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He is not your husband Who undresses you before the alter And bid you follow the path of lust assuming love It is not the alter that determines a beginning, But the day of accord in heart and minds The alter is the public show of the hidden intentions. Do you find in her a talkative? An imposing personality, Rudeness, A high look, A presumptuous, Never listens, Never wrong, Never apologetic, Then, run. For she is not your wife if you are true at heart. Always requesting, But never delivers Intolerant, vindictive, spiteful. Like a brother of blood As was told in tales of our innocence, Not a good friend Never can be As pride and ego ruin faster than barrel So will arrogance distort. If he is a friend So true, A wife With fidelity A husband with commitment Let him in

Spell of a stranger

The sprout of momentary illusion,

the voyage of a derelict dream in place of a lie,

the lure of April, the deceit of May,

concertized in December,

in wintry snow, mocked,

miscarriages of a well worn organ,

the grin of February, suspended in September,

the burden of unconquered Lust,

the armies of censorial secret “bedders”,

begging for the abandoned rottenness on my path,

obsequious frenzy of the hasty oath at Ikoyi,

the stealthily lure of a defiled bed before the oath,

the desperation of “a wanna be” by crook,

hurried by the mascara

coated looks of a postponed dowried hariotery,

A bedfellow from the red zone, an unrepentant Gomer,

The armies of bias exes overwhelmed the gaze with suspicions,

compelling through diurnal and surreptitious escapades in dark corners,

allured by unfinished lust, to the city centre for a quickie,

And myriads of men hides in ambuscade save one,

with threats of kill for suspending their “off home” secret lush.

The public mistress unfit for their homes,

Yet suited for their Lust by turns .

she warmed our beds they say’

purloined for your Fall of a few days,

The bawd roamed unrestrained,

‘Don’t talk to me’ she says.

Unbridled concupiscence her forte,

forty plus years in the trade,

well versed in the art

The sneaky nights,

the secret calls,

the Stygian services, and countless gift of libidinous frivolities.

Yet their victim must remain mute,

as truly the drama unfolded ,

all appeal rebuffed by arrogance,

as they taunt with permissive perverse Laws

convinced on the first day.

Converse for four weeks,

conscripted in one week,

“conbedded” on arrival in same day,

Correction of a fool,

concluded at the Court.

Then in retrospect,

Delilah revived.

who art thou?

In this vast ocean of delinquent bawd,

loose malefactors stood in ambuscade.

to assuage the fiery zeal of pilgrims

through the path of the pits into the dungeon,

to quench the light of true life.

They allure through facade of a putrid clay,

and conceal the serpent in their thighs;

to seduce the Nazarites on a mission.

Oh Samson, “the philistines are upon thee”

though Delilah conspired with demons for this fall,

one from the camp, beckons a prey and the gang of marauders readily,

makes a mockery of true strength.

The enemy from the bedroom.

Puts a dagger in his heart assigned mandate of diabolos

Hell hath them many walking the earth disguised spirits in human flesh.

sapping strengths from precious souls.

squashing the destinies of valiant men.

at whose bidding dost thou fly?

Look around thee,

look within thee,

look above thee,

who art thou?

Into your arms Jesus let me fall

I have strayed into dark lonely nights

far from my loving Lord and God,

Your mercy oh Lord now i plead

A prodigal child seeking mercy

Oh father, into your arms Jesus let me fall.

As a lost sheep, in countless time spent in sin

i found nothing in the world but pain

Your mercy oh lord now i plead

in weariness my Lord seeking mercy oh father,

into your arms Jesus let me fall.

in shame i roam on lonely path

all the hope i sought was but a dross

what more can this world give so precious?

Hear my Plea, A lost child seeking mercy

Oh father, into your arms Jesus let me fall.

The paths of sinner is hard oh Lord

all the gains are too soon gone,

what more can this world take from me?

At thy feet , i return seeking mercy.

Oh father into your arms Jesus let me fall.

Before i cross this vale of Jordan

not the tears, no works oh Lord, not my prayers

But thy precious Blood my only hope ,

Cleanse thou me, thy mercy i now receive

oh father in your arms Jesus i have hope.

The Sin of my Coat

When I return from this conscious slavery, I will tell,

I will tell of a subjugation, the spite and silent disdain

I will tell of the avoidance and the exclusives space on public bus

I will tell of the common embarrassing quiz and the suspicious looks

I will tell of the erratic change of mind and the one ninety degrees turn for my sake

If I return, I will tell so many

 

If I return from this distance voyage from home, I will tell

I will tell how it is not over on their minds

The agelong differentiation, the battle of supremacy, the venom of little minds

I will tell of the pretence smile, the cynic look and the preference and denials

The tanning of my coat is my sin for they understand not my geography

 

If I return from this second deliberate offering of my will

I will tell of my endurance and restrain, the quietude of avoidance

The sighs, the pain of rejection, the mockery the selective treatment and all

Of empty pew in church because of my coat,

Yes. Even in church where they aught to know better

 

If I return someday, I will tell.

They are not all so, there are few. “The coats blinds”

The true lover though few, excuse the myriad of coat haters

When I return from this journey of discoveries of feelings

The long war of our diversity,

The silent unspoken lies of superiority

My coat is my sin, same blood runs in our veins

 

To my Seductress duchess

These, cacophony that beggar’s description

 

Disorder from indecent breed incubating,

 

Confusion of tongues, in lyrical hoax,

 

Filthily dressed to undress my mind,

 

Our teacher teaching theories of writs and wits

 

These promiscuous pastors parading piety with nudity

 

Lewd licentious and libidinous specie luring laurels with drama,  

 

These traditional priests tutoring the innocent as skilled orthodox guru

 

Folly forming and fuming fire on podium of cerebrals

 

These gangs of immoral breeds hovering over men with enthusiasm

 

Sick physician administering drugs on the ignorant,

 

These,   

 

Coup against Coleridge,

 

Wired Wordsworth,

 

Barron as Blakes

 

Shapeless Shakespeare,

 

With excessive deluxe paint like a red zone hawker,  

 

These fashions clogging the pump of poetic flow

 

With the garbs of a seductress

 

Allays my feet to the “gutter-most” pit of whores

 

These, who feigned folly as fashion forcing Mr. Flesh, to a quickie,

 

Teach me the lyric and lines and morals too

 

Inspire my curious heart in poetry and NOT the contours of shapeless show

 

Evoke in me a desire and arouse my intellect and NOT to lust

 

Induce me with scintillating lyrics and NOT to the nightmare and dreams of succubus  

 

Tempt my heart to scholastic loyalty and NOT to the apple of Eden

 

Conjure the parley of mutated minds with words

 

Come again to the conference in art and rags of skilled minds

 

I adjure you, be Natural

A Weired woman

she pips in fear for lateness like her peers,

hauteur cloaked with reticence,

her-boo-boo-vague, though walled around and palpable

official Narcissist disguised in rude affronts

Bravado of naughtiness in candor yet tacit

 

“Free me free me”, rants in melancholy

as  ignorance upsets sorts of sort

Insensibility of differentiate as angels often tastes the gall

By routines of cataract long glare

Sends nostalgia down their spines

 

Though forgetting the milk and candies of supposed rivals

Doubling as friends in conning angst beggarly in their nature

Nagging and ganging a gang of gossipers

Finding Mutual grounds for their victims

Causing higgledy where there exist no war

 

For a suspected compromise of morals

Or a hunting taint of a past paints on Z walls

Where decorum is not a schoolmaster

As official time wastes in visits to motels at un-break break time

With holy bible at desk view to mask hypocrisy

 

First venerable “Etis” Migrants tasted buds of vinegary as noised by witnessing chauffeur

And guilt cautioned not her thigh with avalanche of showy attire of a seductress

advertorials of “buried innocence”jagged in curved carbuncle front and back

Banging shoes in unending visits secreted in kitchen

 

double faced, loud calls to clients for managerial gratitude

as empty office fill vacuums of fast quickie (sharp-shap) appointments arranged or rearranged

Ill mannered, bad tempered not marriageable, never listen, never patient making enemies

Commandeering, verbose, self-conceited, presumptuous, stout and arrogant

Still on our minds

Over now, but still on the minds,

Leaving an imperishable vacuum

A deadly departure,

News like the hint of cosmic cruelty

I heard the curved timbers

Warped in the summer sun,

The rumors of their untimely death

Formed a rocky saliva in soured mouth

Remembering the clay, that covers their bodies

I fret.

Johnson is gone and Nelson followed

Entourage by unknown spirits

In the giddy days of self weaning,

The bars unblocked and they obeyed

With obsequious frenzy

Leaving us with memories of days gone bye

Our longings, as though watching a

Clear sweet juice freckled from sugar cane  and crushed

And a speechless astonishment of death unwanted

Stabbed through our hearts,

Like immersion into boiling water

These Lives spitted and gutted

And now, we hear echoes of nostalgia

Resounding the good days

Our memories left with voiceless wish

Of their peaceful rest

Over now, but still on our minds

My Vain search

Then I will show my power of love,

When I find my rib, resembling this that fits these joints

Like the star she blazons in nights so gloom,

Full of virtue, bounty worth in qualities

I shall hold her in bond,

Who brings the joy of life my way,

We shall finagle in friendship, illumined and cherished

Like true devoted pilgrims,

I shall spend my nights in verbiages and actions of adore

My enthralled eyes shall break sleep to satisfy her lust until dawn,

Come to me,

My twinkling star,

My terrestrial sun,

My duchess

Upon the alter of her beauty, I shall sacrifice my sea of melting pearls

I shall proclaim her to the jealousy of bystanders

And writer her emerald till my ink runs dry.

Her beauty imposed on street walls to shame shadows seeker

My love,

My rib,

This lost part of me,

Her faith is strengthen in our union

Her tears run with spongy eyes

Detesting a lone journey, she is somewhere looking out for me

To break this rocky eyes of arrogance with loving tears

Come to me my love,

Cease from wondering, chide me not away,

I shall take no repulse till my lap buries your back on my virgin bed

But I know, she will not come,

For none is fair, True, and worthy with true qualities

 

Women

Halt, halt,

Give them your hands, but NOT your heart,

For when they hover around you

You are an imminent carcass,

Loitering and flapping with the disposition of a butterfly and grasshopper combined

The sight of her should trigger alarum bell in every wise man,

They waste your time,

They waste your money,

Sup your energy and

get you into trouble.

Like a bubonic plague

Spreading devastating virus,

As a butterfly, pollinating

With the juice supped

They flutter away

Seeking other juicy flowers in the circle of moral doom

Men should never be hyped on chauvinistic egotism when they conquer women

For another trial may certify your demise

No wonder, they are called Women

For many are the woes of their men