The sapling in my head withers from heat and I radiate its fatal fever- the way bodies are so hot and then cold. Sometimes the mind’s heat versifies and at times it overwhelms one with a need to turn all things cold.

Current state of our Nation – divided – racism, politics, economy, crime – you’ve got your opinion, and I’ve got mine, but respect for each of our freedoms seems to have gone by the wayside. If Uncle Sam gazed into the mirror, his reflection would…

Why is my crown so garish, With spikes and thorns and so, My face rotting and disintegrating, My eyes the colour of blood. Why am I dressed in capes, And long gowns kissing the floor, The grey faded and old, A rusty scythe in my…

Holiday in December -Poem 10   I am originally from Nigeria Born in the UK to Nigerian Parents Who met in London in 1960. I am married to a Nigerian But I am British born with Dual Nationality   We went to Nigeria for Xmas…

Normal  Family -Poem Seven   Love has been the norm of my family Love has kept us together as one family   Love has made us stronger as one We portray a backbone as one We may need to learn new ways begun   Working…

When I rise from the ashes just a box of matches With flames on my lashes Thingsll be better no more scars no more gashes Flying along while somebody bashes Everything I’ve said Everything I’ve done But I’ve won Haven’t I? That’s just it They’re…

Too long I’ve lived inside the noise, the words, the doubts; I’ve been trampled down, and made to shrink beneath the sea of strife. My soul was lost, weighted by the expectations placed upon me, not just by others but also by myself, so all…

Poke poke Stick and stones Shake shake My still shoulder Pull pull Hair, clothes But I stir not To live is to move To not is to cease Diseased Sickly sweet odor Rotting flesh My flesh is perfect My skin flawless Not white, but alright….

Chasing The Sky Chasing clouds with bottled rain With hope still rising, it left a stain From bleeding colors of a bow With a promise of riches down below. The brush of clouds, fingerprints in sky Distinguished the patterns of another goodbye As wind shuffles…

My palms are too soft Too white. Eighteen years into life Yet they are like a newborn child’s, Devoid of any callouses No marks, no creases Save the life line and such. Haven’t I toiled? Am I a stranger to life’s pain? I know I…