Africa and the Curse of Religion

Listen to the sound

Coming from the back

All the way at the end

Singular, repeated

Growing, hovering

Pulsating through the shadows

Seeping back into my mind

Shapes and hexes

Demons and ghouls

Angels and jinns

All scrummaging this plain

Cut wings,

fallen through the cracks

down onto this vivid reality


one can never escape


I seek the truth


Every corner I turn

I fall victim

Drowned by the shrieking

Bullets stuck on black skin

Time refusing to move

Stretched out years

Compressed into parallels and seconds

Smiles from the shadow men

Shinning boots on red soil

stop me from going into the forest

Closed my eyes and

I find myself in the center of cathedrals

gods that don’t move my core

Full time job pretending my soul accepts

Time has moved

Frequencies hastened

Here I am

Chastened by old wrongs


Caught between a square

Green slime concoctions

Crosses and serpents

Faceless without my gods

12 seasons turned to one

Ancient spirits destroyed by another man’s summation

one leading nowhere

From the beginning

Only one sound I hear


In a land gifted with circles

Resurrection and rebirth

My soul only seeks redemption

Freedom in the deepest dark

That forest called evil by sailor tongues

There I must go

Returning, reverting

trace back

Foot prints on sand

Snails and cowries

My lane our lane

Paved in our own tongue

comes with rich tones and melodies

Reverberating throughout the land

Of the children under the sun and moon

Simple World: Random

Life keeps pushing further into the year. The sun is consistent. Are we? Humans inhabiting the earth. Are we consistent in keeping this earth from dying or are we consistent in destroying this very earth?

I have three animals within me: a sheep, a tiger and a demon. All three make me who I am. All I need to function as a full fleshed human. Every emotions I give to these three and they consume.


Like twisted arrow

I seek a reversal

Acting like new never made me better

In sync with the manic of nature

I act like I’m told

Watched my devil violin

Singing along, I caught myself


stop it!

Just saw my family tree

Just seen my spirit line

Made me smile

Made cry

Knowing my blood flowed

Like a twisted sense of humor

I know my creator watched me run in circle


Morning come

Money go



I had severe warnings

from childhood memories,

to the dealings of the world

Eyes bleeding

stoned by a friend

I had severe warnings

Money snatched

Tricked by another

Severe warnings

Life was singing to me

Calling in, ringing in

Refusing to listen

I plugged into aloof

Myself only

The world was me

Until it wasn’t

It is There

Write what you know

All that you learnt

You drop

Extra weight, unneeded

Now you are here

The lines don’t drag

I see lineage

In tongue, skin, dance

Leaves, water

Oral songs

passed through generations

Clear history

One never pondering

One accepting

Stretch out your hands

and keep going

Tabs of Life

Sometimes my browser gets clouded

With different artistic tabs

Computer slows down

Begging, that I may close these tabs

Then I think

Where would these tabs be?

If the artist refused to paint

Share a piece of mind

Bash a brick of wall

For all to see

And feel the moment

When those words flowed

Without hate, only real

So I say

Thanks to the tabs of life

Simple World

The water rose till the glass that held it in broke into smaller pieces. The current had exploded and those caught in the waves were left to curse their luck. The lucky ones stared hard, and without any reason they let loose of vile words and curses. They threw their offense at the wounded ones without an offer to help. “Why should we?” Some of them questioned. “These filthy souls asked for the dirt.”

So the pain again receives no answers. The turmoil most mirrors suffer; always receiving accusing stares from the unassuming onlooker. Out of body, without hesitation the particle of mind will find its source. Believe it or not, the same goes for those who wish to drink from the fountain others reject.

No money to ask for a date. The broke man will use the words of strength or the strength in words to reach the heart of the red star. Never question the moth who buzzes close to the flame without papers. The sign says out but the arrow puts inwards. Laziness might be a disease but hard-work is hardly infectious.

The walk of confidence shows discipline and the slash of an angry man shouts victorious. Remember, the soul will cry but the body will remain for a week or so. The demands of the hardly-working man causes the less-able to always stay in comfortability. No wrong, as long as your own way works.

The embrace from the screams of the never visited place called Venetian. The lung dries up from always saying what the bucket can handle. There! Nothing is left for this part, so onto another.

Coincidentally, the day came with full force; blazing bright. The flight to the top of the happy rhymes was rejected by those who feared the stars. The light all hope to find is in the darkness that most fear to live in. No one fears the cloud-dust up high, but we all fear the shadow, whose only desire is to reveal the unknown.

Though my dream ends here, I still have nightmares bright in the day. The advice is to go to that place where rejection came in abundance. Unlike what they say, the lessons in life is abundant and very unapparent. In darkness, we must first find that tunnel and then maybe later the light. And to think, life was so simple back then when peaches were extremely delicious.

My dreams though.

The life of a key master

The drop then liftoff

Hardened ground

The place none go to

The space in mind

The chair of peace

Alright and Calm

Accustomed to the descending height

The moment where the words flow

Like tears or merriness

The clicks of likes

The space of replies

You know

The crowd might be tightening


The smiles here are bright

Your zone of endearment