I am a writer and a poet. A soul searcher and a realist. A communicator and home decorator.

Forty Steps

Forty Steps.

Running is slow
I must walk,
Talking is loud,
I must not sing,
Flying is not high,
I must swim,
Climbing is low,
I should crawl,
Sleeping is studious,
I will not sit.

He has taken Forty steps,
Took Forty steps,
Take Forty steps,
And is taking Forty steps
On a spot.

Hard work bows to him,
O man of steel,
A man that bends labour,
With his hammers:
The smith that refines gold
Only in his dreams.

My Voice.

My voice.

In a small world,
Living in fear is a treasure
That hunts you,
Escape becomes boring,
Boring becomes life ,
Life becomes you.

I shall wait for the sun to
Wed the moon,
The heavens to father a child,
And earth to stop giving birth.

I must cry to be seen,
Laugh to be loved,
Sing to be successful,
And drink to dance.

I am no human,
I am no angel,
I am no devil,
I am non living:
I am a question
That needs an answer,
A man without strength,
A wife without a name,
A child without playmates,
And a virgin with no suitor.

Screwed Back

Screwed back.

In between my thighs
Are deep Wells,
Locked by Abraham,
Fought for by
Lot;
Killing moments in months,
To raise hats,
To pride.

I laugh at stress,
Some company,
Nailed to the wall,
Looking loving like a portrait
That hides the painters pains.

What can you see?
Sweat mixed with water for a drink,
Files going down an empty stomach,
And arithmetic for dreams.

Please;
Buy me time
I cannot afford it,
Even though I am rich.

© 2020 Jade George Anibor