Slay queens? Please! It is 2020, but these ones still don’t know seduction is an art? They think it is by pouting like hungry ducks on Instagram, standing like paraplegics in Facebook photos, twerking on Twitter, or mooning all day with gele of leaves, dog ears, and dangling tongues on Snapchat. Who will tell them, that there is more to making a man pant for your attention than painting your face like a traditional mask? Who will tell them, that…
Photo Credits – Google If the wind calls, Let go of your anchor, And surf the clouds. If the ocean whispers your name, Venture into the deep, And follow the waves. Just remember, As you roam your dreams, That home is where love lives, Always, forever and a day.
Time was, when the hardest thing I had to do all day was sit and lounge with a tall glass of warm, bright-red blood in my hand, or lie on my stomach on a mat of beaten bones, getting my hide beautifully tanned by the golden flames of Hell’s grate, while my legion of demons took care of business down on Earth. Being Lucifer used to be so easy, but not now, not anymore. Circumstances have changed, for the worse,…
Picture Credits – Google Hope, The most abundant of a Nigerian’s possessions, Heck, it is the only thing many have. Hope, For better days, And a new life devoid of pain. Hope is our food, It is our wonder cure, A cheap panacea for ailments all. Hope is our narcotic, A buffer from troublesome reality, The wind that lifts far above walls limiting, The strength that pushes us beyond incredible odds, And the hefty lead ball, That keeps us shackled…
Where the sun is fluffy at noon, And the breeze whispers a swoon, Where the moon is a magic lamp, And stars wink a merry smile, Where genies roam the forests, And the surf breaks in sonnets. I want to leave the noise behind, Go far from the madness of this town, And find someplace new, Where people are human, The good life is not a mirage, And love is not a curse.
Photo Credits – Google. When you finally arrive home, After surviving the perils of dark paths, To aid those who still journey, Don’t forget, To leave a light on.
I’ve lost my hunger, But my soul craves fulfillment, These legs want to run, Yet the chase seems so pointless, My heels stay stuck in place, The rut I’m in, It smells and comforts like home, But something tells me it’s not, And my thoughts are restless, Yearning for the open road, My throat is parched, My tongue misses the sting of blood, But all I feel capable of, Is to waste away in the summer sun. Who will believe…
Photo credits Google Hey you, how’re you doing? It’s been a bit, yes? How’s life treating you these days? I hope you’re doing much better than me when it comes to surfing the rough winds that characterize living around these parts. Every day births another challenge, be it political, security or economical. One can only hope for grace to thrive in spite of everything. Do daydreams still hold the same attraction for you? Are you still the outrageously cheeky mouse…
Picture credits – Google Clueless defines, Men in billions, With rampant dongs, Who implictly trust, “The harder you thrust…” Twould shock, Many a bed ‘god’, How sweet she (s)creams, From the deeper reach, Of a pinkie’s tip.