Poetry: In The Jungle.

The sky is the ground
Wind is the sun
the grasses are birds
whispering love to mate with hate.

I have fed my will with visions of fury
scented with imperfect’ acolyte.
The desired path is laced with gory
Everything draws its strength from the night.

Headless mammals live in fear
they will be the signs of haunted ghosts.
Dear Solomon, through Adam my dear
bring back the ways of the driving coasts.

Blue is affiliated with pure hatred
especially when the rain ascends to the heaven
eyes also carry the words I bled
through a dozen minus the attire for eleven.

The sky is the ground
Wind is the sun
the grasses are birds
Only to survive in this jungle.



In the jungle I heard birds chirping
The sound irked me I almost had a feat
In the jungle the Lion kept roaring
Who is this prey with sexy tits?
In the jungle the grass suffered
When little Giants gathered, it became a meeting
In the jungle I saw many species
Predators and prey were never players
In the jungle I laid in my bamboo
Roasted red meat and purple tails
In the jungle I saw my African Tarzan
Covered me from hails and storms
Fed my dying thirst
Washed my filthy flirts
In the jungle I became the queen
I sent Tigers errands that were mean
Fetch me some diamonds, get me a solid green
I need a blue liquid, so I can buy more film
Fan my flames and wear my feathers
I lay in fur, I lay in weathers
With pierced ears and nose ring
I had my hair braided like the Sudan royals
In the jungle, I became the African queen

Rachel Charles


I see thick hairs braided as trees
Standing tall as walls
Ushering unknown faces to vague places
Pricking me into the jingles of the jungle.
Spinning my head in search of recognition.

I hear scary sounds of lullaby
From different perspectives of what the heavens am I doing here,
Reciting poems of how long it will take
To get back to the entrance

I feel the presence of untrustworthy atmosphere,
Devouring my pore with somber air
Relegating my confidence to
A greenish loud silence
Caressing ears of my imagination.

I smell cluster of deadly painters
With bone handled sharp brushes
Swimming in bloody colors
Frantically Painting scary pictures of fear
In the jungle of my mind.

Bang wan.


The rustles of dry leaves
The rattles of the tail of a snake
Both pretending to be one another
It is beautiful out here
But danger also lurks around here

Roses bloom, staring fixated at the sun
Help upright by stems of thorns
Like a drunk supported, on either sides, home
Beauty seems incomplete on its own
She is always a bait to hurt

All wild aims at me
All docile flees from me
I chase while being chased
I seem to repel beauty
And attract every beat

White blends perfectly into black
Truth and lies have a meeting point
Somewhere in the backyard of lies
All paths have grown thorns
I am dusting my boots


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