A poem is
poem of multiple essence.
A bird's hoot,
a fecund instant,
flash of inspiration ...
A lamb bleat
before the sacrifice,
a childhood cry
before the blowjob
A fallen petal,
a note between notes
a drummer that plays
feasting the glory ...
It is the awakening of the dawn
releasing the apotheosis
of this flame that does not die ...
It is an angel without wings in the earth,
OLD CHILDREN
Oya choose!
E don reach our turn
Ben abi na Benz
Desk job abi na blowjob
Sweat pint abi sell pants
Hustle Ikeja abi form Ikoyi
Na success abi na sex
Nothing new again!
Our old children get heart
Nor gree sleep cot
Use Belle face shortcut
Follow friends begin join cult
Carry cutlass start to cut
Begin claim Innocent for court
Old children take time!
Who one buy Benz, work!
If u dey donate blowjob, go marry!
If you one sell pant, open boutique!
Who one stay Ikoyi, hustle!
E go soon shock una
For d kind tin wey una go harvest
©Kporho Vwede Daniel
+2347067333949
Ig: General_Ali_official
All rights reserved.
And when I’m rich, I’ll have gold taps and teeth
a Harley, a Bentley, and a Cadillac too;
and I’ll pay three hookers to parade around the
kitchen, all morning, in the nude; it’s where I’m happiest
then in the afternoon, three ladies from the church will come,
to teach me about goodness, and how to cope without a drink
and a blowjob
and I’ll invite the establishment and the greens, in their faded
blue jeans, to Carnegie Hall; and I’ll sit at a table with a cold beer,
and a copy of Guns and Ammo, and I’ll stand up and say,
“OK, let’s have some fun, let’s write poetry, and if they couldn’t,
I’d tell them, “that’s OK, Haiku, Rhymes, or verse will do.”
two marionettes
dancing on the screen
with the elite hands
teetering them in
front of us all &
we can’t see the
puppet masters
but we get to hear the
talking heads
blathering
blathering
blathering,
boasting of
supposed differences
than what has come
before, with pockets
full & absent of
personal worry,
with healthcare &
a life of happiness for
their families, with
wealth to pass on,
without the problems
of those they preach to
like priests in front of
the sheep pretending
there is a promised land,
like prostitutes asking
for the wad full of bills
after that first
vital blowjob &
the sheep ba ba ba
cause they want to hear
more &
they will,
because after all,
this is just the first
debate.