Smiles

She looks at me from a distance
Gives searching glances
As she blushes she smiles
I smile too,
No, not at her
But within

Is her smile really for me?
I await a moment
To feel the vibration
Of the nerves
All over my surface
Each like a real erection

I feel the twitch,
I assure myself to smile
As the power I pitch
Whenever next
She peeks.

Oh! I wonder whether she’ll smile
As she once did.

why blow a smoke ring
if we can not shed logic
in quest of abstract

I'm tired but my day won't end,
too much that isn't done.
I started this day yesterday,
laying down
but sleep won't come.
So many things are unattended
but I cannot even move,
the demands won't stop
on the bed I've dropped
maybe my mind will follow soon.

a shard heart
heres the bend
before the break
where the light
bright passes through

dont cut your fingers
as startled the thick
wind of a ravens wing
swoops overhead
and the shadow
obscures
and fear ignites
before exploding in wonder

just a small bead of blood
like ink for scribing
the tender point
like a flint blade

I'll write love Haikus
across your delicate
chest just below the
bow of clavicle

i.

Your lips wound me
with the beauty of your poems,
parchment-thin my heart
must always listen,
I do not know what comes over me,
even now
is it my shallow art?

The moon rising near the end of August banishes me
to the hinterland,
sea to sand,
we were destined to meet.

"There are better uses of time.", I protested
you said nothing
and left me
with
a killing frost.

ii.

Bar me not from gazing on
the form which sets my blood on fire
and has done so for many a year.
Don't reward my gaze with flippant ire
in attempt to quash growing desire.

That mirror you depend on so
only shows a flawed reflection.
It never shows what I behold
when I chance to look in your direction,
stealing a glance of near perfection.

One time
I tried to use krazy glue while assembling a model,
and it got lodged in between
my left thumb, and forefinger.

Another time,
some anonymous smart-ass said somehing to me,
and I couldn't for the life of me
think of anything at all, to come back with;

then, there were other times,
where I was but, ignored
and life just went on, and on without me
because, I was put on pepetual pause.

Run to the market
Buy some garri home
Here is the money
Take a sack along
The pot has some soup
Waiting for the garri
Three and twenty cups
For sweet smelling soup
Run to the market
Bring some garri home
Six cups of garri
Was all he could bring
What about the rest
Seventeen cups short

‘Where u bai de garri’?

There is a rage that dwells within me, white hot and flowing vibrant, living crimson through my burning veins.
I want to tear, to scream, to shout.
I want to get all of this anger--OUT! OUT! OUT!
--No, no, fury has no place within this broken body.
Sadness wells within me, swirling uncontrollably, whirling me down into its soft blue grip.
Gently, gently it overflows and tears begin to spill--down, down, down.
Tumbling over my skin, sliding across my lips.
No, no! Sadness does not belong near me.

Oh! Goddess of Peace
have mercy on the mortals
do save our souls