He came bearing
a polished memoir,
wrapped in the grammar of duty,
stitched carefully
with the threads of allegiance.
The pages marched proudly—
disciplined, measured,
dressed in the language
of statecraft and survival.
Yet beneath the polished sentences,
ghosts wandered barefoot.
The ashes still remembered
the names of children
history buried too quickly.
Mothers still carried
silence like broken calabashes
upon their heads.
And the rivers of the East—
they have not forgotten.
For memory is stubborn.
It sleeps lightly.
It wakes
at the sound of old justifications.
He spoke of unity,
of difficult choices,
of burdens carried
for the preservation of a nation.
But nations are not preserved
by eloquence alone.
Sometimes history kneels,
not for defense,
but for repentance.
And so the book arrived
like rain that touched the earth
without entering it.
For many sons and daughters
of the red soil,
it sounded less
like a full reckoning
and more
like a door left half-open—
an incomplete confession
standing quietly
before a wounded generation
still waiting
for language heavy enough
to carry sorrow.
Men spend time stalking...
The future Ms right.
Women spend... talking-
The moment's tough night.
Men fail through the worst,
When serious game plays.
Women fail through thirst,
When night's might delays...
Men struggle with Ruth,
The one doubt surveys.
Women struggle truth...
The one Haggai blaze.
Men best days love jail;
Women best days bail.
I can feel my heart
like a sponge having the fluids squeezed out of it
held in a tight grip that does not relent
the breaths I take are small
my chest is too compressed
I am broken into pieces, fragmented
every piece different part of me
trying to put myself back together
but there are pieces I just cannot pick up
when I do they cut me and I bleed
How can I pick up the other pieces if I let them cut me
The cracks these pieces form when I put them together,
they make my surface rough
I am always aware that I am not in one piece
and the holes left by the pieces I cannot bring myself to pick up
will always remind me how incomplete I am
no matter how much I try
what's left is left, and I will always be a broken vessel.
Cantankerous cancers found my blood letting from the slit,
Is it avarice of me to desire the love begetting of Lazarus?
Enjoying life cadaverous like forgetting the want to live,
Is it glamorous for me to die while God desires I live?
Forgo the solid ground,
My feet dangled off the edge of a jagged cliff.
I fought the howl of squalid sin,
I caught the wind sending back the fire of my padded spliff.
Below I spotted a town,
My feet angled to squish what I saw down to the earth’s crusty skin.
Got calls asking where I’ve been.
Like,
“Just,
Just been wondering.”
Yeah yeah.
Yeah,
I guess you’ve just been wondering?
Could’ve made it better before I made it end,
Would’ve,
Should’ve,
But I wouldn’t have liked to make amends.
A couple foot of rope set up to further suspend,
Just to be an easy way out for whoever he is?
I misunderstood a friend on what is perpetuity,
I just want to live forever,
Instead I pretend to breathe on incongruity.
And as I descend upon,
I felt alive again when I grew dizzy.
I felt alive,
In my life,
I felt alive as I grew dizzy.
How did this happen
lying in bed
feeling nothing
being nothing
incomplete.
You are the dream,
I dared to see,
albeit knowing my somber eyes
might be daydreaming for a while.
You are the song,
I dared to sing,
hoping the world won't comprehend
your imperfect lyrics the way I did.
You, calm as evening breeze,
I let you touch my soul,
when mundane days of life
made me look for left pieces of peace,
You, my broken beloved,
I let my heart witness you like a miracle,
without thinking how beyond repair
you might leave me.
You are that incomplete poem,
I happened to scribble effortlessly,
hiding my silent sighs of chaotic longing
behind pale poetic verses.
You are my north star so far away,
I wish to wish upon,
that someday you'll be the beautiful end
to my ceaseless waiting.
"Incomplete"
I drown in your love
there is another world
underneath
in the depths of your kiss
our minds meet
caressing along curves
silky blue
the satine currents
azure sky and storms
I see me
open and
reflected in you
tasting the rolling
rapture reaching
your crystalline bed
diving for pearls
you are
a coded parable
worth exploring
a fathomless ocean
with tides calling me
incomplete
unfathomable
your movements
inconsistent
consistently
immovable
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
human condition
feeling a sense of lack
seeks change and so strives
we are here
wish to be elsewhere
but imagination too is limited
analysis is paralysis
so best cease thinking
and mindfully begin feeling
unfed ego recedes
light of our soul dawns
we restart life from the scratch
Redolent, posh lyrics have hidden flaws.
Surrounded by a rusty sapphire sanctuary
That dampened the beauteous bronze glow.
Gold-sparkly afterglows can be sumptuary.
Surrounded by a rusty sapphire sanctuary
with acidic pollens and nervous neon wisps
Gold-sparkly afterglows can be sumptuary.
built an array of dark and wicked tale tips.
With acidic pollens and nervous neon wisps
Where platinum wings are tightly encased,
built by an array of dark and wicked tale tips.
With ash, in the dawn of solace, unlaced.
Where platinum wings are tightly encased,
I wake anxious, wailing rain, loving the flute.
With ash, in the dawn of solace, unlaced.
Melding dark poem of doom into wool toot.
I wake anxious, wailing rain, loving the flute.
That dampened the beauteous bronze glow.
Melding dark poem of doom into wool toot.
Redolent, posh lyrics have hidden flaws.
Written: January 27, 2023
Life is with halves replete,
No one real thing complete,
As things gladly deplete
And these sadly repeat:
Someone could include heat
And a drunk wet soil peat
I : a rock-n-roll beat
And clothes sewn from long sheet,
Because they at last shrink
And go ahead to stink;
My prestige starts to sink…
Things have been incomplete
And often this we meet.
Keep your morning informed
With a piece of newspaper
Stay connected with the rest of the world
Besides your small confined self-centred world
Stay up-to-date with
The critical news
The breaking news
The latest news
The in-depth reports
Like dropping a bombshell into a dull world
But news can't simply be surfaced
Without evidence of a witness
Or some physical proofs
Or else it will be charged
But a piece of news after
A long court case or a suspension
Is no more first-hand
And no more attracting
And a piece of news incomplete
Is no more a reflection of the truth
A piece of newspaper will gradually become
A piece of tissue paper,wrapping paper or waste paper
And the world will simply forget it
As a past event or a piece of history
The world won't learn any lesson
As it is no more news by tomorrow
Is it true there’s a balance in death when one gives birth?
Can you imagine a life without death?
It’s not much fun for a dog without rabies,
Imagine a world without enemies…
What actually is pleasure without pain?
Is it wise enough to make sales without gain?
What other reason has philanthropy if not fame?
How can I shoot points when I’ve got no aim!
Would it have been fun if Adam lived alone in the garden?
Would it be alright if a man never marries a maiden?
What's the essence of a scary movie if not to frighten?
Of what beauty has life, if there’re no enemies to threaten?
Would there be a living soul without a flesh?
I do not think there’re friend who never for once fought,
Ever wondered how it’ll be where there’s no food in a Nigerian wedding,
How happy is a couple without their little offsprings…
- Lyrical_phenom
they climb the hills fast
plants trees blooms birds animals ...
we stand still and watch
16 March 2022
Feeling incomplete and confined
In darkness, we flounder
Try as we might, truth not divined
Head and heart asunder
If we choose, to be still
God’s touch, all voids does fill
Bliss then does overspill
Singing out of beat
Feeling incomplete
02-December-2021
Quietus
Sub Categories
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