Thursday, 12 January 2012


How Can You Live on the Banks of a River That flows with blood?
Where do you run to when you thirst?
You waste away at the source of Refreshment
Expecting to feel cool drops Of life
Instead you wail at the bitter taste
Betrayed by a false oasis


Lift up your precious things
Stretch your arms to the sky



My own is eternal
Internally disposed
it carries me distance
I'd never suppose
In mine there's none left
The calm in my woes
Alighting from journeys
A transit which goes
To my struggle.


Who will cry for the baby girl
When you tire of holding her hand
Who will lead her to safer chimes
To help maintain her stand

Who will cry for the sweet young maid
Who stumbles to fall on the turn
How do you twist away, then look back
As her dreams clatter down and burn

Who will cry for the tender teen
While after dreams broken down
Whence come soothing kisses from sorry
As her  shoulders grow round.

Who will weep for the woman left
 in questions untold
Will you hold a candle along her path
Where footsteps, like mystery fold..

Who will cry for the widow who weeps
Alone on a desolate stone
Her lover resides in a constant sleep
Calling her to come home.

I will cry for all these ones
For they are my inside
I carry the gift and burdens bequeathed
On Gods gift to every Man's Pride.

Twin Peaks

It isn't so much that
I don't 'like' it

IT isn't worthy of
the question

IT shouldn't come up
In conversation

IT shouldn't appear
In my vision.

It isn't a case of
I don't know IT

More that it would not
Expect my acquaintance

Proximity creates...
What? Intimacy?

Sincerity forgoes
Enforced fakes
In the resilience of my

At IT.

If Youth Only Knew...

If youth only knew
The speed with which life would
Flee to the corners of existence
Forcing promises, unfulfilled
Urgent tasks, bigger than the day
Put off till later, tomorrow
Getting around to the relevant dream

If youth only knew
Of the certainty that death
Beckons always, and time
Marches on in obesience

If youth only knew
That Wisdom is not
Given until earned
From pain. Lustful greed
Is the bait, elusive and new

If youth only knew.


The strength of your spirit
Is borne out of change
Win changes when striving
Your spirit and range

I love you for daring
To walk in His name
When cares and travails
Pull you into the flame

My Zeus be determined
To draw on the fibre
That weaves all your vessels
Of life's skilled desire

Hold back when confronted
With rags bright and red
And do all the things that
Your Mama once said

My Love is eternal
a yellowing flame
Squared up on the corners
See's nothing to blame

Direction is only
Life's road maps and serves
As angels and arrows
Decision deserves

Your picture is beautifully
Carved from rich stone
My Phil ia won't ever
Be walking alone.

Sept, 11, 2011.


If simple were to everything
The colour of desire
Would we desire it?

As fervour captures monotone
As air enhances fire
As simple as a bee in Spring
Locating might with will
And to inspire it?

Withholding touch and gentle hum
Let simple just be still.
When simple blocks the doorway
It mistakes my attitude
Cannot admire it?

No gap, no seem to separate
The naked from the nude.
Will simple ever dominate
My journey and my step?
I won't retire it!

Then walk beside me
Thigh upon thigh
The balance of my step..


Why must you have it all?
Why can't you ever choose
You say, it was US, WE gave
You the apple
But greed helped you take it
Greed sends you to her
The pull of adoration
What makes it ok?
When is it right?
To pick and choose
From the WHOLE barrel.
Then, dig again
Bruising layered bare fruit
Proudly offering itself
To your palm.
Who makes the rules?
Why break the rules?
Who cares to write them?
Recite them!
To each other we speak
Empty words of promise
And break them with ease
When darkness falls
Can't you be true
Be Love
Be Whole
Without entourage
All or none of me
Everything I see
Will regret seeps
Out of promise.
No patience for perfection
Since offering rejection
Pooled on sweaty palms
Reaching beyond arms

Monday, 9 January 2012

The S-Files: Pressure

The S-Files: Pressure: Pressure Under pressure I rise With pressure I fall The pressure of living Extracts from my all A curious pressurised Likeness of bei...


Female Friendships of Convenience

I'm watching America's Next Top Model, and never mind an 'embarrassment of riches' how about an 'embarrassment of bitches'!
The problem with these girls is the problem with us women in general. We are insincere in our friendships with each other. We think and strategise about each bond, except the ones forged in childhood or bound by blood.
In the early part of the competition the girls quickly pair or clique up.. declaring how they're best friends with this one, and admire greatly that one, seeking to create an alliance to get them through the bad times ahead. None of these sincere. I'd call it a 'protection instinct' a bit like how a new prisoner on arriving on the cell-block, needs to make friends who'll keep them safe and avoid them becoming general prey.
Then, as the competitions goes on, and the same person they had professed undying loyalty to, becomes stronger, continues to survive the tasks and shows themselves as a threat...these alliances are broken. Girls start to re-align themselves...picking fights, throwing tantrums...'Breaking up'!
Did they, for a minute think these were real friendships? Or do they see it for what it is, a cowardly, yet human relationship of convenience? I think the latter.
So, ladies, how do we ensure we are real with those we profess to care about? I tend to ask myself two questions: would I still want to be close to this person if I was in the midst of family and friends? And:
Does this person bring out the best in me?
If the answer to both is 'yes', it's for real. But then, I could be wrong too.

February 14th - Inside Out

Inside Out

Happy Val's Day! February 2010. Reminding me that right now no-one loves me enough to go through the motions.
The motions being.....
Flowers, chocolates, dinner etc, etc...etcetera...etcetera here in affluent Abuja refers to luxury hampers, designer dresses, even cars!
This time last year I had just broken up with my first, post-seperation boyfriend.
The year before that, February 14th was the day after my ex husband's cousins wedding. The one where he ignored me the whole day, while simultaneously being preoccupied with his phone. The day after the wedding, I made him a big Sunday breakfast then sat with him while he flicked between CNN and Sky Sports. When the boredom started to set in, and I retired back to the bedroom to surf Facebook. He came in and made a fuss of it: "you're always on that thing". I was speechless. Well not quite...we fought. The ensuing row resulted in me having to find my way to Murtala Mohammed Airport, Lagos- in a 'cabo cabo' non- air conditioned taxi, alone, unaided, loaded down with bags and thoughts. He didn't even see me to the door. I remember feeling embarrassed at the staff's pitiable looks as I struggled alone into the cab. The entry in my journal for that day: by this time next year, I need to have left him.
1 May 2009 I did.
Back to February 14th 2010. I recall dropping into the supermarket to pick up some milk; and feeling irritated at being accosted by red roses, discounted chocolates, rotund hanging hearts, and Barry White on the supermarket radio, "Girrrrrl, it's just you and me...." Then on the drive home, on the car radio driving home, DJ Tilly talking about the many club parties planned for the evening.
I clearly remember thinking 'give me a break' Newly broken up and feeling depressed, having stashed the life-size Valentine's card I'd bought for Clive, because I thought we'd make up...I decided to join friends for dinner, and drinks.
In fact, as far back as I can remember, I've not had a positive St Valentines experience. So here's the thing:
I don't believe in it.
I feel loved by those who love me, EVERYday. In fact the irony of it is that I feel 'less' loved on 14th February than the days before or after.
I know I'm not the only one to have this epiphany, and opt out of the tide of cliché- commercialised-pseudo-romanticism. For many, this is easier to float with than to swim against the tide. Romanticism versus love. Romance for the outside, love for the heart.
St Valentine has it all inside out.

Feb 14th, 2010


New reality brings
Supporting Clarity
Nothing hid
Who am I
What I did.

Nov '10


When you curl up into your cave
And you bring the curtain round
Say to the world, stay outside
Say to me, you too
You especially
Am I to keep knocking?

Uninvited guest
Crashing the party where
I am the subject of opinions
You take a risk
When you leave me
Out in the elements
What if I rust
And die?

And when you come looking
I'll be gone, hurt, dead
Will you recognise my corpse
Who will I resemble
after the rain?

If the truth be told
Leave me not in the cold.

Oct, '10


The Question: How do you know when you've made that real connection?
My Answer: When it's been made with you, and you don't resist.

I don't want to feel the mad irresistible urge of passionate loving, the pull on my heart, the lurch in my gut. Only slightly, gradually, you start.

I don't wish to have the green clouds of jealousy following my thoughts, then clouding my instincts. You go ahead, I'm on my way.

I don't care to wait for your call, breathe your name and watch you sleep, while dreaming pictures of our life. You write the letter, paint the picture, I'll co-sign..

I don't care if your parents love me, or think I'm suitable. My family's unconditional love is sufficient for now.
These things are not my concern.

But I love you, because they are yours. And I'm ok with that.


To Be

Is it
To be
Or not
I wonder.


I woke just now from a dream of you
A dream so real, I stumbled
Fell into arms a vivid path
Of safe surrounds, so humbled
I woke just now from a place so safe
A place I'd climb back into
My day thought's might not take me there
It's not a place I've been to

I woke just now from a dream of you
We rode upon a carriage
If only I controlled my dreams
I would have dreamt my marriage
I wish it back, this dreamy place
Where all is smooth and, creamy
I'd float upon this silent breeze
With eyes which truly see me.

July, 2011 4.25am

I Won't Be Humble

I Won't Be Humble
I won't be humble
When I sing
So when I'm feeling
All the things
Which bring me joy
And light my sky
I won't be humble
Though I'll try
I won't be humble
While you push
My dreams of laughter
If you SHUSH!
Me, whisper sober
Tales of woe
To keep my spirit
Sweet n low
I'll fail to humbly
Speak your name
Reciting freely
Flowing blame
For measures sought
Outside of me
And darkness which
I dare not see
I shall not humbly
Love your face
while feeling warmth of
Smiling Grace
For lovers know not
And rashly shun
I won't be humble
Where my gifts
Of reaching, bearing
Spirit lifts
The beauty of all
Souls laid low
I won't be humble
This you know

July, 2011

To Have and to Hold

Nothing worth having is easily got
Know where you're going and follow the plot Don't let the challenges get in your way Dreams of tomorrow are moulded today.

When It's Clear

When it's clear,
it's good
To miss the human touch
Let go of the last paragraph
And step into the light

When it's clear
it's best
To understand the why..
All things forgiven
All things embraced

When it's clear
it's right
No matter how it feels
Arms open to the knowing
When chance creates a way

When it's clear,
it's just
Like straight upright vows
Of flowing and of loving
The power in now

When it's clear,
its faith
With movement fresh within
The rich fragrance of hope
And Summer of mind.

When it's clear,
it's good
I miss the human touch
Let go of the last paragraph
And step into the light

August, 2008


Under pressure I rise
With pressure I fall
The pressure of living
Extracts from my all
A curious pressurised
Likeness of being
Whatever life's current
Has pressed me to seeing
Under pressure love thrives
As pressure hearts fail
The pressure of loving
Will always prevail
When I picture pressure
I see it in red
It presses and bubbles
Inside of my head
Oh pressure don't press me
To feeling the need
To bend, and to sacrifice
That which I feed.
Under pressure the risen
Will stumble and fall
Shall my life withstand it
The pressure of all?