Tag Archives: poems of love

Maybe She Wants

I watched her fidget on the seat
Her thighs exposed
And her lips moist with seduction
And her eyes craving for below-belt adventures
She’s a girl who’ll be remembered
For her breasts; younger than dawn
She raises her bust exposing that cleavage
She’s savage
Biting her lower lip eliciting
Sensuous pleasures
Maybe she wants, maybe she doesn’t

The night was young,
The breasts were firm
And her mons wet and inviting
She shakes her thighs
Opening and closing
Ying yang
Ying yang
Maybe she wants, maybe she doesn’t

But I can’t wait anymore
Things are stiffening down here
The stiffest part of me is nodding in salute
So I’ve gotta indulge in this
Illicit pleasures
No guilt
I just wanna get some satisfaction
And calm my hormones
But,
Maybe be she wants, maybe she doesn’t

I pull her to my bed and she obeys
Clothes peeling
And hearts thumping
Up in here, shoot that deeper
Skin ravaging skin
And lip feasting on lip
The grip tightens
As dick bulges
And she scratches and uproots my locks
Suddenly she’s lost
In sexual euphoria
She trembles and takes breaths in fits
Silence…
Still, up in here, shoot that deeper
Moments later
“Thank you”, she said
So glad
That my erection lived long enough
To write the eulogy of her orgasm
On her lips…

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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

We’ll overcome

I have watched your face cringe
At the sight of me
I have heard you say you hate me
The nights have refused to go
Darkness blankets our lives
Suffocating us
In the depths of its palms
So all we do is fight,
Fighting ourselves
Because we’re too frightened
To step outside and face our tragedy

I have watched your doubts grow
Fuelled by absence of affection
In words I say
The black soot of doom
Encapsulated the promises I made
I couldn’t keep them anymore

We’ve morphed into new beings
Oblivious of what love means
Can’t we coexist even in hate?
This bull-matador affair
We’ll leave us bruised

I want to touch a part of you
The scariest parts you’ve always
Concealed with a fake smile
I want to feel them
These parts you’ve never introduced me to
They might as well love the stranger

My dear, can’t we stop worrying?
Whatever happens
Or fails to happen
We belong to us
We can weather the storm
And still be warm with love
There are still parts of me that ache
From prickles in every word you said
But, I still believe
That …
Miracles are wrapped in darkness

I need You

I need you
I need you like the desert needs rain
Like the breathless need air
Like the flowers need sunshine
I need from the first chapter
of my love story to the last

I want to hold your hands
Laugh at your jokes
walk by your side
tickle you every minute
Snuggle on the couch
Look into your eyes
Talk about everything
and kiss your lips every single day

Cheater’s Flesh for Vultures

Love Pencil Art Wallpaper Pencil Art Hd Wallpaper
I love you so much. So much that if this love died today, I would ask for your pair of hands.
We’d carry it to the crematorium and set it on fire. Dead love has no place in our lives. Our bones will be oozing with pus from slain promises and bruised trust.

With honesty; every ounce left of it, I will look in your eyes and confess that my heart loved you most. But, it is the ‘omnivorousness’ of the human heart that drifted my eyes from the single bird I had caged to the beautifully colored ones in the depths of the forest.

I would tell you of the nights I left a piece of my heart roasting in their barbecues and came home with painful scabs dried by a hot iron. I would also tell you of the hollowness this filled me with. The remorse I felt for having betrayed your trust.

I would tell you the truth. When I shed tears as you stitched my heart, it wasn’t because the anesthetics didn’t work; it’s because the gentleness with which you touched my wounds hurt me most. It was like poking the dying embers of my guilt and shame, making the fire too big for all the four chambers of my heart, still clogged with fragments of lies. My dear, you didn’t see tears, you saw steam of my evaporating inequities.

In the end, you’ll know I knew you tried to make me better. But hormones outweighed morals in my priority meter. He whose hormones do a shot for– slowly kills his own brain.

As the fire would burn, smoke will rise to the sky, sending a message to the creator that man had set apart what he’d put together. At this point, I will send a prayer for lightening to strike me, and God will not answer like he never does when I ask him for a contented heart. We’ll blame his grace.

I will then ask you, “Mercy, please stab me, kill me and spray my carcass with the ash of our love from the crematorium oven”.

Please don’t bury me. Feed me to birds of prey, Let my life be worth something. A cheater’s flesh is a hearty meal to starving vultures.

Please feed be to the birds of prey, give my death a purpose.

 

 

I lost my woman

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We’ll start over again and again
The black soot in your heart
Peeled to the last layer

We’ll reminisce the beginnings
Before love become sour
And a lover became a villain

Let’s cry over what we lost
And cry some more for what we kept
So many spices got us lost
As the wind threw the scent
In wrong directions

You wanted us to be the best
So you aped the TV woman
An ass like J-LO
And lips like Jolie

I knew I lost you
A bigger ass spurred your insecurities
As broad lips lied to you
That you needed better
More silicone
More collagen

Now, I lay with you here
My heart broken
My faith shaken
How could they spoil my African Woman?

Whom will you love?
The media or me?

For a Fallen Twin Brother

Hello, how are you? I’m curious. It’s not that I’m not concerned, but you see if you brought a sexually starved bachelor into a room full of naked women and dared to gauge the rise in testosterone and gastrin hormones, wouldn’t the highest be obvious? So is my curiosity. As you know, none of the people I hold dear that had departed ever came back to tell me how the land yonder is. These are miracles reserved for people of Lazarus’s privileges, you failed to qualify too but I would have loved to get a two way communication between us , brother what channel do we use, Prayer? No. If I prayed in conversation with a dead brother I might be termed a devil worshiper; there’s a notion that people who die turn to ghost and devils, the latter is more common. The penalty for conversing with a devil, my pastor says, is eternal fires of hell.
Irrespective, I’ll tell you a few things about this world you left unduly. Here nothing is easy, there are metrics that we found already set, not that the bars they set for us were too high that we couldn’t meet but it just makes no sense to force Lionel Messi to hit the bull’s eye when the game of darts doesn’t involve the use of feet. Particularly, it hasn’t been cool with me, I have been branded names. Brother, we would have shared these names if you were here, believe me there’s nothing as weighty as a demeaning brand. It blankets your self-esteem and floors your confidence and before you know it you’ll remain an indoor mouse that complains of all he lacks but is too ashamed to step out of the door and look for all he needs. Brother, I’m ashamed to say that I have been this mouse, everything about my existence has a dark side. I knew this because everything good I did always had a diversion.
When every conversation about you has a ‘but’ as a conjunction you’ll know that your present has joined forces with your dark history to rub your trace from the map of human existence. After all, I believe it was omission of ‘t’ in butt that formed ‘but’, nothing good comes from ‘butts’. Sometimes I wish that you were here, other times I’m glad that you left before they branded you a misfit. I have all names that I wear daily, profanities held on placards and iniquities flawlessly inscribed on my forehead. Even as I write, I have to beg my hands to continue typing, I no longer want to please them. But brother who doesn’t need approval? Especially after being spat out like spoilt milk? I have lived in denial, I have lied to myself that I don’t need anyone’s approval but the truth is there are days when I just need someone to tell me that I’m on the right track. When no one does, I fail to know my destination.
Brother, I would like to tell you so much, about technology, there’s whatsup, facebook, twitter, IG among others but this short letter isn’t really about me and my space; it’s about you! Why did you leave so quickly?
Do you know how painful it is to live as two different beings in one lifetime?
I’d love to say I hate you, but hate arrived late when the apartments of my heart were already in rubbles, all that’s left is tiny cage holding my love for you hostage. This love has been held here for so long I need to check its expiry date. How irrational of you to depart and leave a part of you? Do you know we shared same breasts? Or did I suckle too much that you died of starvation? Tell me twin bro, I can’t find the right answer, my conscience is bugging me. Did I take all the love our mother had to offer, so much that you saw no point in living in a world devoid of love? For your consolation, mom died few years after you left, she didn’t even raise me. Does that make us even?
Brother, I need you. I have stood before the mirror so many times just tracing a hint of your face but nothing forms that could depict the beautiful image my heart holds of you. Besides I see you in abstracts, nothing physical, whenever I think of you I see love, kindness, creativity and tenacity. The latter is more boldly engraved than the rest, I guess this is why I believe that you were the executor because you can hold on to the wheels even when your hands they grind. I can never do that. You see, I can only form mental pictures but you were gifted to bring them to reality. You’ve rendered me useless brother, for what is the need of a dreamer without the executor?
There’s a ship in friendship that ferries friends to their destiny, but ours left me stranded at the cove as you chose a shortcut to end all this. You’re a coward, you should have looked death in the eye and told him ‘not yet, you aren’t taking me alone I am not leaving without my twin brother’
The same way there’s a hood in brotherhood, a feeling of belonging, and being appreciated, my hood scoured all the worthy memories of us, now emptiness hovers around my heart like a dark soot in a clear sky. But I still hope that one day, you’ll be here to answer my questions. I’m not done but I’ve got to go to work. I didn’t tell you, I work for seven days a week for a little pay just to keep my son alive!

Hearts will shrink

There comes a day when reality will spill on the pages of our lives, when your heart will shrink to encapsulate the little I offered. And we’ll weep why love always is an improper fraction, weighty expectations on malnourished shoulders