haikus for him [#1-3]

1. forgotten:

hours spent writing
poems you will never read &
you'll ask: "who is she?"

2. notes to self:

(un) don't stalk facebook
(deux) he prefers her, toujours
(trois) no "tengas sed"

3. born again?

with your disconcern

you break through bible covers
and pierce my façade

invisible

In between her and I you stand and

Never turn my way. To pull at my heartstrings was your

Vice. & my life became a tool in your art. In her shadow

I

Stand clothed in

Insecurities thrust upon me by your

Belligerent speech,

Lying your way into her likings to

Ease into my scene and re-paint me as you'd like.

part 2 of "a restless reaction"

i re-awoke distressed
(with thoughts restless,
moving as
a fallen leaf
windblown on concrete for miles on
end) -
remembering the
"hey whats going on?"
you dealt to melt my exterior
as it fell to the concrete
swept away by the autumn breeze
with the morning's fallen leaves.

i can still feel the rhythm of your heart
beating against my
cheek,
fighting me
with memories
of what used to be.

my corpse lays cold:
a used cloth
covered with prints of
your hands on top of me,
imperfect lips pressed against my neck reminding me
how i thought we could be
one.

the shape of your lips
indented into my neck
takes me back to that one summer night spent
crashing into one other
caroncarlike
ingredients spun into a
blender
hoping we might
come together
as one
all over again
as you promised.

and i wait patiently
knowing [high key] that we were never really meant to be.

ephesians 4:29

"do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs. that it may benefit those who listen."

About Me:

an entire Thanksgiving meal attempted to compress into Gladware
His imagination was too large.

He nursed His paintbrush in His
left hand.
onto the 1990 canvas He painted
two trees as one.
entangled roots dropped the fruit of an
abstract piece of art envisioned, created, and admired by God.

I remain.

the rape of a nation

[october 1st marks nigeria's 49th year of independence...as proud as i am to rep the green and white, i wish i had more of a reason to celebrate. happy 49th, nigeria. may the next years bring you growth and development.]



she was a strong african woman in each and every way
till one day
she was forced to bend over
and comply to the demands of the man
who chose to take over...
t-t-t-twisting and turning her body
like silly putty
in the hands of a toddler to fit the mold he created for that moment.

he used his power to force his manliness
inside each crevice,
stripping her native clothing
exposing
succulent hips kept to birth to
generations.

denied.

for in his eyes he was
god
and enforced damnation:
ejaculation of millions of
possibilities
to forever ruin her life,
creating years of struggle and strife
because he had power
and she was naive

and that was the rape of my country.

49 years later
she lays trapped in an endeavor to make herself better
mentally.

holding on by dear life
boxing against
internal strife,
she fights with herself consistently.

i hope one day i can
grab the wrists of the fists she uses against her
so none of this will occur
in the future.
"arise o compatriots, nigeria's call obey"
and with each and every day
i pray that we
as a nation
could reunite and save her from herself.

i pray.

a restless reaction [part 1]

[i wrote this over the summer. i've been tweaking it little by little & i intend on writing a part 2 eventually...]


i awoke distressed,
with thoughts restless,
moving as
a fallen leaf
windblown on concrete for miles on
end.

my body remains clothed with invisible hand prints
left by your caress the night prior.
i can't ignore the space left in my bed that you filled,
growing greater as minutes multiply,
setting miles between me and comfort
while remembering how our voices would meet, waltz, and
echo off the empty walls surrounding me,
currently encompassing me in this solitary state of being.

you once reminded me that sleep was the cousin of
death -
so you stayed awake to snap branches off this family tree,
living every moment testing me and
determining what you could get away with.
like a curious child by the tree on christmas eve you
envisioned what you couldn't see
while our hands played a game of bumper cars,
pushing and shoving,
playfully touching
cuz we couldn't get closer without us colliding,
combining into one new being
- a mango on a summer day craved yet solid green, i wasn't quite ready.



i remember one night spent glancing down at your hands,
rubbing one against my own,
two frictionless beings drenched in
sweat like middle school children on their first date,
hands gliding across my body like ice skates on a frozen pond on a winter morning.
i pressed your hand into my own,
gazing at the tip of your fingers towering over mine,
screaming promises of safety down to the ground below me.

the black of night poured into the colors of sunrise,
mixed as watercolor pastels on an unclean brush led back to canvas.
5 AM construction continued outside my window,
beating the concrete paths of the windblown leaves of fall pasts.
the birds rehearsed their daily symphony
and you remained next to me,
arm resting heavily on top of me,
promises embedded in me.


we'll see...

(first [love) is blind]

“do you love yourself?”

shackled by her shattered swagger

she replied: “I love him.”

I watched them to see this beast perceive her vulnerability

and use it wisely.

he

stole her hand

freely.

naivety

led thee

to plummet speedily

and he

gave her all she thought she ever needed.

a youngin,

she craved his attention.

her body tingled as he shared his “affection.”

rose tinted glasses smashed in

shocking her into solemnity

by splattering her body solely with the blood of his love -

kissing her face with his fist

and her skin with his scratch whenever she screwed up.

a trainer, he trained her to obey.

to be his girl, she’d do everything his way

and play

like it was all good in the hood

if he could love her the way she imagined her first love would.

alive in the eyes

he raised his voice when sick of the hand

stating each of his demands as a

Man.

it was a roller-coaster of interaction:

words built up

to watch her fall

pushing her down

so she could give it up to him -

slaying her conscience within.

feeding off his syllables

every lie became a parable presenting his “love.”

she held on to this contact.

sharp syntax intact piercing into her existence

and in an instant she choked on an “I love you”.

a foreign taste,

the first time she had someone to say it to.

his heart hung ruthlessssss but with a kisssss spoke

“I love you too.”

lies laced with licentious intentions.

to her, he was all she’d ever need

but to him she was just another screw in a toolbox of opportunities.

he knew exactly what he was doing.

a rolling stone one night he rolled on.

Mother Nature saw it coming all along.

a master creating disaster

he carved her ego into the plaster he traveled on.

he left her bare, her future unaware

but she’s still too in love with him to care.

[this was written as a performance piece, hence it comes off weird on paper (or in this case, typed on a blog)]

Back to the drawing board...

yesterday I lost my pencil case SOMEWHERE on this campus [the university of illinois, for those who were unaware].

inside of the pencil case were my two flash drives.

saved on these flash drives were almost every poem that I have written since about junior year of high school [I am currently a sophomore in college, again for those who were unaware]

chances of me finding this pencil case: slim.


alas, this is my attempt to start anew. stay tuned.