crush this sadness and it forms a cloud
will it rain?
acid formed spittle, god is disgusted by my bother
so they ask for my faith
and i ask for their forgiveness
it later rains arrows,
is this not abuse?
to accept bad as my fault
and good as heaven’s blessings
cover my face in shame
for my lack of belief
god has said nothing about my loss
yet i make excuses for them
why are they not ashamed of their silence?
cheers to what you could be
pretty after a wild night
beautiful scenes in the morning
gardens in the places you lost hope and
your body hungover like flowers that grow out of wine bottles
so tonight, let’s drink to that
when it rains with the sun’s eyes fully (((open)))
mother says an elephant is in labour
i often think of the calves born in these moments
do they experience such miracles all their lives
lifetimes of the glorious ambience of water and light >>>
or was their origin and the bow of the rainbow
a picture of two truths in a frame
that [[[the world is beautiful and our existence could be ordinary]]]
after the fall of adam
god hid paradise somewhere
between my temple, heart, wrists and ankles
a puzzle for a man that doesn’t know his reflection
or a way around his sadness
when i finally got in,
angels gave me a new body for the burnt one
and a gown of praise for my ashes
i chant holy all day like other faithfuls
to worship the one who gives and takes away
and hides our happiness
as a garden guarded by flaming swords
what it means to breathe
in a country that is an efficient assassin
is to rehearse my final moments
after every kiss
after every fire
after every thing that made me feel alive,
i call together all my life and tell them
how we could have been a glorious day if
we were born in the morning
for to live and love in my time as a nigerian
is a life that begins after the sun sets
and is over when the night falls
after ada
god’s sun rises
behind a cloud of false witnesses
i am bent, stretched
because my
body wants the light
after brymo
i don't know a thing about dancing
to move to a dream so beautifully
without making a scene
and all the eyes on this earth trying to figure
what i am doing with my life
yet the sea and its wavering ambitions
is called beautiful
the fall and rise of water
the come and go of hope
nobody scolds it for its indecision to stay
but we blame the moon for the tides
the sea is over a billion years older than me
and still doesn't have it together
i dey fall, i dey rise
abeg, give me time and grace
