She was an angel
with no wings
a genius with no invention;
I believed all her babbles
for even though they made no sense
they were genuine and humble.

Despite how strong
our love seemed
the love teachers
couldn’t understand
how a man of my caliber
will fall for a retard;
but then again
they agreed love is a mystery
that only the heart understands.

With that understood
my love for her
waxed stronger
as she sent me
to higher heavens.

Have a pleasant week, you reading this!

Love is pure:

Zeal is strong:
so each time
your fragile heart
builds a wall
to prevent me
it spurs me on
to break those walls
and conquer.

Success is certain:
if determination
is mixed with
the right formula.
So each time
my love gushes
with no reciprocation,
it triggers the zeal
to want you more
which leaves me searching
for the key,
the right formula
to win you over.

Result is end product:
and I believe
I’ll get it right
with you in delight
to have me
as your shiny knight.

For You! :*

I threw my heart
on the highway
while watching the trucks
climb over it with speed;
splattering it everywhere
with no hope of repair.

I spat my heart
from my mouth
into the toilet sink
like mucus from a flu
and opened the tap to the end
to wash off every stain.

I gave my heart
to you wholeheartedly
with no insurance or whatsoever
only to watch you treat it
like each scene
in the verses above.

How I miss blogging regularly.

Here it bleeds fire
that burns a cavity in my soul
throwing my mind in disarray.
and my body
in an uneasy state.
But my brain comes to work
with a certain thought
about the phoenix;
reminding me of how
it must burn to be re-born.

With that as the last piece
to the puzzle,
I emerged from the ashes
of my failed past
knowing I leave nothing behind
as I take the next exit
to a new life.

From the east of despair
piles of broken hopes
that looked beyond repair
was fixed back into the scope.

Piles of broken hopes,
although looked redundant
was fixed back into the scope
for never was it considered insignificant.

Although looked redundant
faith held and stayed strong
for never was it considered insignificant
despite all seeming wrong.

Faith held and stayed strong
above all the night’s crises
despite all seeming wrong
today a new sun rises.

My first attempt at a Pantoum. Inspired by Mair.

James on the other hand, being a pompous bloke, couldn’t bring his head from the clouds with the sensation his date was causing. He walked majestically towards the table they’d reserved, grabbed a sit for her and one for himself, and ordered the waiter.

Michael, seated at a corner in the same bar, had been staring at her since they both came in; monitoring her every move and plotting a coup. A chronic womanizer, he never lets anything on skirt pass without making a move. He was also quite victorious from his records.

In trying to impress, James had ordered several bottles of champagne on their table and was popping them randomly, attracting more eyes on them. He was a material boy and loved to flaunt his riches. Glasses got emptied and refilled until the alcohol began to take its toll; starting by ordering Kate to the wash room.

Michael who had been patiently waiting didn’t lose sight of the opportunity to talk to her alone. He quickly followed up and positioned at the entrance of the washroom, waiting for her to be through. On stepping out, she heard a deep masculine voice nicely say ‘hey’. She turned around and beheld the charming smile of Michael. Of course he was handsome and almost irresistible. Minutes later, he was saving her number on his iPhone while she walked back to her table as if ignorant of the brief dialogue that just happened minutes earlier at the entrance of the washroom.

James took her home that night with the satisfaction a man gets from a successful date, probably hoping to build on it, but he was to be proven wrong as the next weekend she was out again, this time with Michael. Although Michael himself felt like a smooth criminal, little did he know she changes them like clothes.

Revised for Poetry Picnic. This is pure fiction, btw.

The Perfect Poet Award.

on a voyage to the east

oh! how I’ll miss him.

Written for Bluebell Book’s Short Story Slam.

We plan not so we occupy our time with something
but so we have a framework of things to do.

We work not because it’s mandatory
but because we are determined and we must work to prove it.

We achieve not because it is written in the stars
but because we dream, plan and work towards it.

Just to get a kiss,
my penis triggered my senses
to go all the way
even if leading you astray.

Even if leading you astray
by blowing your mind away,
my penis didn’t mind
and my brain wanted to unwind.

It was my penis
that inspired this
and now it’s in bliss
while your heart shatters in pieces.

Written for Gooseberry garden’s theme, ‘the kiss’. Cheers to all the Muslims as they end Ramadan. 

I cast my eyes
on open fields
and let my mind sail away
to a world
where unity is a country
and selflessness its citizens

I cast my thoughts
on my myself
and let my actions do the talking
so tomorrow
all my visions
shall become a reality.

Written for Bluebell books’ short story slam and dedicated to the victims of the bomb blast that dampened Abuja, Nigeria yesterday (26th August 2011). May the afflicted find peace and light!

was you and me

like Adam and Eve

somewhere in the garden

laying naked

fondling on green grass

with so much sunshine

but friendly on the skin.

Birds chirping

flowers blooming

butterflies perching,

life is good.

You whisper nice things

I chuckle,

I whisper sweet things

you blush.

Just the two of us

in the garden

like Adam and Eve,

in the beginning.

Written for Gooseberry Garden’s theme ‘Adam and Eve.’

I’m adding a new event on this Blog where I’ll be hosting talented People and their skills, other than Writers and Poets. The event will be dubbed ‘LordEmmanuel Presents’. More details will follow, subsequently.

“Build Your Dreams”

Fly away,
young Eagle soar
far from the Eyrie
of your parents
to distant places
where skyscrapers
are door-mats
and the moon
an illuminated bubble.
Tour the sky
while daylight still abound
with no limit
to where you can go.
Fly away
Young Eagle soar,
go build the dreams
you longed wings for
The sky is never the limit
if and only if
you fly!

Shout out to Jingle. TPR still standing strong!

“Judge Me not”

For I know my sins and the taste of my tears,
The weakness of skin and the shape of my fears
No one knows me more than the mirror on my wall
And the eyes that see even my darkest dreams
So I care nothing for your spits and fury
For I stand before ME as judge and jury
Well aware of all I’ve done and all I’ve failed to do

You cast the stones that stain your hand
But how can you break what’s full of dirt and sand
I alone bear the burden of my broken wings
And I make no pretense of its dragging weight
So don’t you dare judge me
Or persecute my deeds unjustly
For I have myself to cast the verdict.

Thank You for stopping by and reading!