Identity

Identity

At first, I knew who I was
But as the times passed on, I became ashamed of who I am
My mother is Chinese, My father is a Nigerian
Who is a Chinese? Who is a Nigerian? And What am I?
I can sense you feel my predicament by now
I don’t know what to call myself

Monsters in the dark

Monsters in the dark

Whenever the lights were put out
I suffered an insanity bout;
I was thrown in a claustrophobic frenzy
as if giant walls were collapsing all over me,
I shivered like a hen in the rain
as my nerves sent poisons to my brain,
then every draft of air stung like an asp
and could well have been hell’s very gasp.

My one and only

My one and only

I loved her before I met her
She was older but it didn’t seem to matter
I yearned for her to love me
But it seems her love had gone on a journey

I loved her when I met her
my eyes opened to view the world of her beauty
At that point I was overwhelmed with feeling
Nothing more perfect, the ignorance of not knowing

FAVOURITE-BOOK DILEMMA (and then some)

FAVOURITE-BOOK DILEMMA (and then some)

My writing and reading (reading and writing) have ‘suffered’.  Everything I have posted here in this young and prestigious literary website for naija youngsters (and oldsters) are select “refreshing archives” got from my storage of literary works.  When I first saw NS advertised on FB, I thought to myself: Why not? Try it!  I had … Continue reading FAVOURITE-BOOK DILEMMA (and then some)

My True Love

My True Love

When I was a girl I believed in True love.
I anticipated that feeling of butterflies in your tummy.
I dreamed of my first kiss! how it would feel.
I saw my future through innocent eyes

True love did exist and she was beautiful.
She asked for only one thing from a person: Your heart.
she kept it tucked at her breasts and warmed it with her blood.
she truly was beautiful.

Dozing on Awolowo Road

Dozing on Awolowo Road

Every day I go to work on the bus with the other sleepers, workers whose days begin early, whose commutes are long. We sleep when we can. Some people complain about their working conditions. Some swear never to return to their offices again. But the next day we are up together before the sun. Look, there, even the bank executive sleeps in the back of his car while his driver faces down Lagos for him, like our driver who faces Lagos for us. For family. For nation. For love. For love, we are up for work before the sun.

Trance

Trance

It was a dream
It was not a dream
But it was a clear trance
And I shall write it down

From outside, it kept coming
Jarring from a metallic symphony
Of mangled notes, tones
Pace and lyrics into my cell

Ask Questions

Ask Questions

The wondrous gifts tells a story
A story of beauties unmasked not looked
Many may have heard it in history
But the truth is hidden in parchments

It was like a framework, nothing bought
The laughter of men and beasts
It was as the beauty of the garden caught
But not all see the hands behind

The Nun Is A Virgin

The Nun Is A Virgin

Smile so hidden between the lines of the forehead,
Fading and musical dimples behind shy shells,
I see pillows in your pupils;
My desires pour as a landslide of emotions
Rushing down into the sacs of my arrowed pulsations;
You are my son’s teacher,
A nun beneath the kindergarten umbrella of a convent;