How can I forget you?
How can I forget you ?,
when I only know YOU;
Drizzle on every plant they may say,
but only your leaf has my happiest dew.
To term you as my belief,
has an immeasurable sigh of relief;
The mental occupancy at the end of the day,
has only "us" beyond the bay.
How can I forget you ,
when I wish to see only YOU;
Everyday is what I desire for your glimpse,
but the moon turns rarely blue.
To wait for you now and then,
defining my love infact taller than the big ben;
Has now become the desired course of way ,
you may not hear sometimes but my love will always say.
How can I forget you ,
when I hear only YOU;
If being devoted to you is a crime ,
the legal processes could make me sew.
The day the world will comprehend ,
the world would see us as heavenly send ;
Fortune favours again I say,
If the night is you : I don't wish to see the next day.
A RESURRECTING REFLECTION ON TODAY’S TRIBULATIONS
Confirming its intent
And what it all meant
The POTUS spoke loudly
With very proud temerity
Of making a mockery
Out of chattel slavery
By invading another country
With evil military occupancy
Controlling its humanity
And its rich resources
With his powerful armed forces:
But let us not be dismayed
Over this power-mongering raid
That God’s retribution will overcome
This demonic decision that was made:
This crucifying, unjust political insurrection
Will likewise be met with justice’s resurrection
And the ascension of God’s divine wisdom and guidance
Navigating us in life along a pathway of divine benevolence:-
A JULY 4TH REFLECTION: 2025
It’s July fourth,
And the POTUS seeks
Elimination
Of immigration
In America,
Although his parents
Immigrated here:
Father coming from
Hilter’s Germany
Which id the womb
Of the fascistic type
Of politics of
The POTUS today,
In his bigoted
Power mongering
Issuing of laws
That are so unjust;
And forcing Congress
To pass likewise laws
To ensure making
This land great again,
In its mockery
Of independence
And justice for all,
In this so-called land
Of democracy,
Built on land severed
From indigenous
Free occupancy;
How strange this must be
Following Juneteenth
And for descendants
Of who this land was:
Hey, it’s July fourth,
Independence day
In America;
Have a blessful day
In celebrating
In divine wisdom
And its clear guidance
In making this land
Again, the land of
The free, with justice
And equality
For all who live here
In God’s onederful
Oneness of onement:-
Rampancy is AI's path to gaining humanity, don't let it happen to you.
Viruses of rampancy, people of complacency
artificial stupidity and tendency of reliency
Power of data trumping over human concurrency
supraventricular electrical impulses, non-consistency !
Keypad touch, mobile infancy absorbing frequency
we are lost in the path of dependency
A colony of monotonous beings, unilateral efficiency
communicative only on screen the act of flippancy
The soul and heart of us have lost their tendency
to communicate with word proficiency
We have become sedentary, lost in robotic Influency
and our cel phone is a continuous absorbency
Don't let this artificial world cause you despondency
your spirit is in an urgent state of emergency
Unplug, go meet nature and lose your dependency
talk to one another and give computers less occupancy.
Some nightmares find you
while you are sleeping
Others apprehend you
in the midday sun
Some nightmares seize you
and pull you into the darkness
from where you stand
in the midday sun
Those are the type of nightmares
that freeze my blood
Those are the types of midday dreams
where everything is nothing
and nothing is as it seems
Those are the type of nightmare
that drives me to my knees in prayer
beside myself in fear of the midday sun
A mind fractured
and cast away into the sun
There they appear; those apprehensions
legions of haunting apparitions
with malevolent intentions
those which freeze me in solitude
in the heat of the afternoon sun
I am screaming
I am clawing
Am I screaming?
Am I clawing?
Who is that pounding!
Who is that pounding at my walls?!
That is my monster
that which fosters
occupancy in my thoughts
A nightmare
This is what pursues me
That is what moves me
and keeps me awake
screaming at myself
at the top of my lungs
in the heat of the midday sun.
Did you hear that pleasing sound?
Or rather a musical note unheard before.
It’s heard when the mind is free
Free from the mundane mental occupancy
The note is a drift away from daily dilapidations
That further deteriorate the already decaying mind
It’s time, it’s time to stop and start,
Stop the rush, stop the rigorous thinking we subject ourselves to
Start the stay, start the stay in the cocoon of Mother Nature
Here’s where we will hear that note, which keeps ringing
It’s sublime, it’s omnipresent, it’s super powerful
It’s unforcefully forceful
It’s forever heard, it’s forever unheard
It can ring in pleasure, it can bring in peace
It’s seeping in through creeks
It’s what Our Mother Nature Speaks.
The movers came to clean out my house,
And said to one another
“Let’s remove ALL the furniture!
The baby carriage and accessories
have served their purpose.
That old stuff is nothing but clutter now.
Don’t let the mother see us
take everything out.
She might want to save her heirlooms:
uterus, cervix, tubes and ovaries.
They really must go,
and it’s better to move them all at once.
Let’s make it quick.
We’ve got other cleaning jobs today, too.”
My baby’s room is empty.
The movers sealed off the space and left.
Where did my baby furniture go?
Was it handled with utmost care?
Will it be reused or recycled?
As owner for decades,
why did I believe their “better out than in”
prevention strategy and problem-solving remedy?
Who decided that I could live
without furniture anyway?
Will that area of my house shrink
for lack of occupancy?
Will the vacuum bring ecstasy, grief or pain?
Will the plumbing to my bathroom expand?
Hist er rec to me!
Does anyone understand why the head of my house
grapples with questions at hand?
My love has never been for sale
I've rented it out on occasion
Most often the arrangement ended
in a turbulent eviction
There were tenants seeking only temporary occupancy
They fled undercover of night
back into their darkness of deceptive intention.
Others unwilling to conform to
restrictions of a lease
with clauses of commitment.
Leaving in search of a more flexible arrangement.
Then there was you
Without bribe or allurement
You seduced my resolve
In full view of my heart's dauntless safeguards
Such a skilled thief and benevolent larcenist
You stole my heart
Because I was unable to give it.
A crime commited in the name of endearment.
The playground gates are open
And folks can eat outdoors
In restaurants and bars, as well as
Shop inside of stores.
Salons and barbershops will make
Appointments for their cuts
But masks must be in place, of course,
No ifs or ands or buts.
Though offices may now begin
To welcome back their staff,
The occupancy at one time
Cannot be more than half.
The city’s slowly crawling back,
Yet normal it is not.
I guess we should appreciate
The “normal” that we’ve got.
Daylight slips in and out
of yellowing curtains,
as the sun blinks.
At such times
her thoughts
appear and disappear
The old lady has planted
her mind in closets
where dreams wither,
in kitchen cupboards
where herbs and spices dust the dark.
She will leave what she can;
small packets once gardened
when she cared to cook.
It is coming -
a change of occupancy.
She senses strange feet
and slamming doors,
young laughter runs in and out
of her breathing space.
Until then, she is here
in her last chair
in a memory-seeded apartment,
listening to the history
of her tucked-away life.
Silent world
For decades
The world has
Refuse to pay homage
To it root .
It been so long
We ever visited home
No wonder peace
Is never among us
We already destroyed
It occupancy
We already disobeyed
And neglect
It benefits
Now we wallow
In our own nemesis
The world can
Never be good
And sweet
With out peace
So for decades
For so long
We are suffering
And too many
Are burning in a
Silent world
When we chose silent
To evil
We burn with it flames
At it end
Let remember
To build our mother land
Let remember to build our home
Our root is from Africa.
Am referring to every human
Parents, siblings, all gone in a Raid
Such is the way of insect populations
Every bug has its day when sprayed
One escapes, clings on to life up high
A little fiend makes my house its home
Looms stark against the pure white ceiling
A contrast in black dressed in ancient armor
There is no contract, no rental agreement
Insects can not live here for free
How do I send it an eviction vacate notice
I don't speak bug. It does not speak English
Never will it leave this room alive
I hold a rolled up magazine ready
If it moves an inch I'll strike it dead
Always in my sight, I never rest
So help me God just let it animate
Give me strength to be more vigilant
For years now I watch the bug not move
Never once has it blinked or flinched
Perhaps its sleeping or something else
Plotting a take over of my house
To avoid rental fees and ceiling cost
Prodigal ways die hard when you're a bug
Such wasteful and extravagant creatures
Sooner or later it will have to pay or leave
Or sign a five year lease, no pets allowed
At least that's how I see it in my house
the future is a check that might bounce
but this moment we’ve just moved into
still smelling of fresh paint
is already taking on a lived-in charm
we’ll go on furbishing it as we go along then
here with red paint of lips on lips
there with a mirror of eyes lost in eyes
words deep-piled and moans deep-throated
and thoughts hugging like bodies hugging like
dimmed lights hug the walls
and matching heartbeats
matchmade by a tiptoeing ballad
this moment is ready for our full occupancy
it has nothing to prove
except us
let’s stay here for a while
and boycott the ever after
ARTEFACTS
A working clock makes a house look lived-in, occupancy-wise;
A lit bulb makes occupants look unwilling to compromise.
The room is occupied
Because someone is doing
Their occupation
They are the occupant
When they talk about occupancy
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