Time and Patience

Time is the only person capable of understanding how valuable love is

With love works patience and with time we grow, heal and learn to wait.

She maybe destined for another, but my love for her will not fade, my patience sunk deeper in the sands of time..

But for now the only thing I could do for her was leave..


My love

my breath,
why you love me so,
So gently you ponder my heart,
Heart full of pain and anguish,
Anguish brought fourth by lack of love,
Love spawn to be the epitome of everything,
Everything we claim to like and cherish,
Cherish what seems to be perfect,
Perfect yet blind to unravel love,
Love why do you hate me so,
So gently you came tapping
Tapping at my chamber door,
A door without a proper key,
Key to love
Missing everything we did together,
Together we were called the blind lovers,
Lovers never together,
Together befallen for unexpressed love.



Once bound no longer free,
Love no one but me,
Colour your soul with my name,
Move along-alone with me,
The town is warm and beautiful
It’s Sea looks red and deeper than love can be..
My eyes were caught staring,
So i took pictures of myself in the heart of this town,
So every man would notice i was once there before,
I bet this town will not forget the stone i was,
Known as the Long barrel with no handles,
Handles with no feelings,
Feelings to love and handle pain,
No one will grapple on to my heart
Regardless the beauty,
No soul, no heart, no being can move this stone i am.
A rock, a block, a fountain raised above its ego,
I will not retract from the path i chose,
My picture was left in florence town,
Now no more,
I’m taking all there is thats mine,
My picture face, my long barrel,
I’m taking the candy along with me too.
Have a nice day



Empty jars are rarely filled 

The sun dusk till the stars fade 

 Not everyone lives alone 

For an island is nay surrounded by water 

Something you wish to have 

 Runs away supposedly 

 Who are you now without  him/ her 

A mere fool allegedly 

A loney a fony maybe a pony 

 Sorry you will never get horny 

Live alone by far lonely soul.


Deep In the eyes of the beholder beauty hinges underneath its shoulder

 No heights nor faints,

Mere bodies  covered by slick  colors, 

But to them i say;

 Color not our moves today,

Make us love but never hate the art we display,

Whether be darker or shaka 

What ever it may,


Bleech my skin if you wish to see me  smile every now and then,

How do you lable my life with all these colours around,

Brown, black and white be so blind to judge who i am.

Was i born like this or meant to act like this,

I’m tired having to behold all these colors around my nerves,

Can’t we just conclude and unravel before it swerves. 

People are people and colors must be colors,

Why do you call us by the colors we wear,

Would you wish we sunk in fear,

I’m tired of having been called by the color that can’t eat, breath, bath or sleep.

I’m moving forward and waking up from this sleep.

Take me along my skin weeps in tears of shame,

Nothing but these fingers of yours to blame,

You point your finger at me forgetting  we are ONLY HUMANS.







Is no different from a man believing he understands a woman wholly 

This is not one of those  poems

I rhyme to perfect

I bet  this one is  different

Get the wisdom as i visualize to pen this 

A woman is complicated not because she’s fragile but agile 

A woman is complicated cause her taste is nay different from nay her looks 

Ask my Co-mex 

Who got bound  by what he perceived than what he really got 

In the end 

A womans heart is judged so big yet immune to what it falls for, 

I’m guessing immunity isn’t the perfect word afterall 

delicacy does it 

A woman’s heart is fragile true 

But never take advantage of it 

Far from it 

Take pictures of yourself lamenting upon disappointing her soul  

All  a woman needs from you is responsibility 

Believe me you wont persuade a woman if you are irresponsible

Or less caring

A woman is complicated

For her choices are incomprehensible

Not an easy bone to break past her motives and instincts 

Shes all caring and loving

On the pretext of you learning what she wants and desire in her heart at the right time,

A man would love a woman without a proper condition

But a woman would only love a man on the principle of responsibility..

Need I say more


Once I’m Obsessed by the glaring motion on her face,
still, no volcanic hills obstruct my obsession,
mere synthetic thrills deny my emotions
you think I’m bound? “no!”
least I exclaim in dread rage,
everything looks red in color while I sink in danger.
this heart beats a second before Halloween clocks good morning and linger.
is this love I feel each time I rhyme with her name.
I choose not to bow my knee,
late alone let life breath in a new dew.
her face flows in essence,
sometimes I wonder whether
I’m bound in Italy or merely lost in Florence,
thinking about it makes me sleepless hitherto nights I slept walking,
her fragrance enslaves her cloth,
how then could a mortal man escape her flow of smell.
bound despite being tall,
bound despite being a man of stone,
these letters seem not to respect a man of my caliber.
this small town seems not to fear what’s near.
this short small town seems not to fear heights if only we could study hearts instead of study minds,
We would then realize that Florence is just a town within me.


In the bed we lie down
the cold finds no rest
We unfold our blankets before we place our heads on the pillow’s breast
Good friends wish us goodnight
The stars light up in fear of the dark but still
we sleep believing God is with us
In the bed we lie down each time we wish to dream
No other realm ignites our souls
Except for the lights in the skies
Born we before nights virginity

we delved into realms of slumber upon midnight’s cry,
And still,
our heads bow before the pillow’s breast.
We lie in bed to rest believing God awakes us Every morning…

Heart of a broken butterfly

The indigo complexion of an oaf 

her merry eyes gaze flowers falling off, 

Pretty hard to catch up her feelings  in a Weepy day.

The loner  moans emptiness an adage in hay, 

Her wings spread a color 

Not many a spectrum parlor 

In we go but a minute she leaves 

Painting a sad face upon pinning her sleeves, 

Beautiful creatures singing to awake her love 

Please spare not her heart all above, 

She’s sick of love than wine, 

Pour it all out from the thorax to her abdomen, let merry intertwine.

Until then her wings impede 

Flying through the flurries broken pieces 

of hurt and sorrow for no price is paid.. 

The indigo complexion of an oaf, 

her merry eyes gaze the flowers falling off😔

Will she fly ever again, 

Only God knows wether death is her gain..😔 


Black is magic

The hour came
for the beholder to glimpse at
my skin
Black as pitch i came into this world
I portrayed the nest of the dark continent
born from the african womb
Coiled to the African tribe
maybe the walls of the uterus
were lubricated with coal
to why maybe i am this dark
or maybe alas night time struck the fallopian tubes
ere fertilization couldn’t have been any better in the dim
maybe just perhaps
I would have atleast been born white or coloured if the lights ere
turned on
night time ruled my path for many and many a year,
sparkled by a wrinkled weeze
I urge you see past my skin
melanin is dripping
Can you see melanin
without my skin !
If chlorophyll was any better than thee Melanin please !
why not we human beings been
green rather black !
the slick questions asked
while the other one yerns back at my melanin
i live in a world
dominated by black shoes
suit and tie around my modules
but in my heart tears of shame and discrimination disconnects every good thoughts i gather for my own self-esteem,
Black is not an oblivion neither an illusion black is luck
Black is the pictures we paint to describe natures beauty
Call me crazy
black are the daughters proud of who they are
not a symbol of shame
black is the mirror displaying wealth and fortune
reminiscent brightly Goldy like bulbs are meant to shine and look best beautiful in dark rooms..not so !
stars are merely seen at night not so !
when you go to bed before you close your eyes you see the moon
glowing and beguiling the skies from your bedroom Window not so!!!
black is magic it gives us the night
whimsical for rest and fervent dreams in our immortal state .
Black is magic
It has taught me the value of culture and how i can relate to
beauty’s existence
its swings like the pendulum so watch out for the ebony bird patched with beautiful black feathers to kiss your cheeks at bed time
or the black rooster clocking your good mornings at five
And the dark raven delievering your daily mails -isnt this all
Dear you are born black and beautiful
Make it shine for the whole world to see its magic ..
magic is you being proud of mother Africa and availing its prime
step up never be deprived by the color of your skin .
Dont you know there is power underneath it 
the power lies in you believing you were designed for a purpose
and that is magic..