonder..!!

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WHAT MORE CAN I SAY

In front of you am a gast
I sleep in your state of mind
We are in-touch everyday like starch
Yet miss each other most time like lust

As closest as we are,love is near
I feel to sacrifice,but you doubt my conscience
Yet you wear my mark as close friend
Come on,am real,feel the expressions in my sentence

Deep down i know you are suffering
Yet you don’t see,because you are blind as a Bat is
Pardon me but love is like the pardoner’s prologue.
It elaborate further but maybe the pardoner will be no more.

You thought me how to share
But here you are rejecting what am sharing
My cri de caeur
And never want to award me an option

I understand you have a man
Who is sleeping in the sun as you think
But remember,the moon will be in post if it time r
Where will be the position of your man?

A lie has speed but truth has endurance
If i keep saying the truth,i may lie
Because then,all my feelings will be outside
So what more can i say?i will just shut up.

LIVE IT OR LEAVE IT

It your life,live it.
Live it how you pleases.
Never live it how they pleases.
They not worth even your feaces.
She not worth even your kisses.
The rhythm not worth your lyrics.
The sky shouldn’t be your limit.
You have sacrifice your life to be a phoenix.
Ignore those critics philippic.
Don’t back slide or fall in sordid.
Prove them real;you don’t gimmick.
You have fought with soul and spirit.
You deserve more “innit”.
So righteously live it,how he pleases.
But if you live it how they please it,
You worth not living.It better you leave it.
So live it or leave it.

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LOST

Good to bad and bad to good.
The world overturn in harshly loom.
Lies clouds innocence like head mushroom.
And leaves truth in writhe,
because we greed for power and other wish.

We show no respect for the calvary blood.
And make his white cloak define dirt.
Dine and dance in Noah’s flood.
Kill with words in the book and smile when blood cry loud.
In the church we have sex

Despise the first book of pentateuch.
And believe we evolved rather than created.
The verses in filthy use.
play with satan and bath in holy water.
Nothing of pauls’ related.

Are we going to hit our skulls on the stony walls?,
whiles we know it will never fall.
Or wear booths and walk in mud
to greener land.

Would we bath in sin if we pay death dept?

SONNET 118

Pact of two conjugal different species
to enjoy and conquor stress
from the penis to the womb;Milky feaces
As to summon it;to drink a mothers liquid breast
As it arrives,cry first as a bless
Heaven sings,A blessing more than riches
Tis in the book.Tis a human duties
and also to redress.We address
But tis not duty to a spinster.
As the book say.
Others think another way,
and serve it on satisfaction.some for lucre;A sister.
With it values hanging under their faith
Tis rare most in africa.Tis habitual away.

COMING OUT

Bursting out of exile
Of a century,worn out remorseless as textile
Of help,so as rejected
Most rigid,fair disrespected

Passion almost cremated
Still burning though
Wont raise my hands,not defeated
Brave heart,am fighting home

Should i fall?prayers with my genus
Destituted on i,is them behalf
Speedy digestion,waste is now on anus
As it demands

I see home,so i handle my swords tight
Alone i stand,the sun stand still
For on it way is a thousand chariots
Home is near.Im not loosing this fight
For have long waited to be Sharlot.

Am coming…
Am coming out!!!

FREEWAY

On this road of many race,
some crush and fall as the journey unfolds
No moses for direction,
but heaven reach out undirectly to those uncold

destiny is it own
each human,each home
sense of humour.Act of glamour
anxiety makes others swallow privation
precaution over perception.
For labelled cowards
To them;must a natural education

There is a superior to seek
if winning the race
For we all may not complete
prioritize the trust of heaven
To succeed

different act of worship
yet the man reigns,he ears
All afliction of the soul and hands anxious believers.

It a freeway
But let your way be a relief

SORRY

For All those times,i disguisedly cared
Left you whole;what was farewell?
Cheated on you to kiss another girl.
Gave you swords instead of pearls.

Fed you insults,
made you appreciate rotten flowers.
Made sugar bitter,so as salt.
You loved.We were not lovers.
Fake smiled at you,postpond hugs.

Created mud at the shore,
and made the sea dark as a lake.
Thought you of;a one eye,all of day
gave happiness to ignoble whorl.
That drowned me in dolour

Now..!!
I have no life in the night.
I feel so dark in the light.
Am depressed in my smile.
And wander as an isle

With this disordered feeling,
and tattered shame.
I do believe in the pride of Forgiveness.
And i plea for a rescue.
Through my nostalgia.
For am dearly sorry

BOX WELL

You alone in that ring,
With a brother anxious to remove you.
Neither you nor him befriended each other.
Brother box well.

People fall like leaves during spring time.
And it winter,so you can’t fall.
Inhale braveness,exale fear.
My friend box well.

He want to take you down.
He is throwing hard punches.
Relax and vision.
Hit that ‘ouch’!
Box well.

You can’t give up the medal.
It might lead to your ragamuffin state.
Everybody was brought to live well.
No one deserves flop
So brother box well.

 

BROKEN GLASS

Here I stand with destiny rebuked
Thoughts full of disputes
Dreams splashed because
What I laboured beared no friut
The garden kept no flower
And in the den was no daniel
After my dream was seduced
Truth of my ego cower
I should be climbing the tower
Instead climbing this staircase
My wishes now stagnant
My present not cosy
My success was to be pregnant
Now it lossy
It fell of. It slipped from my hands
Now it broken and cannot be restored
Single in this place,I cannot recall
Doubt the path home so I will just walk

I.L.M of CLAUDIA

Of a woman under my heir
Birthed a loving niece to me;us
Whom love alone deserved but cursed And kidnapped by Mighty rest

With sorrows drowning my spirit
And her memories fizzling my thoughts
I do miss her and will always
Until I migrate to be Late.
To see her,stay and return not,
For I clay.

At a fateful day,I cared less
You disappeared to rest
I not know the ensued
You had just gone.No goodbyes
To the grounds,beneath dust.
There comes “when at first”.

Fed me with cedi notes,
When my stomach draws anarchy
And I have Not.
Corn I chew and water flow
Through the pipes of the neck.
This Unforgetfully!!

Oh!!The little Queen claud is gone
I Hail long live.
The maker,The king: grants you rest.
And keep your soul in a sound sleep.
And your heart away from cruel beeps
For I build your monument in my heart
I will continue to weep!!

TO HIS ADMIRER

Love goes and comes
But when I see you
Love rolls and pounds
My heart crushes and spam
For you are the corpse I stabbed

The beauty of a calm beast
Dark in colour and white in speech
Of a good heart swollen row
And passion strong as a troll
You I seek

A special part of the me do
The one beneath my chest
So I off-rest just to carry undo
Just to get your mind voting me
your heart on my hit list
And not sex
I want to sleep under your breast
And drink the liquid from your chest
As a baby drinks at first
For A passion,nay chess

With a great treasure to share
Of a Most pleasure I fear
To loose you,I can’t bare
days are running of a length
And I’m in speed of the quest

Give me what I seek
And let me act you a guy
An eternal company nay philander
You I want to remember

COMPOSED ON BUSUMAKORA AVE

At this time of the day.
Majority rest in an artificial condo.
For they have stressfully  persue a task,regardless of a type.
And want no intrudence.

At this time of the day.
Of a few,passing by and now heading towards their know.
With their steps quarelling with the ground,
And song all filling their mouth.

At this time of the day.
With vehicles gently disturbing the
silence of the atmosphere.
And the weather so cooling for a hot thought,
Thinking tomorrow.

At this time of the day.
Where birds are already dreaming.
Where mice are partying with meals
preserved for tomorrow and,
cats jumping here and there at glances,
at corners and roof slates.

At this time of the day.
Thus;When the sky is grey.
And light from artificial sources,
makes the street bright in the frame.
so beautiful !

Nature ! A beautiful creation,
that’s exceed the work of natural species.
For its owner made it perfect and simple.
For its owner is powerful,perfect and simple.

IN YOUR PRISON

In your prison
Yet I did no wrong
In your jail
Feeling lonely and warm

With no harm,I’m locked up
And jailer don’t give ear to plea
Like a todler,can’t stand up
To defend my self of this attack
So I stay dirty,cause I can’t clean

A feeling of prestige,can’t lie
to free my self of this captive Life
For I’m life-locked if you bail me
Without planting my quest.the seed

When will the pay day be?
Question,I feel uneasy asking
For am locked up,disgraced wid honour as king
In your prison,I will be to call you my queen.
You can set me free

Treat me as a leveret.but make me toil
For this seed,is still in the soil.
As complicated as coil.I want to stay
And even if it rain,I still make hay

CAMPANILE

I stand tall like it.you see me well
Very silent unless you struck my bell
Ding dong!I rang,deaf can’t hear
But sees my bell moving here and there

I stand tall alone! yet see you not when you pass
Don’t speak but talk before the messenger set
Humble but goes wild when there’s a call
I’m not a stranger!

Whenever I loose of,I’m restored
A city’s treausre in the middle
Robbers pass-by,but never want me
Because I’m a special messanger to the people
Though I’m abondened!

SOLD

Lad full of dreams;wanting reality
Pushes with hardwork and faith
Dismisses arena of knowledge out of native cruelty
But carefull as blindman on roof slates.

Skittish he is,thought’s sky highed
Dreams winning and carried shoulder highed-some day
Smiles all siting on his face
Victory!soon to be history he embrace

Its a dream!a dream it was
Recovers.stood up and start’s a walk
Thinks of himself:mean tunnel been through
Mind dis-set,thinks of scotching
Unfortunately of his adour still floating

Dreams to be reality he hoped
Through bad states he couldn’t cope
Few coins he sold,his dreams untold
To a person unknown.

What should he have done?

RAW REALISM 6

A mild orange greyish skies magnimously eluding the absinthe in the heart of the city when it is superfluously applauded by subsequent apprehending of the colorful incidents in nature to which i envision above Ordokor Accra.
Sometimes I love Ghana !!!!

[Photo by – Danny cudjoe]

written by piikae

Gone…Goodbye

Waves crashed against the shore..
Tears with rain mingled in puddles on the floor.
Hair plastered to her face.. her dress clinging to her skin… she didnt even notice as the cold seeped in.
Wrapped in thoughts so painful she walked right past her door…. walked down to the water edge crashing on the shore….
As she waited for the waves to wash her pain out to sea..
She whispered oh so softly… ‘im just tired of being me… tired of pretending everythings fine… tired of trying to fake a smile all the time…”
The waves danced around her broken form..
Ice filled her veins as the cold, her body embalmed…
She no longer cried her tears of pain anymore.. frozen n still she fell to the floor.. she was lost, she was lonely all she’d needed was a friend.. but there was no one upon who she could depend..
She whispered softly one last time. ‘im tired of being me, im sorry but goodbye‘….

[Photo – Elsie Asmah]
[Written – Becca Aidoo]
[Edited – chillzgh]

A journey through

Writing has become a very delicate art and an underwear that instill hope and cover up my boredom with the aid of inspiring my artistic know -how and the weight of passion in relating to humor and experienced views i propose to the world.
It has been my friend I hug since from my first understanding of a sentence till date.
Although I nearly lost passion due to laziness in my “busy for nothing” spell,where I barely write or read to nourish my artistic desire.

Some years back I wrote at home and it stayed in the house dwelling in my book hidden under my bed with no one having the slightest idea of what I could do with a pen in my hand and a book either on a table,bed or on my lap until a friend;I never thought could have the same talent showed me his writings when I visited his house – Blay.

I was amazed with how he could use words to flirt with imaginations to render a special artistic information to subdue the heart with joy in whoever going to spy through those conjunctions.He was just like me,I told my self in awe.
“Although I had forgotten that we all rapped instrumentals with imaginary vivid expression which were strong to those who didnt want to understand art,but weak intellectualy to persons with that ‘sort of gap’.We were hailed back then,so if he could write rap,how couldn’t he write poems?”

Blay and I talked about it.About blogging our pieces but we couldn’t start then because we didn’t have any idea on how its going to be like..
Then I met Dawn on twitter.She posted a poem she had writtens’ URL that naturally summoned my interest to read.I read it over and over because I couldn’t just stop liking it.Wow we really have great writers in this world after the Shakespeare’s and the Chaucer’s,I told myself….
Then I took to twitter and started friending her.I told her about my passion and she recommended that I create an account on ‘WordPress’ and start blogging.Immediately I did so;I posted what I had written in my book long ago and she was the first to like and comment.Then I told Blay too– who also did so immediately as it was something we all had wanted to do long before.

Well from then,I have had over 50 post including poems,articles,quotes,and images with 52 followers,1,179 views and 22 comments.Although the comments are not enough and it is motivating me to write more sensitive stuffs to win the heart of my readers.

 

written by piikae

The Dusty foot philosopher

written by piikae

Protected: Quote 6

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Quote 5

Just as treasures are uncovered from
the earth, so virtue appears from
good deeds, and wisdom appears
from a pure and peaceful mind. To
walk safely through the maze of
human life, one needs the light of
wisdom and the guidance of virtue.
                [ By: Buddha ]

Gold in my pocket

Lady Fi

The rising sun

Causes the autumn leaves

To glow with golden honey.

They look like

Delicious lemon lanterns

Lighting the way to the moody clouds —

And those vibrant reflections

Remind me to live exuberantly from dream to bright dream

Just like autumn does.

For more golden moments, please visit: Skywatch.

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Air Travel and the Ebola Circus.

The JetHead Blog

Air Travel and the Ebola Circus.

“If we couldn’t laugh we would all go insane.” –Jimmy Buffet

Government leaders are frantic to do something, anything, to assuage concern about the potential spread of Ebola. But air travel is neither the problem nor the solution.

Nonetheless, the government answer is, as in so many crises, that even doing a useless thing is better than doing nothing. So we now have “increased screening” at several airports, including JFK. But the problem is, the Ebola patient who died recently in Dallas arrived from Brussels, while the increased screening targets passengers arriving from Liberia, Sierra Leonne, and Guinea. One connection later, as in his case, the possibility of detection is beyond the “new” screening.

Meanwhile, no mention is made of special screening of international arrivals in Los Angeles, San Francisco and Seattle, all of which have seaports and airports with regular international arrivals from Europe…

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Portrait

The Boy Poet

Oil and canvas
captured the wending trail
following the curvature of
her cheeks
the tears masking her beauty
looked down from the wall.
The room
a blandly empty background
devoid of emotion
a reflection of a memory
long since gone.
In the contrast of paint
emptiness and sadness churned
in Art Deco simplicity
named ‘Heartbreak’.
I stood in awe
in the silence of a modern polished floor
and wondered
what made such beauty cry?

© JG Farmer 2014

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Mytwosentences 77

Mytwosentences

She stretched outwardly above the mirror to get a better view of the prismatic vivid visage that was now ablaze upon her colorful autumnal torso.
She admired the growth of her glorious gown which gleamed with snazzy seasonal sequins, and found herself captivated by the flaring foliage of her rhythmic reflection.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

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