Wednesday, January 15, 2014


They called a press conference
Even. pressing charges
For the many times we were felled
The Jabs we could not curtail
The minors who reclaimed our belts
Faster. we sank deeper
We cried. We lied
‘till we ran out of reason
The mystery we dread now draining we away

Our fans
Like thin smoke vanish at the sight of air
Flew away as if they got wings
Some associations now became denunciations
Me. My wife. she left me
Even when she’s with me
The helps we back upon now disdain we
Our sights smell foul
We’ve drowned too deep to come afloat
They failed us
But we’ve already failed our lots

They wail. Make blames
Saying we dead lions live amidst live dogs
Ache. Was a mild word to describe my mind
We’ve never made gain
We’ve only made way
Now the way to Canaan seem an illusion
The red sea of voices never hurt like a shotgun
Yet quitting will be our purgatory
Survival. Will be the greatest revenge
Not to conquer or make more enemies
But to strike a chord on the guitar of fulfillment

Sometimes it seems like we all dream
When in reality situations speak to our faculty
All we’ve seen however looked so real
Reverse was the case
We fear not!
Maybe we cared too much for image
But Image means nothing when the chips are down
A little ‘well done’ could have rendered our wall
For me. my keypad seemed to tell me to stop
And the mong’ers themselves never left my wall
Yet. Like a boxer
A writer must be prepared to stand alone
Train. Rehearse or re-write
Till this ‘block’ is finally knocked out

(c) 02.01.14. 10:45-11:10pm
First poem in the year 2014


  1. On point, big time...a little "well done" would have sufficed.

  2. We fight back no matter how many times we are knocked down

  3. The poem you have written is beautiful . Yes! We will fight back as writers , and always shall it be . Remain blessed .