I met him
Locked eyes with him
He looked just like me
With a familiar smile
Except he had a skewed eyebrow
Like a pastor will wry at an erring member

I met him
Looking dissatisfied with his now
Like he slept with a fair weather forecast
But woke up to a hurricane
Looking less than he knows
Fade up with his status quo
Remorse glistening in his eyes
Like a suicidal with a loop round his neck.

I met him
Staring at me
Like a dreaded déjà vu
Without blinking

I met him
Locked eyes with him
Scolding my flaws
Sarcastically applauding my scores
I have met him
He is the mirrored reflection of this broken me. Tee2emm
I met a child some years ago.
He was calm, quiet, observant, keen.
No rush of words to fill the space,
Just eyes wide open soaking it in.

I met this child some down the road.
A wearied mile, a dazzling smile.
The words still few. The arms out wide.
And sweet desire for another’s smile.

In the fell swoop of company,
The child was lost and found.
I saw him fight to make a mark
That says “world, here am I.”

Then one dark day, dark morn, darkness
Fell and dusk claimed the land.
The child I knew was so no more.
Warm heart was stung with cold.

Oh, for a while, it was unseen.
There was no exhibit,
But that warm fire that burned within
Was missing from his eyes.

That day, I left my paid job and made the kid my work.
I followed him to church, to school,
To every where he walked.
I saw him develop a limp. I saw him pick the game

For hidden recess of the mind that none may walk into
He built a castle wall around and dug a castle moat.
He took on shrouds of words, talk, deeds to beg a passing glance.
And tossed out barbs from deep inside to say “World, here I am.” -Seun
The curse of the ancient quill
has found your carcass,
it has called your soul a mummy
but you have refused to accept that.
I have seen the sin deep in your eyes
it will never melt the cold of ice
especially the one between your chest.
A shadowed color walking in the dark
a noiseless music tuning in the pond.
Stray away, kid on the block
hiding amongst the flock.
An eagle buried in the feathers of a chicken,
a ‘misconcepted’ home broken into rooms
an elevator of doom
no rhymes about the doors
whether love is an arrangement of four.
You have not sat well on this chair
you have refused to wear the aching crown.
You have refused to celebrate your ceremony
You have lost your celibacy
You are not a stone
You are gold.
You are far fetched from a cloud
You are heaven.
Stop living in hell, stop purgatory from pouring
it’s tickles of pain in your pot of soup
drink not from the cup of the carpenter
here’s a chalice from the architect.
Drink up and BElieve YOUrself. – Rudolph Ruddapoet
Do not paint,
Pictures are frozen realities.
Do not say ‘hello’
Without the blink of a spy.
Do not create
When creations will die.
Do not protest,
Gases do asphyxiate.
Do not steal,
Stolen foods don’t satisfy.
Do not stone
If the glass house is your own.
Go for gold,
Silver and bronze don’t make rubbers.
Do not be a shadow,
You’d be back and forth
Do not be a mirror,
You’d reflect everyone.
Do not be an apple
Unless you fall far from the tree.
Do not swallow,
Even if it’s your pride.
Do not be a satellite
You’ll be trapped in gravity.
Do not go to heaven,
The angels never flirt.
Do not be a road,
Everyone will ride on you.
You, do not…! – Leon
I can afford to be selfish
But you are not rich enough
That is why this verse is free
It might take a thousand years
But this ant will climb that tree.

It was you who kept from drowning
You unshackled that living bondage
You saved you
You got out
You can get back in
And keep others out
You are the architect
Design everyone’s place
So you can have your space.

Easy for you to think
You don’t need mirrors
You know you
Maybe it’s time to crawl back
Into your old niche
You can revamp it
Or let it be, swamped
With old memories

But you are not all that
It’s up to you to be you
Don’t get tired of you
You can have all the time in the world
The world may not have time for you
Don’t misinterpret
I miss you!
Let’s read this again,
Live right again,
This, piece of Us, Rewrite, again.
I start with, I love YOU…
Then ask proper questions like,
What road to follow?
How to lead, to lead proper;
So that your significant other would learn and grow, become better.
Would know no other.
Mostly, it happens so,
Sometimes, it could be worse,
Or the worst may perhaps befall.
Let’s be true again,
Leave? not again!
This, piece of Us, Re-right again.
You can start with, I love YOU.
– Silvia
You who to me your heart was true
Good from the roots
I found your mind cool

You who I love for no reason at all
A fragment of desire combined with lust
My want and my need
My world indeed

Everyday since the first day
Till today I feel some type of way
Somebody said your name
Like an angel, I felt like you came

You who broke my heart by being sad
Only to gladden it to stupor when glad
You hold a part of my heart
A part I didn’t know existed, the gold part

You, my flesh and my blood
That day we’ll converse in a hug
Our eyes will cry a flood
You who’s the other pea in the pod

You who I will love until the end
Whether it is returned or appreciated
Your name will send my heart on a relay
Until forever and a day

You who I want to stab to sanity
Have your blood trickle away from insanity
Your flesh I want for lunch
Despite I got you like a hunch

Yes you!
Thank you!
I am going to love you!

The earth marveled at my cry
Yes me
Who responded to the request.
Was formed in the belly
With no imagination that I will be the greatest.
This smooth road I ply
Rough patches with critiques who let me down.
Stood back up, fighting the good fight of words.
Yes me
Who is part of words
Words part of me
See how I cut my pieces and feed the wordless, homeless, priceless.
Invaluable, I might not fit so much of these in your little minds.
Can it convey the black wealthy Poet of all time?
See, let’s head to white Street and tell them that we are not about weed.
We roll words and smoke piece.
Blast your minds like crack head, burnt stoner.
Hauwa is aware am speaking for her.
Yes me!
Unpredictable Queen.
What’s next up her sleeves.
Although the pen wishes it’s ink can be written on desperate papers.
To qualify her existence, it’s whole lot more.
Am a pentagon box, unfolding day by day
Am even amazed that I wrote this day, accept my humble pen. Am a royal gem
– Rachel Charles
In between every dawn to dusk
Exist the fate of men;
The merry that accompanies laughter,
And mourn triggered by a soul closed chapter.
I’ve never seen nature worry,
Nor its stomach shrink to hunger.
I’ve never heard the rains sorry,
Nor the sun prompt to anger.
I’ve never felt the air furry,
But its lips on skin pander.
I’ve never caught an eagle’s view blurry,
Nor a sparrow convicted of murder.
Life is complicatedly simple
Full of cries, laughter and dimple
If give before a take is legit,
How mount of times YOU took without a give? – Bamvi
You became the crowd
Threw stones at adulterous hearts

Separated from misdeed
Bubbling wine disvirgined your tongue

Pharisee of guilt
You hide under your robes of sham

You, your victims became your judge…

A distracted piece of clay

Molded into a fire burning breathing soul

You have had fair share of shades of pain

Paining hurt in white, making black seem so pretty

A greater merged mind divided into fragments

Inexperienced happiness isn’t it

It’s a higher pitch of intent sadness

You are non fictioned fiction

Another shade of my art. Hypermind


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