Tag Archives: blogging

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.

Lonely

Loneliness eats my confidence
Bite after bite
I reminisce the fulfilling times
I had with me
The journey in my house
Eyes closed
Mind loose
Traversing beyond boundaries
Mysteries demystified
Under carpets swept
And cobwebs removed from
Dark corners of my mind
I remember the empty stages
Epic performance
Just me Marley and me
Now the veil is torn
Normalcy is boring stiff
And loneliness won’t let me be!

Bread wars

She just wanted to live
A beautiful soul with nothing but love
Women strip for fame
But all she wanted was bread
A baby starved in a tin-roofed house
Friends and family weren’t close
As word went round
That gods sent their fire to destroy her
“Who stands in the way of gods?”
“Aren’t they the ones who give leprosy
To those who’ve sinned?”
Life goes on
She wonders what she owes the world
Isn’t it the same world that molested her?
That night darkness loomed
Creatures of the night feasted
On her innocence
And blood flowed
Taking in its wake
Her dignity
Weren’t they the same people who preached love?
Why do they serve hate?
Now she has to raise a child on her own
And still apologize to him for not knowing his father
This baby cries a lot
Where can she get bread?

Bad Ones

There comes a times when all you do backfires on you
When she keeps mum and hurts
And still blames you for not knowing her problem
When your hi sounds bye
And your laughter mocks her
And your love just hangs there
Waiting for her to be the girl you knew
And she drops you an sms
” you can never make me happy”
And you feel your balls melting under the weight of self-loathe
Your heart doesn’t respond, it’s dried
The only proof that it lives on is the fact that you’re still alive
Your patience reserve isn’t rich
But you try to give her space
And pray, that you will change
For you’re always the bad one

😒😒A Letter to the Living Dead😒😒

I have written before
But, I will write some more
My letters do reach you and I hope you’ll answer

My dearest husband, this isn’t the life we dreamt of, and that doesn’t cause me pain. What hurts me is that you created us and broke us when you sighted a virtual petite half your age.
I now live in permanent fear because I dread the question, what will I tell them when they begin asking about you?
Should I lie?

Or do I just make it clear that my thighs weren’t warm enough to bring you home? Will these children understand? Because I have seen the question in their eyes, it just remains unspoken.

Forgive me for not beginning with a greeting of any kind, for 9 years are too long and a lot have changed in this life and so are my priorities. This is a microwave age, you hit the spot, no dilly-dallying. Plus, wouldn’t greeting you unearth the beautiful memories I’ve buried in our backyard?

I don’t want to remember you, at least as the man I married. These memories are razors too sharp to cut, so they burn: all the dreams of our children, all the promises we made to them in the hospital, and all the longings of my heart for the man you were before short skirts short wired your brain.

I had seen it coming, the siren was loud enough to awaken the dead but it wasn’t loud enough to enlighten a fool in love. The nights were lonely and sleep was elusive, the nights you locked yourself in your study and wore your thick glasses and began your lessons, only for sexual noises to flood my room hours later.

And I would hear you unlocking the bedroom door and slink into my sheets, you’d spend the night moaning strange names and shit talking. It might have taken long but I knew the internet woman had taken my place in your loins.

And I hoped, prayed, and wrote letters to heaven to give me my husband back, but all the while you had gotten used to flawless thighs the world had to offer, albeit virtually.
I wasn’t a woman enough to satisfy your sexual needs, but d’you mean to say a motion picture is warmer than me? It would be different if you cheated with a living female, but I swallowed my pride and prayed some more for things to change.

Every night as I tucked my children, I hugged them tighter, and in every hug was a whispered prayer that they might have a taste of the man I married. The loving husband, the caring father and the foundation of our home but you were too busy making love to your virtual women to chorus the Hail Mary refrain.

The morning you left, I cried. It seemed like any other day but my intuition told me otherwise, deep down I knew there was no conference, but I still waited for the two weeks to elapse in the belief that you couldn’t desert your children. It’s now 9 years and the conference isn’t over yet.

I have heard rumours, of sworn affidavits and changed names. I have also heard rumours of short skirts and young women and late night diners, I was happy when I heard the latter for I knew you were learning to be a man again.

Just so you know, I haven’t been idle, shoot, I’ve got children to feed and school and though we were thrown into the streets like wild dogs, heavens opened its gates and ushered us in. I now have a job, my children are learning with white kids, perhaps they’re taught how to be men.

But wait?

Isn’t that ironical? That the same whites who taught my husband how not to be a man can teach my kids how to be men? I think I need a new school.

Certainly, I didn’t write this letter to tell you all this, what I want is simple. Meet your kids. Give them a chance of knowing how not to be a father.

Don’t ask how I got your address, I changed my name too. And it’s a small world. I’m so sorry I couldn’t approve your tender, my corporation only works with real humans. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
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Cold Fireplace

I see them rodents gnawing at my toenails
They have eaten everything
The granaries are dry
The fruit basket is empty
And the fireplace has gotten cold

Women have taken to silence
Their territories invaded
They gave them cooking pots
But stole everything to be cooked
They give by the day
They steal them by night

I see their flawed system
Of suppression and oppression
Our sweat nourish their bellies
While we chew at their empty promises
We aren’t men enough to pay rent
We aren’t men enough to pay school fees
So our kids we groom
To work in their plantations

It is slavery
Woven in peals of false brotherhood
White man criminalized blacks for skin color
Now it’s black killing black with hunger
In this food chain everything is flawed
The arrow no longer points at the eater
But still, the prey takes blame for being prey!
Such is the story of my country