As I sailed in this ocean
Prowled by storms of distress
I couldn’t hid in its liquidness
I would drown
I couldn’t drift into its atmosphere
The scholars; who seem abit clever
Said I would suffocate
But, they don’t have answers
To all my questions- I mean
And while am here; on its humus
I am croaking; any time as well
Either, from being slain by the diabolic creatures that thrive in it
Or to the storms of uncertainty and fate
But there could be worse; bad choices
And I have seen this land’s brutes praise valor
I wondered why should it be there?
Or anything smelling like it?
My friends in kindergarten said
It belongs to heroes; who resist the sweetness of evil
I told them I was going to be Herman or Hale
And one of those brats
Whose face I see; even in the dark born of these centuries on my phiz
He said I looked like Lucifer
Did I become sad?
I know nothing about it, but that he broke our friendship
Or rather, I did
I hit him; saving him only the last breath
And while I cooled my fist in the small, cold pond
I saw Lucifer incarnate; looking at himself

For I was young, and good
But I had tasted a spoonful of distress
And only with that
I could blow up the world trade center
A thousand times
Or as often as I had another spoonful
I’d learned to fight but not battles
Small-big personal wars; on my own of course
They coalesced with others’ we made World WarIII
Such brings victory, but we don’t win
We make fists and punch.
No! we weld iron with high temperature
And copulate it with wet stone
And it’s only vileness we take for booty
As it conquers our hearts’ chambers; all of them
But, we never seem to learn
We raise the rifle and cutlass;
And evil thrives
We are fighting for virtue; we think
There are no good fights in the world
We fight; and not to win
But to break- many a peaceful-heart
After all, there’s some art in breaking hearts
What’s to mind about making vows?
What’s the reward there is in keeping them?
If our impressions help alot
Winning us the superficial friends we need for moments
In a few seconds of numb-pleasure
What do we lose ?
It’s afew times
Once or twice or more than twice
Numbers mean nothing; save for dollars
And I looked at this fame devoid of glory
I have to disown one time
Could be at dawn or noontide or after dusk
Oh it’s damn pleasurable!
This; my kingdom come
Without a crown to give up on my death bed
This existence; the engulfing ellipse of emptiness
Where we run races only to win; less than our effort
And hunt for less than what we really need
Setting off on journeys that wind and wind
To a dead-end we call destiny
And we rejoice; seeing it as adventure
I’ve to let this ocean be what it wants
To kiss as many storms as it more than wants
I’ll let it watch me sail against its tides
For I have to be alive; not merely existing


Little -Big

I’ll never stop to value the power of small things. For all big things come from small ones.
The pieces that fall into place,
The droplets that form oceans,
The crystals that form icebergs,
The dates that form families,
The toddlers that make superstars
Or the amateurs that form heroes
And the slaves that build civilizations

I, officially, hate birthdays

This time, unlike the previous times, I awoke and I was sure it is my birthday. I am always sensitive of hers and am almost always limited by my wallet every time I intend to buy her a birthday gift. Am never anxious for anything but this time I broke the virginity of anxiety. I really wanted to see Reenah. Last year, I thought, she surprised me with a cake. And for the first time She laid her head against my heart. I was in a reverie. I imagined how I could wake up everyday next to her. I could never think she would forget my wretched birthday. Alas! Here are those ramming texts from everyone but not even a single one from her. How on earth does the person I love most not even think of my birthday? I spent the whole year thinking of what to buy her on her birthday. I think I now confirm she never thinks of me. She must have seen someone that can afford those nice things I cant wait to buy for her. She, probably, was with him yesterday and the joy she has for him at heart could never remind her of my poor face. It couldn’t let her even think of my wretched life. After all, I never used to celebrate birthdays.


“I am a walking
example of that American Dream.
Growing up we had nothing. But I had a
library card and a mother that cared. I
read every book I could get my hands on because I wanted to escape dire poverty.
I had enough money to apply to one
college. I decided on Yale. What would
have happened had they said no? There
I met Candy and as a team we raised
three boys and treated 15,000 patients. I have traveled, treated patients, and
lectured in 57 countries. Along the way I
was awarded 68 honorary Doctorate
Degrees. And now this son of a woman
from Tennessee with a third-grade
education, whose ancestors were slaves, is running for President.” Ben Carson,MD.



The biggest lesson I ever learnt in my early years of school was -to be afraid. To be afraid to ask, to be afraid to try, to be afraid to grasp, to be afraid to excel. The truth be that mathematics was a nightmare. I really feared injections whenever I got to that clinic afew meters from home. I can’t be more precise at expressing how fast the journey to school & that clinic were -indeed my worst destinations.
Whoever could think I would score distinction one at the end of primary was in a reverie but he must have awoken & found it a reality.
If I’ve learnt a good lesson, it’s from inspiration & what light it flouresces. It’s a torch that lights a candle of a young mind. I could -literary- be the top of my class after seven years of phobia for maths because I was inspired. Not only by the teacher I found in my final year of Primary but also the conviction I could make it like the rest in my class who gave an example for me to emulate.
Two things inspire a young mind; a mentor and a conducive environment.