Skip to main content

NEW poem : blank screen , a blunt and popcorn

The rain poured its emotions on the ground as the ground took its vengeance on we humans.

I sat on the balcony with my blunt and a smile, and watched the strange clouds as they cried on humans .

The sun must have broken the winds heart again , or the ground fought the heavens and zeus threw his thunder bolts in vain .

Wait what do i see? It was a beauty like never before, but i didn't understand how because my visions were blur .

I was high and my day just began, i walked when the rain stopped like i lost all the problems in the world .

A single man whose only problem was not how to get but how to keep a girl .

So i went to the cinemas to see a movie but steared at the blank screen, blowing my blunt as the smokes made realities become dreams .

And then she walked in with this awful look, 1,2,1,2 were the steps she took .

And sat beside me asking for my blunt i thought she would choke , Maine i love me a girl that loves to smoke.

We talked for a while and i became hungry, we were both high and everything became funny .

We started eating the popcorn which led to kissing . We were alone and the loneliness lead to fucking .

When we were done she left and i smiled, the blank screen and my blunt on the pop corn was wild .

As i turned to ask for her name, her body turned to the smoke i was blowing away .

Then i noticed the movie just started, i had day dreamed and my blunt had wasted .

My smile was fictional as the movie . The lady in my smoke walking in to seat beside me .

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mixed

I've imagined different versions of you, searching for the mystery behind your essence. But imagination is a world unbound by reality. You were the first to make a dream of mine come true—just by being yourself. I'd read you every day, even as books gathered dust on my shelf. Beauty and pain are two sides of the same coin, Which is why I never judge a book by its cover—though sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe the character arc is just too captivating, And I want to be a part of it. Today, you were a safe space, Welcoming, Everything I hoped you'd be from the outside. Layers began to peel, Revealing more of the real you. I'd love to create memories with you, For memories define us, And I want ours to be honest, Truthful. Your energy and cadence command respect. Yet your body language remains a tough read. This run is going to need a long stretch.
Post a Comment
Read more

BADAGRY

The night was cold, as mothers cried, fathers lost their pride And husbands, their brides, It was the 400 th year of tears in this land, It began in the 15 th century, The white devil, Freeman Gomez searched for my people and me, Bound in chains as the tears fell from the heavens, I was a thousand miles away from home by the age of eleven, They moved us from Vlekete - slave market  to Eyon slave   market The chains on my neck were heavy, my stomach was hungry, and my eyes were runny Freedom was the target I was in Ijebu 5 days ago Now in Badagry getting ready to be sold To the point of no return I shall go To survive, I had to be bold The market opened every two days And we were sold for guns, mirrors, cutton and rums, The chiefs were dancing to the white devil’s tune Like they were trying to appease the gods As they dragged us to the beach to board their floating wood I was famished Who knew that we would be the last of 18 million ...
Post a Comment
Read more

THIS IS NOT MY STORY

I stood still for 90 seconds, I had a preview of my future and a review of my past as I gazed with lost words. Memories have hidden messages you never deciphered. History is the best motivator; it keeps you inspired. It’s like we have to become adults to understand why certain things happened? Like why your mother left you outside in the cold and you hated her, not knowing she was being the butt of some other person’s joke just to provide for you. Or why your dad leaves the house early and comes back late to avoid responsibilities he can’t handle, and a wife he now hates. But what are memories that you can’t enjoy? They are the pains that give you those life lessons, which helps in understanding maturity much better. This is not my story but I just imagined it. What if you walked in on your dad as a child cheating on your mother and you never recovered still? How this lady who was skinny and had a nice ass was riding your dad became the horror flick you saw as a child, but you ne...
2 comments
Read more