Uyi – Page 8 – SIMPLE WORLD

Within Myself

I see the devil

My own creation

That’s why I cry myself to laughter

Then sleep

Reflection and Reintroduction

Three Kings

Of different ages

Lineage stretching back to Anoha

No chains

No adages

No cowries

Streamed down by oral droplets

Spoken through mountain peaks

Through ridges and wide spaces

Marks, Spears, hair twisting

Fire, feet warming

Circle, from top of huts

Into cell molecules

Souls transfused through sight

Off beat, Offbeat

One and one

One plus two

One snap, pause

Then another

Three Kings

Stretching past the Nile

Blue necks, blue hair

Different centre

Same spirit

All three Searching for one answer

Her reply to their quest

..Like I said

The day I stopped writing

I put my heart on pause

Bleeding profusely

no sight of visible red

Bourbons, Demons and Depression

Losing my head

It seems to have fallen off

Time warps so fast

I find myself in tomorrow

Standing on today

My mind reliving the past

The cold, my anthem

The chills, lullaby

Eyes, cross

red and lights

a peer, a peek

they look at me

following my steps

in a room

deep in the wild

scars, memories

mixed

with anger

fills my heart

a box

all corners

I jump to find air

Oh!

Gasp

pressure

I can’t lie

These days

I feel the pressure more

The weight, the anvil

On my soul

Bare, burdened

My brain clogged

Calling for help

Through

words on a blue wall

Losing the wheels of life

Steering straight

at a blank

Senses fading

Exhaust filling my lungs

Summer detaching

I can’t lie

All I need is green in color

Serenity in actuality

Love in physicality

All I need is an escape

Away from my mind

Nazarick’s Will

Up the top,

I rise up

Like babel,

Tongue tied

I deserve the glory

All the money

Pockets and monopoly

I drink from the same cup

Sex wrapped around my neck

Wearing diamonds, untucked

Green, green

Pressed down,

Dilated

Pills through the sewers

Pouring

Until my muscles tighten

Sometimes
I hear the car horn in the distance
Monotone with my heart beat
Catching rhythm
Loosening the knots
By the edge of rocks
I hear the knuckle
The against
The rubbing
Then the fire
Sometimes
Early in the morning
I hear the lonesome driver
Heading somewhere
Speeding in the badly lit street
Never fearful of what might come
The burning of tire
Screeching, hydroplaning
Then skidding
Into black
Sometimes
I see myself
My skin pores tense
Holding onto worry
Eyes staring at the screen
My hands relaying the workings of my insides
Waiting for the next tap
Waiting for the next line
Waiting till I can finally….

Melting

In the dead of winter,

my insides

keep burning

In the white ash,

my demons shrieking

Valley Down

The idea of my blackness only sunk in when I landed at the Dallas International Airport. The summer humidity was first to welcome me. It was unbelievable, stepping out from the air conditioned lobby into the bare intense heat. It felt like the melting heat was tugging at my skin, reminding, sucking away any trace of bodily fluid. This was different from the northern sun of Kaduna I was used to. This was the in your face type of sin in a way mirroring much of the attitude I was to receive later on.