Song of Ghadafi

I will seduce the sun, mount the moon

I will rape the rainbow right in her room

I will silence the sea, bribe the blue

I will rig the races freely for the flu

I will burn the bridges, blast the bliss

I will weary the waters with my fist

I will tender terror for a tea

I will bless the brothers with the bee

I will flare the fear, feast on their feet

I am the fury of Allah, I am Ghadafi

One Goal

One goal, one laughter from the lore
One flow, one swansong from the shore

One smile, one cuddle from the sun
One dance, one salute to the dawn

One day, the green will be watered and poise for a kiss
that day, the children will dream and dream for a bliss

One touch, one caress from the hue
One wing, one soaring to the blue

One giggle, one chuckling of the rain
One future, one budding of the brain

One day, the young will find their voice when we give ours
the morrow will look its best when they get the hours

One goal, one laughter from the lore
One flow, one swansong from the shore

Floating Like a Super Woman

The pain assailed crudely, bent on tasting blood. It burnt like fire, bite like ice, and darkness became the king. At that darkest hour, I knew death was nearby but it was torturing my soul rather than killing it. How can dying be more gruesome than death?
My eyes snapped open amidst splashing pains and there he was by my bedside. My husband was sleeping, his head resting at the edge of the bed. That moment, desire flowed through my vein like a sparkling spring. I wanted badly to stroke his head one more time. I wanted to look into his eyes and once again soar on the magic of his fingers, but my arms failed me. The only thing I was capable was tears and it burst again and again.
For fifteen years, we had both loved. Despite not giving him a child, he loved me all the same. A medical doctor, gifted in the art of mellowing poetry, Toye knew how to spice my smile with those soft words. On our wedding night, he told me I had the best breasts in the whole world and nicknamed them his little beauties. Each time he wanted to prepare me for what was to come in the evening, he would pick the phone and call me from the office.
‘Hi darling, how are my little beauties doing?’
I would chuckle. ‘They are not doing badly. They are even saying hello.’
‘Tell them I have a special treat for them tonight.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I am going to perform some searing magic on them.’
‘They can’t wait for their master to come.’ I would say and we would both laugh.
And much more later, I would watch with fascination as he paints my nipples with edible colours, kissing them with a yearning. Some other time, he would come to bed with ice cream, smears my breast with the cream and the excitement would linger.
He loved me. He loved my breasts and we loved him in return. But unfortunately for all of us, his little beauties were infected with cancer and they were taking me away from him.
He seemed to have sensed my tears; he lifted his head and moved swiftly towards me.
‘Please don’t’ he smoothed my brow.
‘The pain. Please make them go away.’
Tears gathered in his eyes. ‘I will if I could.’
‘But you can.’
‘But how?’ his anguish mounted.
‘Make it easier for me.’ I shut my eyes. ‘Kill me.’
‘What are you talking about?’ his voice trembled.
‘Please do it. I can’t stand it any more.’
‘Stop it! How can I kill you? How can I kill the woman I love?’
‘I am suffering. The woman you loved is in pain.’
‘I believe in miracles.’
‘Then be my miracle. Do this for us. Let me go in peace.’
Confused, he left the hospital and my pain lived on. Alone, I thought about my past and my dreams. About the sovereign God who watches while scores of women die everyday of breast cancer.
The next day, my husband came back. Without saying a world and with tears falling from his eyes, he injected peaceful poison into my soul and set me free. I floated like a super woman, reaching for immortality.
I died and my breast cancer too.

Oh Rain!

Rain o rain
thou art my favourite refrain
on my lips
you taste better and I slipped
farther...
farther and farther
until there was no pain

MY night, Your Day

Don't tell me
why the sun deflowered the moon
and the rain the noon

Don't tell me
why the dew caressed the leaves
and the spring the green

But tell me
why your day kisses my night
and my night your day

Dear twin sister

Dear Twin sister,
By the time you read this, I would be dead and gone. I know you will shed tears of agony over my wasted life. I know you will ask why I did it. why why why?
Why? If you look at me, then at yourself, you will find the why. Look beyond ceaseless times and seasons, you will see the why wrapped in fated doom.
Together, we grew in one womb. We swam in the same blood. We were destined to be one, a mystery of creation. And when the time came for us to finally see the world, you went first and I followed. We were like a song that would never go wrong. But remember, I go awfully wrong.
At the mother breast, it was always a healthy competition. You drank, I drank too. I cried, you cried too. We were dressed like one. We were fed like one. Oh yes, we were loved as one.
And then, you began to toddle round the house and I did not. With time, you were walking and running and yet I could not. Four years and the truth dawned. I was born a cripple!
We are one, yet we are different. When we were kids, you had so many friends and I had none. You were loved by many but I was pitied by many. During the school inter house sports, you were always winning the race. I could have represented the school in debate contests because I could speak better than everyone else. I was denied of those opportunities because I have no legs. You took all the glories and I was left with nothing.
Everyone keeps saying that I am the prettiest, but the boys think otherwise. All the love letters were heaped on you. Remember what happened when we were still teenagers? Mum and dad traveled and we were left alone in the house. I crawled out of our room into the sitting room and what did I see? You and Dave making love. At sixteen, you already knew love. That night, I longed for a man’s touch but none came. Who would make love to a cripple, anyway.
I am angry! But not at you. Not even at God. I am angry at myself. Maybe I choose to be like this. Maybe I brought this on myself. Maybe I go wrong somehow somewhere. I don’t know, really I don’t.
But I know. I know I am going to die and now. I am going away. Away from this unwholesome wish for you to be me and me to be you. Away to a place where I would finally find my wings.
Adieu my sister. Adieu…

A Sonnet?

Stuck in the gut of a guzzling lawn
Ghostly memories strummed bland string
Crushed by spiced terror, caged by sassy spring
I sank darkly like a netted pawn

Rippling stench of hell rendered harsh songs
Their tales nothing soft and sweet could bring
Fleeing from fear and struck by sour fling
There echoed my fate like galling gong

But swiftly, there arose a flawless flute
It sang; summoning lost wits to a final fight;
Panting and punching, faith put to flight
Shadowy fear, so viperous and now so mute

Stuck once in the gut of a guzzling rust
I ruffled and bite until victory here burst