Category Archives: #poetry

Bruises and clots

We will fight again tonight
Like we always do when liquor fills the receptacles of our souls
My spirits will be on vacation
With reason and gentleness as escorts
The love we’ve been weeding all these years will melt into blood under fumes of fury

Whose blood will it be?
I pray it be mine
The kitchen floor hasn’t regained its lustre
No more pints for you

I also pray the neighbours will mind our business
Save you from me
And me from the law
I hate fights
But I love make-up sex

I love how we grow tender with each other
Even before the bandages leave our wounds
In the midst of it all; the blood, the swearing, curses and regrets, remember I love you

In my own strange way

I love your sad moments and your happy days too
I love your torn lips, your bruised face, bloodshot eyes
I love your limping feet
For in these moments of darknes
When beauty vacates
Kindness grows
Generosity takes root
And we love more than the promise our looks sculpted

We will fight tonight baby
Let’s fight even harder tommorow for what shall remain of ourselves

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Fat

Hi, I’m Dorcas, I had lost my beauty to spare tyres, but only 2 months in this weight loss program, I lost 50 kilos, and I’ve got my beach body back!

Hi, I’m Titus and used to have a lot of belly fat that my doctor said was the sole cause of my erectile dysfunctions but only 2 months in this weight loss program, I lost 30 kilos and I can now hit that thing!

These are the lies they have used to mint billions and leave behind broken people in pursuit of illusionary beauty.

Beauty is a multifaceted phenomenon that can’t be defined by weight alone. In fact, the last time I checked beauty wasn’t synonymous to Slim!

You peg my worth on the sizes of my body parts and expect me to use it as collateral to buy acceptance.

The media is quick to give you statistics of people who die of obesity, but they can’t tell you how many of us die of self-hate because society didn’t accept as the way we are.

They’ll proudly present to you two people who lost weight massively but won’t tell you of the thousands of plus-sized people who’ve committed suicide because of the cyberbullies they paid.

They’ll lie to you that slim people are smarter but won’t tell you that the ‘fat’ kid that came last in class spent half the term at home for fear of being bullied!

Can’t you see, that this weight issue is a propaganda propagated by schemers who want you to make a contribution to the multi-billion weight loss industry they profit from!

And I hear curvy women complain of catcalls, we plus-sized women don’t get catcalled; we get insulted!

We have been called by degrading names; pumpum, momo, superdrum, drumset, I have lost my identity trying to find where I stopped being a human being.

The society with its unrealistic expectations of what a beautiful woman should be has changed me; I’m the master procrastinator. I have a hangman’s noose on my ceiling but every time I climbed the stool, the sun seemed beautiful, I have procrastinated suicide so many times that death itself is procrastinating taking me!

The truth is, I am not fat, I’m well built. I’m not fat, I’m just big in the right places.

I’m not fat; my personality is too big to be constricted in naked bone-frames. I’m not clumsy, I’m not lazy; I’m just too busy living my life to count calories!

The bible says that my body is the temple of God, you think I’m fat? No! I’ve just created more rooms for the angels!

I wasn’t made to impress

I won’t die of stress trying to fit in a cocktail dress, see, I’ve got enough meat for the wedding dress!

Don’t tell me I’m fat when God who owns the world hasn’t complained that I take more space than what he apportioned me.

I’m beautiful the way I am. Period. I don’t even know why I had to write this to prove that to you, when you spend your days on your knees praising how beautiful and wonderful God is! Don’t you know, He’s just like me!

Childhood Indulgence

The place we used to hide in is no longer a secret, they have discovered it and known the secrets it kept. Our beautiful moments flew when adulterous wives brought their men in; the charcoal notes stood the test of time—to tell tales of our childhood indulgence.

Love Pencil Art Wallpaper Pencil Art Hd Wallpaper

Deprived

I’m not ready, she said
You have to be, he replied
And that was final
She, left neck- deep into the mess
Chained to the ways of the land
The daughter of the lake
A man she has to take
Father’s choice
20 yrs was the age difference
She complained she had another
But gods had decided
And their will she had to obey
She had been fed enough
It was time she got disposed
An item of trade she was
And a herd of cattle was the price
Who cares:
If he loves her or not?
If her heart melts for another?
If he’ll treat her well or not?
If he had a functional engine or not?
She had to be married
To the man who’d lost sight
But still had insatiable appetite for tender flesh
The three-legged man whose backbone needed straightening
He smiles, he whispers seduction but all she thinks;
“Old man you need a mouthwash”
Who cares?
She’ll get used
A herd of cattle wasn’t a small price to pay

Atheist’s Argument

Out on a Tuesday night
Watching people worship the God of the Israelites, the God who punished Israelites for 40 yrs and bribed them with manna and quails to forget.
The same God who sent the Satan in the image of Snake to give the woman a rotten apple— the apple that ejected human race from luxuries of Eden.
The same God who destroyed those in Sodom and Gomorrah because they chose a YOLO lifestyle and melted Lot’s wife simply because she couldn’t control her reflexes
The same one who forced Jonah to go to Nineveh without even considering his approval and then planted a big fish to eat him half-half and leave vital parts heart, elbow, lungs and testicles …just imagine being alive in the fish’s intestines for days…ouch!
The same one who brought havoc on Job for no good reason—yet Job served him with all he had…I’m telling you about the same God who murdered the pharaohs, slaughtering innocent children, and women
I tell you, they had forgiven him…ooh what a good thing to be the lord—you’re the grand puppeteer.

pages in history

History is present
Troubling us with repeats of yesterday’s mayhem
Blood didn’t dry
And ground wasn’t barren
So seeds of hate sprouted
Watered by sycophancy and greed
What’s right isn’t profitable
What’s profitable isn’t right
Like freedom fighters who lost all while freeing the nation
We have been looted by those we paid to protect our wealth
And they’ve killed us for defending whats ours
Big cars they drive
Fuelled by our thin wallets
And soon they’ll back to shed more blood
For the gods they worship
The nation isn’t ours
We dont belong
We’re pawns on a chessboard
No life of our own
But just items of trade
And bargaining chip for political supremacy
So slavery isn’t dead
Just a page in history
Embeded on the present

But….

but
WTF you BUTT!

One of the transitions that break hearts,
Kills dreams and belittles everything
But emboldens incompleteness…

It was a delicious meal, BUT too much fat
She’s beautiful, BUT she’s got a small ass
He is very bright, BUT so hostile
He’s very talented, BUT damn broke
He earns a lot, BUT he’s mean
He loves a lot, BUT he loves the wrong people
……….Et cetera, et cetera………..
The last time my complement transited with a BUT…
I felt its end sour in my mouth before it was spoken
It’s worse when it comes from someone more broken
More desolate,
More beaten
Until you ask yourself who really needs a complement
So I ask can’t a sentence ever be complete without BUT?
Can’t we appreciate the good things
And make them bold enough
For others to see?