Twisted

 I gave it to you, 

Raw and red, broken and torn

For it was so hard to find someone who 

Liked chess

And talked books

You laughed at it

Mocked at it

"I was sowing where I didn't reap"

I waited for you

To see beyond the glare of the eyes

And the words that spoke vile and bike

But you were the words 

And you were the bile

And you were bile

So I took it back, broken and torn

And soothed it up with the balm of words and deeds and the breeze of life

And I forgot your words

And your eyes

And I loved and I showed what I reap

Adieu bitter one, 

Life is mine as well

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ibrahim Indimi was at CAN Centre and Dalori IDP_Camps

Image
Son of Borno Billionaire, Ibrahim Indimi was at CAN Centre and Dalori IDP_Camps to graciously offer humanitarian assistance to some vulnerable IDPs, he was accompanied by Grema Terab, Abba Sec Maina Yusuf Galtimari and Babagana Abatcha. The visit just comes after his brother Ahmed's wedding to Zahra Buhari over the weekend. Ibrahim_Indimi, who stated that, he has been concerned by the plight of his IDP brothers and Sisters, distributed Blankets, Sweaters and Cash to a good number of IDPs out of the little from his pocket. Grema_Terab commended Ibrahim Indimi for his timely and laudable efforts. He further seized the opportunity to call on other sons and daughters of Borno to emulate Ibrahim Indimi and to lend their voice to the IDPs in order to ensure the desired attention towards them. The IDPs expressed their gratitude for the kind gesture and collectively prayed for the peace and prosperity of Borno.
Read more

Ennui

Listlessness settles upon me like a stubborn fly, only the Quest will settle its wanton touch, Conformity, comfortability and rest wring my neck like a strangler, my mind is restless and listless and will not be content to wander about with the mudane and the ordinary
Read more

Rizpah

  You stare at the fallen in unspeakable grief, and recall the first steps, the tiny hug, the baby smell all the little details a mother knows beneath the terebinth tree oh Rizpah, the pleasure of all eyes the delight of Saul in his prime what have you become? fighting birds of prey and jackals as they stalk the decaying  flesh of your flesh... Amoni was the quiet one,  Mephibosheth the witty one, who laughed even in sadness Here they lay eyes agape in unspeakable horror, hung like thieves Saul would gather them in the small of his arms, and they, beauties to behold would giggle in delight Rizpah, your existence is that of demented reality and excruciating dreams in the middle of insanity The Jackals have come again, aiming to savour the carcasses of your decaying sons,  I stand weakened by hunger and sorrow, and shoo them away again. God of Israel,  take this pain away 
Read more