Poetry: In Memory of Libya Again!

I’ve heard stories that churned my insides Of poverty, war, lips and limbs maimed Of a city where a head had a price The sun and moon set not for the wise Sky, covered in red, green and black...

Nobody wants Nothing

all i’ll want you to do for both of us is to be a light be to us a candle burn slow, with humility protect the hearts of light and fluid don’t melt and drip and die on me care less about...

In that order

the subjects are broken for they regret electing a king who can’t rule his own home one would have thought kings are fed with happenings so they digest his home – a mess; the kingdom too...

Hear it as you please

all I might have hated about myself I read on people’s lips, eyes and their gestures all what a man should not be I saw in people’s daily lives all of who I am and I’m not...

A little Prayer

A Dying World, lost in Smoke-filled screenplays Ploys, plots of darkness Celestial congestion Political disaster Hell preaching saints and saviour Save yourself from this messiness, Merciless tongue...

Monday

wake! wake up reality checks on Monday when the desk is filled with nothing to do or everything can’t get enough of themselves so they bother you but there’s little to do when there’s nothing to do...

It’s in all of these

darkness lies in their light so they wander in frail emotions to them, every word is a wave of the sword they wear their eyes a lens of choices and adorn their lips with sentiments their ears choose...