Best Kingsley Poems
The Naughty Pen
She loves my naughty pen
Little wonder why her bunk shook
The last night I visited
Between the boards of her heart my verses are vast
Written with unspoken words
Littered with love language
Only her heart can decode
The naughty pen’s code
She loves my naughty pen
Because of its beautiful rhymes
The reverie of having my pen made her snore
As we snore
I swim through her imaginations
Exploring and emancipating her innermost
Conquering her doubts
Surpassing her body
Plowing the unknown
Building fences around her garden
She loves my naughty pen
And my pen love her I swear
But I hope she won’t stone my pen to death
For its naughtiness
Even if she does
My pen shall resurrect on the third day
Because no stone can kill true love
She kissed my naughty pen
Like a mother whose child needs lullaby
Caressing my innocent lips with her wet lips
As a baby pen, I cuddled between her two tender layers
Standing between her chest
The baby pen sucks her milk
Thus making her sobbed, saying; ‘crazy baby’
The sand hill stood straight, pleasure mixed with imagery
Dragging the night into an endless quest of possibilities…
Possibilities encoded with lyrics
I gave her my naughty pen the last night we met
Now, she is accusing the lyrics of my pen of being naughty
And yet, she is smiling all the way, asking for naughtier pen
Is it a crime to express my innermost feeling?
Is it a crime to build true imagery and fantasy?
Is it a crime that the mental state of my pen’s imagination is naughty?
Is it a crime that my pen loves her; and she loves my pen much more?
Much more because the frequencies of her heart beat is stronger than Rhythm FM
To my bosom friend
My naughty pen loves you
Stop acting shyness
Shyness is for the weak at heart
My pen is ready to go hungry for a century to proof this;
Ready to surmount Mount Everest for you;
Ready to blow you kisses when the night is dark and fear arises;
Ready to stand by you when the arrows of life rail at you;
Ready to cover you when the night is cold and cruel
Ready to make you feel like a woman
Ready to forgive and forgive, and forgive…
I love you….the naughty pen
Dedicated to Adeola Adenekan
Written by Awoh Kingsley
October 19th, 2012.
Void of you
My life is like a wind
Drifting to nowhere
Tossed and turned
By the ragging nature
Your kisses hunted me down
Capsizing and ceaselessly
Plowing my innermost
Drilling my manliness
Void of you,
My life is separated by miles of realities
Stay with me, my dreamer
Written by Awoh Kingsley
Dedicated to Adeola Adenekan
November, 2nd , 2012
Tears from The East
Head chatterd with state law
No fair hearing because the law is
deaf
Executioner groaning with sword
The hot sun ready to sip
Her blood oozes in the midst of
innocency
Arrogant mob mocking her tears
Justice jugging in the jungle
She is
Killed for no just cause
Nature stood aloof
As she groan and moan
Mother weeps endless
Father failing
Desert wailing
The ugly sun in the middle east bleeds
for freedom
Freedom trapped by devils in power
Religion masking and muting our
voices
Today, we weep for Ramata
Written Awoh Kingsley
It was not so
It was not so
Before the invasion of the vultures
In those days
When being black makes us thick
When our communion whispers across oceans
When our ties thrust distrust
When our dreams were dreams
When our groans frighten their gods
When our cowries outweigh their currencies
But now,
The invasion of the vultures
Mocked our mores
Crucified our tradition with their crusades
Barter our black gem for arms
Conscript our angels into prostitution
Littering our minds with the doctrines of servitude
It was not so
With their holy writ they stabbed us
It was not so
Before the invasion of the Vultures.
awoh kingsley awoh
MY NAME IS KAIZEN
Bullet oiled with knowledge
Hearts smitten with purpose
As a thin of air, we marched into the street of kaizen
The harvest is cream and green.
We the labourers with our intellectual machetes,
Made and manufactured by functional knowledge
Battered and butchered the dreaded monster called ignorance
The battle line is drawn
We are drunk of knowledge
With planks, nails and hammer,
We nailed a coffin for ignorance
The funeral of the old order
The emergence of the new order
At the cascade of kaizen,
We drank into stupor,
Stupor because we think and act outside the box;
Bullying the status quo
With the incisions of the God factor on our guts
We danced round the camp fire of books
Booking appointment with great minds
For in the opening of books we discovered we have wings,
To fly above illusory limitations
At dawn we chart and chant lyrics of hope for mankind
With the amulets of insight tied rounds our hearts;
At the echoes of the night when nature
Exact snoring on *****sapiens,
We labourers give ourselves to improvement,
For when lazy minds snore, active minds think
awoh kingsley
I saw him resting his laurels among dust
With dry gin conquering his stenches
A company of skulls screaming
Eerie sounds move through the trees
A hooded noise screaming behind
But I tell the stone to be still
Watching the wind and,
One the ghost came forth
Like a monument I stood among ancients shapes
As the landlord beckon on me, to come forth
I said no, am only but a tenant
He said come live with me without rent
Awoh Kingsley
September 1st, 2012
Dedicated to a cousin who was buried on September 1st, 2012
April 23rd,
The seductive smoky weed descending from Kabiru swept through my nostril
Cracky creepy shanties sneaking
Pulsating stench sneering from gutters
Churning and choky smoke oozing from the BRT buses
Area boys bullying
Police officers begging for spiritual currency
Perputuality and patriotism is our uniform
Confusion descending from the State House
Fashola’s spectacles is missing
Tinubu is snoring
Okada’s boys on rampage
Mama Risikat with assorted bottles of combined
I embraced a cup to shine my eyes
I embraced street live
Growing up in the hood
Swimming with the skally wags and hood rats
My dreams are illegal in Lagos
A meter from my nose
Is a sawmill and smiling garbage as high as Babel
Emeka’s blaring speakers echoing;’ do me, I do you, God no go vex’
Beside me, is a 2 storey house
The city of scam
‘Boys go hamma’
Unliag coconut heads with their effizy
Adeola’s gap-tooth snowballing
My naughty pen crying, ‘chop my money’
At dawn, the muezzin whispering’ Allahu Akbar’
O’ Lagos, your womb is polluted and punctured
Your dreams cut through third mainland bridge
Swaggering and swooning it trails
Lagos, a confuse city.
Written by Awoh Kingsley
Dedicated to Adeola
26th October, 2012
Just this morning, my pen pile
And drifted into slumber
I saw shadows and shame
And,
Babies in the pool of tears
As,
Anarchy crawled in the wombs of his gun
Blood stooped and stumbled
In between his skull
Conscripting his pen of puns
Thus,
Lowering his dust and shadow
To father-earth
In the agony of eternal adventure
His bones wept
Just this morning the author died.
Awoh Kingsley Awoh
September 8th 2012
How much hate can a terrorist create?
Truck loads for those who decided my mate Deans fate
The date 12th of the 10th 2002
Two ammonium nitrate bombs blew
It was an attack by a pack of rats
Murdering my mate on holiday with the Kingsley Cats
Celebrating a grand final victory by partying in Bali
Why did it have to be?
Dam Abu Bakar Bashir, Amrozi and the rest of Jamal Islamia
These cowards intentions were clear and severe
To inflict fear on westerners and to kill Aussies just having a beer
They want to plunder
Unless they kill all of us there only gonna make us stronger the hatred can't go on any longer
Those had no cause or any remorse for using force to fight their so called "holy wars"
Which were said to be based on their religious souce
At the same time breaking their religious laws
No one should have a problem with any race colour or religion
Only a problem with any murdering individual that are in them
Weather it be Hindu, Muslim, Cathlic or Christen, black or white is no justification for a fight
The Unknown
Enforcing my authenticity because
I am a child of the Most High...
I am a citizen of Zion, concealed with zest
With my quiver full of destructive creativities
Sharpen with ingenuities
Garnished with embellished tongues of Holy Ghost pen...
I conquered territories built by self-limitations
Bringing down every high and low thought of illusory fantasy...
Bedwetting a chain of change in the history of mankind
I am the unknown, yet to be reveal
I am the revealed, yet to be understood
I stooped and shook
Swimming and soaring with minds above the region of my nose...
With new vigour, I smell the roses...
Ready to cock a snook with intellectual vagabond...
You may call me, son of a gun,
Simply because my guts outweigh your guns
I don't give a damn because
You are little in your views about me
Watch me, I am the unknown………
Awoh Kingsley
9th November, 2012
Written at the Zone A, Nigeria Customs
Harvey, Yaba, Lagos.
The Lost Diary
All this while
Had remained still in the rain
Scratching and scouting for my diary
Seeping but stucked in my senses
The lost diary
I left it in her heart
When she blew me a air of kiss
Only to be told she threw it to the
wind
But the wind denied it
Now, my heart is in a wild goose
chase
Waiting for a ship in a airport
My heart is lost and stolen
Am getting gin and din by the day
Where is my diary?
My heart is falling apart
My life is drifting to nowhere
Please, tell Fidelia to return my lost
diary....
Written by Awoh Kingsley
-dedicated to and inspired by Awoh Kingsley-
To define a friendship
Is to define each element held in a grand sea
The moments shared between the water and the single fish
The seaweed coursing in the shallow
Sinking in the deep
Through trust two can prosper
And even be happy
But when mistakes are made
Trust becomes a demand
A weapon to test each other
Trust allows that seaweed to flow
Trust can also allow the currents to bury them
Without openness that trust will falter
Like an underwater volcano
Holding all the fire in
It is bound to explode
And though water will cool it somewhat
There’s no telling how long the next explosion will take
A friend should not take his time calculating that
Instead allow words to flow
Like the gills of a fish
Allowing water in and out
Cooling and moderating forever
Filtering the bad into good
Above all, love must reign
For friendship cannot grow without it
Without love
There would be no elements in the sea
The sea would be a bottomless pit
Of nothingness
Affleck, Bailey, Banneker, Bernanke, Big, Blue,
Button, Crenshaw, Disraeli, Dover, Folds, Franklin,
Gazzara, Goodman, Graham, Harper, Harrison, Hogan,
Kingsley, Johnson, Kweller, Netanyahu, Parsons,
Roethlisberger, Spock, Stein, Stiller, Turpin, Uncle, Vereen,
… and Jerry
The Sunset
Leaning on her eyes
I saw a purple like-orange sphere
Descending from her pupils
Crisy colour with an unbeatable
beauty
Swirling the innocent blue sea
Piercing all pieces
With her tentacles stretching the
heavens
She kidnapped nature's horizons
With her shimerring and seeping
glamour
Her name is Sunset
She sets nature in motion
Feeding nectars and corals
Look at her, rising from the east
Written by Awoh Kingsley
A WALK IN THE DARK
The cold wind stung my ego
As my feet darted down the corridor of nowhere
The bitter push whipped through my skin
I slithered through the arrogant open gate
I elbowed my way into the dark world
Dinning with fear and pride along the streets and sidewalks
The sounds of the dark drums and
Strumming gongs echoed from behind
Dead skulls spewing and sparkling stench water on my face
While blood mixed with gin drooled from my chest
Like a tidal wave over a coral reef
My body shaking in a convulsing sobs
Reaching a state of total darkness
I fell into a painful and tortured trance
The moon had already sunk in the sky
I could see the gaunt solitary figure of guilt
I buried my head in the mangy fear
Crawling and groaning
Searching for Freedom
As
Sand still punched between my head body and my soul, caked with fear
I saw pain crawling all over my being
Suddenly,
Fear jerked to a stop when JESUS showed up
I could feel His touch even in the deepest dark
New buds of hope spring forth
Illumination poked my doubt
With a live coal, he touched my lips,
And my eking miserable existence in the dark world turned to light
Today, I walked through the balcony of light and life
With head high and future assured
Have you got Jesus?
Written by Awoh Kingsley Awoh
Dated: 25th January, 2013
Time: 2.15am
Location: Lagos