Poetry – Page 34 – SIMPLE WORLD

Chains Broken

Every step up that ladder seemed unattainable. The progress made so far was slow as it needed to be. Our thoughts were closer to pain than hope. Pain was easy to obtain. Pain required no formalities to settle into your place of rest; like an unwanted guest who refused to depart.
So I tried; again and again, on and on, I revved, but the clock refused to heed to my words. The wheels kept pushing forward; upward to somewhere that looked like heaven. So to the edge I step; a place where I had no choice but to move on.
Silence engulfs me
A deep sigh,
Back here, one last time
Then it begins
Forgetting pain and sweat, I run
My path gets more unclear by the day
But I preserve and scratch deep down
With my heart bleeding courage
I reached
I had come in last but nonetheless I had succeeded
To my own voice,
With precise clarity
I heard emptiness had fled away
Leaving behind a taste for survival

People of the Night

At this hour
Those without sleep, still search
The day was unsuccessful,
So they wait quietly in the night
Hopeful
Without any rightful mission in mind
While,
Some crave for sex in the darkness
Others crave for nothing in particular
Depriving themselves of sleep,
Only to lay down for a few hours,
And wake up miserable in the morning

Flow

In conflict, the love for friction

On soil, the seeds hold on tighter

On paper, the lies sink deeper

In all there is

Then or now

All can be saved

In mind, paint another dream

In soul, cry for another time

Uyi by the Crescent

Palm oil on my shirt

Okin biscuit in my pocket

On my way to school

Not a care in the world

I had forty Naira in my hands

A stroll on Zambia road

Barnawa shone bright in the morning

A White Gown

He is the light to her day

The laughter to her jokes

Her white knight in the dark

Her escape route

Her soldier in war

Her supernova

He was her peace of mind.

The man in her dreams

Primary Times

The clock strikes

The girls bite

Pinch and tease

Leaving their trademarks

Drama queens

In need of attention

Like always, I run

I run past them

Girls that bite

Some I dance with

A few I touch

The ring of the bell,

Then, it’s all over again

Deeply Played

The game of rags and black water

Higher and much lower they go

Always seeking the tops of this and that

Flapping their dirt to those who dare to look

Always holding on onto vane vanity

Don’t we all?

They fear the fear of death

The truth keeps on missing its mark

Idolized Decadence

Paths full with shattered dreams

A requiem for the elected rich

Misery for the mass

A new day, we must seek

A new day, we must pray

A new day, I must write

Sour Orange

I still wonder why you like the room lit so dim. I can hardly see you when you cry. If you let go of my grip, the scene of misery will last on forever. Hold on tighter. Drag my rags closer to your shattered chest. Pierce deep into my skin; pain always tasted so bittersweet. Our time lasted only till the sound of the bird.

A mockingbird, indeed

Too soon enough to begin, I guess?

With my taste buds gone sour, I shut off those twisted tunes and threw them deep into the skies; far away, where those spacemen could only dream of. A secret place you might know of. I never ever forgot about those long delusional days filled with gifted silence and much red.

Will I ever taste sweet again?

Too much sourness

Stop this or I might bleed out

Drowning in my own feelings

Looking up at the river-like sky

Oh great blue monster, cry down your own worries

So that I may drink and sink.

So they say you speak no more of me. I strived hard to wait for another word from your big egotistical book. I hoped to dream into the realization that it was never ever to begin.

Bombs I left untouched

Scattered there and here

Some by your place

Falling down

Your hair ever so bright

So they say you speak no more of me.

I strived and strived to begin at the beginning.

Always seeking, and never asking

So they say you speak no more of me

I say you talk shit