Holding my sleep to ransom

Holding my sleep to ransom

Standing stakes pierce my bed from bottom

To prick me back to book lest I flinch

Though fees fly like finch

Draining daddy like cold dunes

My brain washed the future shallow

Mutilating my bones and my marrow

Maestro says I will lead tomorrow

Farther I go from my staked bed like an arrow

And sing my head not to red

Night to morning I have read

Not believing noise who thinks futile my toil

Hostage I am to lamp oil

Holding my sleep to ransom

I know him, future is handsome

Electioneering pregnanting our hope of change

That my hostage will be free again

The stake will leave alone my bed

And raindrops the fees for dad

And prove my captor not a dud.

 

 

Balance that teeter

Why the world with wasteful lights

By the sun, by the moon

At dusk dawn the noon.

 

Why the waters part their plights

By the lakes, by the seas

Gushing soil and gorging skies.

 

Why the poles break the flights

To the east, to the west

Up north and down south.

 

Why we walk seasons

From winter to summer

And spring us to autumn.

 

Why life elutes like filter

And keeps the balance that teeter

The mountains and valleys, its clipper.

 

Roses are cheap without swinks

Smiles are bleak without weeps

Who is god without beasts?

 

Who are you without me?

Beseeching war without frith

Luring love without bleaks

 

The sun at night

Cloaks as moonlight

Both eke the world they ignite

 

What is right?

If the world be wrong

Yet we can’t right without a wrong.

 

“X”

On a board painted with dancing figures

The heavens to the earth beseeched X

All fingers pointed at god’s eyes.

 

But I, ensconced in my breast hide

Aloof in a clueless haven skin

Chosen, of all, to reconnoiter X.

 

The last time heavens beseeched X

Dad was summoned to Olympus

And I was demoted umptieth.

 

That night, it rained like waterfall

Then I knew dad, ingenious a flagellator

My crime; blind to a seeing wall.

 

Now its winter and heaven has called

I stared at the board again, then again again

X displaced all over its face.

 

But me, brother is an X pert

Who is acclaimed parrot of the house

To whom is showered the love in a mist.

 

I pummeled heaven, face affixed

The task it asks needs an X-ray

My eyes are blind to cynosures.

 

Then I kneeled at the prodigal sun

Bare my back to the god of whips

Heard my heart, dance to his beats.

 

 

Outshine and Even Outstrip Your Master (two paragraphs)

I know Machiavelli said you should never outshine your master, but what does that even mean? Here, I guess your master is anyone you are in a dependent relationship with. Or perhaps anyone you often get favors from. I think the real rule should be; never let your master know that you are doing all you can to outshine him, especially if you are fully dependent in that relationship or if you are yourself up to nothing tangible.

But the ultimate feat is to outshine your master, by becoming a master yourself someday; unless you intend on being a slave forever. It might not be in a competing way, perhaps, many of us are in ourselves master-destined. And not wanting to outshine your master means having to apologize or feel remorse for your successes. It means that you should self-destruct. It means that you should endure or even inflict on yourself-mediocrity. Never apologize for your success; you are better than those that you are better than, and those that are better than you are better than you.

Virgin Sun

     I am wont to sleeping boy

Now the world wants men

My sheets smooth as coarse soil

Young adults must coil like rose.

 

Walking the altar with empty coffers

The world beheld solicitous lovers

After much wheedling and simpering

The books wide open for thrusts.

 

The book bagged a brood

Flurry hoopla ushered with coo

Under the warmth of an oak tree

I lurked the whistle of bill spree.

 

What was well one now bad two

The coquet smile now sour like lime

Now it preen upon me to pamper

And feed and fees and cerelac.

 

If to drive the dangerous path

And the brood not borne gold

If to chart the bale course

And he not a doctor of drugs or laws.

 

O virgin sun!

I know not whither you go

I know not whether the rain

Will whet your roof with kiwi fruits.

 

When you love you have lost

To wail, to whiff, to whimper

When you love you have won

Gardens of orchids and sweet peas.

 

 

 

Self Empowerment (Two Paragraphs)

The world is perhaps a two-way traffic. Things either fall in or fall out. I know right, that when things fall out, you will think it’s all the dark forces of all the planets that are in cahoots to pull you down and make your life miserable. I know also, that when things fall in, you will think its nature with all its comptness that has conspired to bring you bliss. You will find yourself asking, what have I done to deserve these????!!!

Since I realized this important principle of life, things really, have stopped to amaze me. I am perhaps at that fall out phase of life, I can’t be sure, because I don’t let it get into me anymore. I have, for all that whizzes towards me, responded so-so. I have been strong and indifferent at the same time. Falling in or falling out, the things of this life only make me stronger. And when thing get messy and I feel like the world is coming to an end, I don’t shit my pants off, or beg or cow to frights, nay! I let it go to my department of empowerment, and by God, I have never felt this strong! After all they say; what doesn’t kill us can only make us stronger.