Poetry: Mischief

Halloween Pumpkin

The appealing hand of a thief
Grappling, teething, breaking, noise
Abuse in a garment, a conceited choice.
Contempt in the mouth of grief.
That flows like water, a solid fluid.
Bowing to peeve, bending stiff.

Not all who hear will tend to bear
Or act as if to dare
The strings we tie may break to tear
And drop knees without care.

The cause, i ignore. The source, i abhor.
…and that was not my intention
The teacup cupped just a little too much
With the steam too hot to heat.

So if we hurt, and yes we will
The toes of feet we know unknown
Grace denied is prayer still
As mischief is a cloak on its own.



I’ll flicker into your mind
Swim through your thoughts
Meddle with tiny nerves
Spark fires of desires
Crush seeds of annoyance
I am eager to plant my aura,
In places they’ll sprout love
Let me peekaboo in your mind’s eye
Crawl into your bosom
Rest my crazy head deep in your settled waters
Make a fuss about your calm ways
Pinch your exciting soul
Make jest of your sentiments
Ask questions only lunatics can answer
While you tame the play in me…

Omolola J.


My sinister shadowed night
hiding the grains of darkness.
I greet your ready eyes
reading light in total blackness.

This is forever your charm
rolled to tethered tongues.
The misfits tips, steeping quick,
the hellos in this fading music.

The ground bears to seed
and homes to death.
Holds gravity’s lifetime
yet anchors one’s fall.

Let down your guard and forth through
Fight with the female chief they missed.
She’s swift with words and swords
they will tear hearts and break your flesh.

Aloha time, in peace sleep
to the waking of kisses done with cock-crowing.
Aloha my heart, fiend myself
let not thy burden hold to soul.



Miss Chief was bound by no surprise other than to surprise.
When her monsters charge
The lies begin to roll.
Everything was a game;
The very hope of her name.
But miss wore her pride in a chiefly way.
When the ground shifts, she heaves.
Her heart follows the wind.
Pearly eyes made the heavens dot.
Yellow skin made the lilies gasp.
She loved three men and treated them the same
Till they all brought a ring .
That this beauty should be tamed.
Stars glinted in her eyes.
Smiles lingered in crooked corners.
Missy took off on a run.
To a town that no one knows.



A young rebel
Who traded sorrow for fame
His soul being brought to tame
By occultic nays and says

A young rebel
Needed the dollars with naira cloak
Laying in lazy sheets
Roses became a withered bouquet
Little by little he cuddled the spirit of Cain

A young rebel
Not up to thirty, yet a warring beast
His folks salute him in sad plea

A young rebel
The city served him an exile dish
He crawled in the jungle to seek justice
What was in wait for him was jungle justice

A young rebel…

Rachel Charles

Click Next To Continue Reading This Post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

About us

Everything you’ll find in our literature are products of our thoughts, experiences and challenges. Search for a theme that interests you, read and tell us what you think about it.



Latest posts

May 16, 2023
February 12, 2023
February 12, 2023