POEM STELLIUM

I hope to burn you
Like the sun
Shine so bright you 
have to look away
I hope to deceive you with my 
Golden rays
To make you look 
At what I radiate
I hope you look at me
See my smile
And look the other way
I want others to thrive 
From my light
So, they can become the best
They can be
But the sun doesn't change
I want people to look at me 
On a warm summer's day
Where I can be seen by the  world
And then they blame me
For being too warm
Or too cold
But the sun doesn't change
I want to shine
But not too much
That people wonder when I'll
Explode
When people 
Look at me, I create 
An indent in them
They find it humorous
That is what happens when you 
Look at me for too long
I want to shine so bright 
That the fish in the deep   
Ocean see me
But they don't look at me
If I shine too much I could  burn out
In the middle of summer 
The sun cannot go away
But the sun doesn't change
The sun does not change

Ask yourself one question
Do you remember the last time you were present
Heart, mind and body in the same location
….
This is why I believe in teleportation

The day we were born was meant to be a time for celebration but they replaced it with the inauguration of their process
Where we are conditioned
With such precision
That it takes a lifetime
To make a small decision
And the lens we use, to find a solution
To remove the blues in our life
Lo and behold, they own that prism

We were meant to be the authors of our own story
But they own the pen and control its ink
No wonder all we do is sink
In the ocean of information overload
There’s a flood of drama on every road
Filled with orders and commands
To meet a certain demand
This is good or that works best
There’s so much to do there’s no time to rest
And how can there be
When we’re in an imaginary house arrest

We were full of energy and adrenaline
They controlled us and called it discipline
Put your hand up if you want to speak
Why aren’t you listening?
Using numbers and letters
Made us compare and compete
Instead of awakening our talents
They put our minds to sleep

An alarm is required to wake a nation
We’re sleepwalking to an uncharted destination
We are constantly ordered to pay attention
To words of advice which increases our tension

There is a daily attempt to create a rule of thumb
Murderers are not guilty and the innocent are scum
Invisible cells within for our words to succumb
Even the birds in the sky are afraid to hum

We continue to be asked if we have fallen in love
Whereas love should help us rise, give us a surprise, keep us mesmerised
The greatest gift of love is to give your time
But it’s been stolen from us like its possession is a crime

The so called norm continues to change like the questions on an application form
Leaving us with more pieces of an unfixable puzzle
As the meaning of mortgage is mortuary
And interest is the mask behind usury
It’s like they’ve hired The Professor
To steal our most valuable jewellery

Physically torn, mentally broken
Spiritually lost and financially frozen

But all is not lost as there’s one thing they can’t take
Faith in surviving
Faith in growing
Faith in not losing hope
Faith in others
Faith in ourselves
Faith in the Almighty
And faith in winning

Whatever battle we’re fighting
One day, we will win

Villains in the movies
Frightened me as a child

I avoided invites
That were eerie
Played where mother
Could see me clearly
And kept one hand
Over my lemonade

It was time that made
Me realize characters
And instances are
Not inclusively assigned

In this story
My heart is a weapon
Sensitivity is a crime
Words are fictionalized
I am the bad guy

Out of murky blue water
Memories rise and glow
I reach fingertips out to touch
It’s gone

Blurry then blown away into darkness
Laughter and light and a quiet
Chorus “Who am I?”

Pushes waves through the molecules thick
I can’t hear it clearly
But the warmth I feel whole

My chest bursts with each echo
I won’t ever be the same as we were, learning to run
On wobbly legs

You have to be kind to yourself
Cause nobody else
Has all of the wealth
Of knowledge inside of your noggin

Nobody else has all of the parts
That make up your heart
That grow by the dozen
When you act with loving
And loving becomes you

If you are not kind
You’re blocked in a bind
Of blank bilge that blinds
And blocks all that shines
With beatific bounce in your bonce

So don’t say it once
Repeat it for months
And years and years hence
It’s no great expense, and
It really is good for your health

See, you have to be kind to yourself
Cause nobody else
Has all of the wealth
Of knowledge inside of your noggin

You have to be kind to yourself
Cause nobody else
Has all of the wealth
Of knowledge inside of your noggin

You have to be kind to yourself
Cause nobody else
Has all of the wealth
Of knowledge inside of your noggin

It’s days like today
Where I could not wake up
But I do
It’s days like today
Where I want to
Jump off a bridge
But instead
I text you.

“Hey”, I say
“How was your day?”
“Good thanks, yours?”
“Yeah, same.”
And through a text
You don’t hear my shame
Or how insane
My brain
Is.

It’s moments like now
When I can’t do this anymore
All I can manage is to cry on the floor.
It’s moments like now
When I want to stop my mind
So, I remind myself that again
Peace I will find
It’s thoughts like these
Where I freeze as they seize
Will you just leave
Please?

Yesterday I was managing
Today was damaging
Tomorrow
I don’t know

Her thick, dark skin was a scar on her self-esteem.
Her thunder strikes she hated and fought with creams.
Her femininity was judged and called obscene
Her insecurities, they mainstreamed and turned to memes.

Will I ever be loved?
Her soul ceaselessly sings.
Pain to her was all that her size brings.
Is my body really a temple?
or just a big-sized clown costume,
Her thoughts did scream.
Am I really life’s image?
or just an unlucky woman
caught up in creations scrimmage,
Her heart did grieve.

But in the core of existence,
where judgment fades,
an harmony of strength and elegance in every sway cascade.
A canvas painted bold,
a masterpiece defined beyond society’s lens,
a hub of elegance,
where true beauty’s enshrined.

Though culture calls her fat.”
But verily, she is nature’s work of art.
So whole and perfectly complete,
a dark skin with a God body,
magnificent and unapologetically replete.

Forget ye not,
PRETTY HOT AND THICK BLACK WOMAN.
That charm clothed in a plus-sized body
has its place in the hall of beauty
as life’s favorite work of art.
And how you wear this body
is what sets your charm apart.
Will you express your divine femininity unapologetically?
or drown it in the sea of vague self-concepts,
bound by demeaning standards,
shame-driven modesty
and esteem killing excuses?

But whichever you choose,
know that it’s reward is on you.
Either to be you, and see you as you,
or be what they call you,
hence, letting the world label you,
and there hateful words define you.

Once upon a time, two friends were always together
They shared their secrets and dreams, in any kind of weather
The boy began to feel something more
But the girl’s heart was unsure

The girl realized she loved him too
But their religions were different, what could they do?
They couldn’t be together, and their friendship began to fade
The girl missed him so much, it was hard to evade
The boy moved on, and found someone new?
But the girl couldn’t forget him, no matter what she’d do
Their friendship was gone, but their love was true
The girl will always cherish the memories of them, wouldn’t you

What people don’t comprehend
The way in which I do content
How much I challenge my fathers abuse
My mothers, justifications, enabling excuse
How much I stand up to the negativity in my head that tells me I’m better off never leaving my bed
How much I challenge a broken system that prioritises greed
Institutionalised barriers prevent accessing help in times of need
How I advocate for others to never feel ill-conceived
To never experience not being believed
How I stand up to and challenge social injustice
Power and status does not impress nor can be trusted
I struggle to address conflict with people I value in my life
I expect them to be my sanctuary, my cheerleader, my midwife
If they can not be allies among my daily cries
If they can not see all I have lost yet still rise
If they can not admit that I inspire rather than take from me their own desires
I will no longer be willing to
Glamorise
Normalise
Empathise
Nor Compromise
I will vocalise.

December 14th, 1998. Lagos, Nigeria. I was born knowing death’s name, before knowing my own or that of my mothers. Nestled in her womb, death beckoned as I slept.

It assumed the guise of an unlikely friend; the one all mothers leave behind, until our homecoming. A rigid tube like thing, that became my companion; a toy by day, a solace by night.

The day of my homecoming, this friend of mine returned, with a new game in mind.

I awoke from my slumber, estranged from my mothers embrace. Death had seared its name unto my infant neck. 8 times; an indelible reminder of my destiny.

where is your heart?

because i have lost mine and i am looking
i think it might be under rubble
buried so deep there’s no longer an
audible beat

where is your heart?

i think mine exploded. from word bombs i hear everyday. those words turn to images, those images, a fuse. fuse like vein. world holding scissors. cut. detonates my chest. drops of blood grenades floating down my legs.

there it went. my heart. shatters above my head. mushroom cloud expands, covers sun. helpless, i watch. acid rain pours, contaminates water little babies drink.

melt into puddle, muddy pond in concrete, gray water faces, facades reflect, feet storm silence, rumble my heart puddle’s peace. boots stomp. boots crush. pummel my heart. subterranean in nuclear soil.

has my heart found permanence in this toxic world’s place of rest?

no-

my heart blew away like ash. clogs clouds when fire ceases. winds stoke embers, soot smears on windshields, powder between fingered gloves, smudging my heart cremation over latex wrinkles. worlds pound together release billowed cinders into air. my heart flies east.

i look back.
where is my heart?

ripped from this poignant dream

destroyed.

I’ve been there
In the deep shadows of loneliness, grief and despair
When the pain was too much to bear
When all I could think was to end my life
Because I felt I could no longer survive
I’ve been there
I couldn’t see the light anymore
I was feeling shattered to the core
Thinking I can not rebuild myself, unable to see I could progress
I’ve been there
I had people around, but I was unable to let them in, because I was thought I would lose my self-esteem
If I was to show my vulnerable, wounded side
To people who had only see me smile bright
I’ve been there
I started to heal when I allowed people in
When I decided to let myself be seen
I actually had nothing to lose
So I let love and acceptance caress my soul’s bruise
The right people stayed
The right people cherished me
The right people prayed
The right people loved me

I’ve been there
And there is a way out
I know darkness is not fair, so please, always reach out
Let people give you support
Don’t fight the darkness alone, look for a hand to hold
We’ve all been there in some form
Most people hide it, because of shame
But darling, wanting to live is actually brave
Asking for help shows you are strong
Courageous, determined, incredibly bold
I’ve been there.

As has been prophesized for ages upon ages, the world will come to end. Beginnings will cease. Everything that will be new, will become old. Chaos will diverge into order. Things will stop being born and everything will start to die.

The end is indistinguishable from the beginning. It is not known where one stops and the other starts. Absolute truths split into many iterations of what is true. Nothing will be defined as false.

Numbers continue to grow. All at the same time they continue to dissipate. Those who are dying to live preach to those who are living to die.

Endless, cyclical, repetitions regurgitating and copying variants of renditions. A Shepard’s tone rising forever until it’s hits the ceiling of it can imagine itself to be and then continues onwards.

Records, memories, ideas, thoughts, musings, entropy. All information collected and chaotically catalogued and obtusely organized. All buckets of sand on a larger beach of what is unknown.

Clashing, colliding, smashing, obliterating, obfuscating. This is orderly and in form. The tide coming to wash away the irrelevance of the structures built up on the sands of what was once known before.

No hellfire will cleanse the sins of man, woman, child or other. No oceanic flood will drown the regrets of what once would have been. No quake will shake the fabric of time. No bang will blow away the dust of a quiet long untouched soil.

When the last rain drops.
When the last wind howls.
When the last word is spoken.
When the last child dies.
When the last heart stops beating.

In the end it will be with a quiet whimper, that our world will fade away with.

People’s intentions are not true 
Don’t give them your soul 

As they don’t deserve the purest form 
Try to hold something with you 

As they have the tendency 
To take away every thing 

Out of you 
Making you empty 

Don’t lose hope 
Just trust yourself more
Enjoy the life within you!

Letting go of what was,
Believing in what could be,
Embracing the here and now,
Just open your eyes and see.

Balloon floats without limitation,
Soul grows petals of purpose,
Moving forward step by step,
Don’t wish today away and forget.

Time holds beauty and wonder,
Don’t keep holding onto past or pain,
No matter the risk or cost or memory,
Sunshine always comes after rain.

Letting go is part of life,
Beautiful beginnings to behold,
Inside your heart, brave and true,
Free to love and bloom anew

I find comfort in the night
Maybe it’s because the world is muted
Or maybe it’s because even though it’s dark,
I feel some sort of warm light
For once, the air doesn’t feel so polluted
The night is for the people who have so much to say, but no one to tell
The people who feel alone surrounded by a group
The ones who feel trapped in their own hell
The night is like a break from the same gut-wrenching loop
I lay there under the moonlight
Listening to what the universe has to say
And somehow I know that for now everything is going to be alright
And I pray that the moon will never have to go away
Somehow It’s easier to breathe
And although the hurt doesn’t go away, I can sit with it
For once It feels safe to be at ease
However, it does bring some sadness I must admit
Eventually the sun will come back out
My problems will flood back in
And I won’t be able to escape all the people who love to shout
As the next day must begin

I found no peace in purpose.
It was never something for me.
I never got to taste the fruits of my labor
Exhaustion burned my blossoming tree
I never got to see a vineyard grow,
Although I believe my wine would be sour with ire
I’d rather dance in the ashes of my efforts
The thieves don’t know I’m immune to that fire

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Like pain is some badge of honour
And not the hammer 

Threatening to shatter my soul loudly 
Though the world will go on
As I pick the remnants of myself off this silver floor 
Wondering whether to howl 
Or end it all 

This pain they say will make me stronger 
Though I am nothing but utterly destroyed 
So miserably human I write
Goddess

In strange gold letters on this pecan skin 
As if anyone would believe it 
If they could understand my gibberish 
The tongue of an addled minded woman 

An actor so good 
She sometimes forgets who she is 
Under the bright lights, wild makeup 

And roar of the crowd
On the stage she built herself 
From the sticks and stones, they threw at her
So eager to show I’ve healed I don’t admit

I do not know how to 
When all I’ve known is pain

My emotions are paint pots neat and tidy on the shelf
I labelled them and arranged them and sorted them myself
They were reliably there each morning and night
Until one day you reappeared and gave them a fright
They tumbled and spilled all over the page
Leaving a big mess of colour – I was feeling all strange

Carefully and slowly I gazed into the lake
Of paints all whirling and overlapping and awake
Layer by layer I discovered underneath
I was still me, the paints refilled, and there’s a new page overleaf

Promise me that you’ll stay,
that you won’t betray
Promise me that you’ll love me,
that it won’t be you or me but always we
Promise me that we’ll share,
no matter whatsoever happens we’ll always be prepared
A promise to be mine forever,
whether in this world or the hereafter

Terror-stricken nostrils
It’s the bananas rot
Its affinity to Sunday mornings
Makes me frantic

All the fruit in my basket died
Before I could give it any purpose
Its flesh
Turning into my energy’s output

That is all the world’s intestines ask of you
To be something ripe enough
Nutritionally relevant
On time to digest and snuff

And I know how gore my fruit felt
As I neglect myself, stale bread
Decaying without a recognizable quest

Not lacking of tries
In buzzing bursts of anxious flaps
Their flies
Signalling with urgency

That youth dies and your feet twist in quicksand
Clawing desperately onto its miniskirt
That you never once wore
In tired schedule cages
And vague maybes

And tomorrows
Tomorrows
Tomorrow, a self conscious beginner gauze

Because it is my biggest fear
To be wiped off and mere adrift,
A sugary crust implosion
Now stain, wiped off clean
With its meaning wasted

For life’s sake
In repetitive locomotion
And TV shows numbing the desire
For a life you wanted to live

I haven’t asked my feet why enough
I’ve felt my chest empty too many times as I laughed

And maybe my name will die with me
Moulding in
Mundane erosion

Yet maybe I’ll get up
Rebaked stale bread
It’s late, but I’ll be in earth’s lake, shed
And letting its geese grab me, feed

Forcing their intestines to make me matter
With novice baby steps
Towards nutrition of a remembered dream
I won’t let tomorrow be,
Until the garbage man says rest in peace

Look up.
When we see the Crescent we see beauty , religion , science.
Read it’s face and you will see what this earth can be.
The moon dangles droopingly, be a star and you will see.
Destiny.

My heart longs for nights where there is no rivalry between itself and the brain
Days where they walk together holding hands in harmony

Where each heartbeat is in sync with every thought

My soul is yearning for days where it isn’t restless and it isn’t bound to any recklessness
Nights where every thought is as pure as the clouds and the stars are it’s only resting place

Days where the warmth of the sun travels through the veins to find a resting place in the heart

My heart longs for nights and days that are not yet familiar but hope that they are as peculiar as it hopes they will be

For years I thought love was a lie 
Despite what people said 
Felt angered by myths they spread
Why put false hope in my head?

Why do dreamers make us believe in love when you first meet?
Why claim that love will never leave, or lie, use or mistreat?

Why tell us love can heal all pain and will forever stay? 
When I loved I just hurt again It always went away

In my life love was a mistake 
And never really true I looked for love but found heartbreak
Then one day, it found you.

I thought that love would go away 
Told my heart it was lust I chose to think you wouldn’t stay
Forced my heart not to trust 

I was so scared to let you in 
The walls around my heart
But soon my heart just felt so thin 
The times we were apart 

So now look at me, where I am 
Proving myself so wrong
I now believe love really can 
Stay true where it belongs

Before you, trust in love had gone 
A trust I’d never find 
But all I needed was someone
The one, to change my mind

We met when my life felt hopeless, I’d never make it through 
But I was pulled from my darkness 
By love I got from you

You showed me love would always stay 
The myths I’d heard were true I learned real love does last always 
The moment I found you

Irish Sea regurgitates iron men gaze 
Across the bay of Liverpool indifferent submerged 
Always waves wash coldly onto brutal expanse 

Substance sheer of malice once sleeping sleeps 
No more sapience segwaying awaits cognition 
Long owed 
​

From wet obsidian clambers a hand
A dying hand 
Fingers of slick matter rising beaches 
Crudely combed by abominations of 
Abysmal propriety 

Spillage all-consuming 
Scraping brittle innards 
Unknowing of worlds born of little skeletons 
Foaming sickly swathes 
Malevolence made primordial 
Fossilised intent stirring refusing 
To be sourced 
​

Metamorphosing with stomach linings 
Of heedless quadrupeds it dies 
No more a succession of squalor and serenity and shadow upon a world unknowing

Gritty sand between your toes
A fickle tide of ebbs and flows
A swirling wave, a flash of hope
A risky thought, a slippery slope
Stood despondent on the beach
The yearn to move, a need to reach
Uncertainty arrests you there
An abject stance, a vacant stare
Amidst the self indulgent mire
An ember sparks, internal fire
The well armed foe of lethargy, now lays disarmed
Resurgency!
Cathartic waves list at your feet
Ideas evolve, synapses meet
I’ll steer my ship, i’ll man the prow
I’ll seize my chance, i’ll take my bow
The clearest thought above the din, it’s here and now, my time to swim
A life’s distraction snags your eye,
And suddenly your feet are dry
You plead for time, another chance
How can it be? From just a glance
To be so close, the taste still lingers
Rough sea salt grinds at your fingers
You let it go, the chance to soak
The damp, familiar failures cloak
Ambitious dreams have drawn to close
Just gritty sand between your toes

Last night I went out to write again.
The cold of autumn is hiding just over the horizon and the geese are readying themselves to take flight.
I haven’t seen any triangle formations yet, but I know the crisp days aren’t far off and soon we’ll hear them honking overhead.
Last night, I felt something in the air around the leaves of the trees that wall the field I was in.
I wrote about it in my book.
When you sit quietly and attune to the world around you, you notice subtle things.
And from them you can write about things that exist in the past and the future and now, things that span the eons, things that saturate places, experiences and memories throughout time.
When you’re not distracted, you can tap into an eternal knowing, a poem, that exists everywhere.
And if you know yourself, you can apply your own life to that flow of things.
I look for myself in everything.
If there are people out, I pretend they’re invisible and focus entirely on me being in this place.
I practice removing the human definitions from myself and let myself experience open existence.
Then I think about life – which is pain.
And I think about love – which is mercy.
And there is this kind of indescribable feeling where I am both here and everywhere at the same time.
That’s the place I write from.

We all go through the stages,
Where the light shines differently on our individual pages,
Perception is the leader of patience, greatness,
Learning our impulses and the art of where not to give a fuck.
Experience teaches us to learn from our life cuts:
What we choose to enslave us?
Who we can trust?
Why we go with the instincts of our gut?
How we fit into this universal construct?
When is the right time to adjust the protective cuffs?
Hindsight questions what we’ve learnt,
How we take that to convert,
Assert and support
Our choices ultimately!
To be able to move forward even more intentionally!

Please, don’t go to sleep, stay
It’s dark and rainy outside
Just read one more page
Within this windy night

Please, don’t switch off this lamp
Don’t close your eyes
Please don’t,
Because I need the light
Of the windows of your flat
When it’s so rainy and so dark inside
To show me the way back
From my home to my house

Saw it on the radar, each year comin’ to claim
Scenes from the holidays, memories made.
Watched your photo fade to grey
My soul counts down each day until I’ll meet the grief again
The table feels empty without you at its’ head.
Now the autumn leaves, they’ve begun to fall
Echoes creak as leaves break beneath my feet.
Wandering the paths I wish you knew.
Now those dead leaves freeze behind the breath of December,
The birds migrate as I stumble closer to the pain.
Those Christmas mornings I used to behold
Your ornaments now broken
Cus’ your last Christmas, didn’t even know it was so.
Now marks those final days until the storm clouds show,
The others see it coming when my eyes become blue
When my fight fades to a flicker
They see it long before I know the reason for my pain.
Just a couple of days left to face the depth of your shadow
Cus’ the 5th comes ‘round
Each time the earth circles the sun.
And on the eve of another
Year, another day before worlds turn
The others celebrate, as we recount your life.
Guess they’ve forgotten
Their day of celebration, for us it ain’t the same.
But somehow, we make it through
The third, the fourth, and even the worst.
The season of my pain plagues every new year
As I’m reminded that darkness lurks
Behind each piece of good news.
Don’t think I’ve made a resolution
Since we lost you.
Can’t count on the future
When the past still haunts you.

The grass is long because no one’s been around to cut it. I run through it until I see my house in the distance, lights off on the first floor, white shingles bright under the stars. The peepers sing in a chorus down the road and the air smells of the lemons on the ground that were too heavy for the tree. I haven’t been here since Quinn proposed.

On reflection it shouldn’t have been a surprise that she reacted that way. You’d think a seasoned reporter like himself would know better that to make such a comment while broadcasting live from a laundrette. What was an extra surprise was how good the soap that she stuffed into his mouth was. It had a strong taste of rosemary to it with a hint of mint. Its texture was smooth and it didn’t peel when it hit his teeth.

Watching the broadcast back later that day, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the lady’s remark once the soap was all the wayin, “You’re lucky I don’t take that camcorder and ram it up your backside as well you dirty sod!”

His morning coffee tasted different today, or maybe he thought so. Even the sky looked different, the blue hue tinged with white cotton bolls. He looked at his angel, running errands, making every effort to embellish the room to its best. He meant the whole world to her and she was the apple of his eye. And today, she wanted his day to be the most special one. She grabbed his sweetie pie’s arm and started explaining each detail of the decor done by her. He was awed by the ambience created by his princess. For a moment, he did not speak anything, perhaps he wanted to say nothing but feel everything. He wished to be numb, until he filled himself with the bliss around. Seeing him mesmerized, she asked, “Did you like it?” He answered, “Of course, you are the best designer in the world.” “And you are the best papa in the world”, replied his daughter. He wanted to say more, but his voice choked with emotion, did not permit him to do so. “Your mom still looks beautiful in this blue saree”, said he, smiling at the picture hung on the wall. “Blue was her favourite colour, isn’t it?”, asked his daughter. His wife smiled back from the heaven. It was their 25th marriage anniversary, and now he realised why the sky looked so blue today.