Through My Writing

Much cluster in my brain

Which is really so fragile

That I write to be serene

Getting rid of thoughts

Positive or negative

They need to be saved

Rather not in memory

To prevent craziness

Due to the huge volume

But on paper instead

For authenticity matters

Expressing the moments

Based on true feelings

That will not get confused

Nor misinterpreted anyhow

While printed in hard copy

The message is very clear

It will never get lost soon

Because even whenever I die

I shall remain alive forever

Through my writing

The Octopus

When she was young, she used to hang out without a hand out in a shell she had found to hide

in from predators out there to cease her precious life. Now she has grown older, she became

one of them and does the hunting. I got captured in the razor sharp of this octopus by surprise

after being surrounded by her tentacles full of suckers to satisfy her three hearts without

knowing what my fate would be. She has surely changed and does not fear no more nor does

she care about anybody else’s life. Ignorant of her actions, she hugs me with her eight arms

prior to inject me with her poison known to be a deadly venom. Initially, I thought it was out of

love before I knew she was up to no good at all. She defies her parental history, today she

has a conscience of her own. As any cephalopod, she uses her big head a lot. It helps her

move waving in the deep waters and digest the food due to its emptiness. Don’t take me

wrong though, I’ve seen her in action! While swimming, she extends her long flexible arms in

search of greens, seeds and I don’t know what else. However, she’s generally after wallets

and manhoods. She thinks I’m an easy prey to feed on that she comes after the only heart

I’ve got. Although she forces me, the bottom line is: I can’t love her if I have to be chased

around or be devoured by the viscous undersea creature immensely vicious whom she truely is.

People have tried to catch her but when trapped, she always finds a way to flee for an escape,

therefore beware!

A Woman's Drama

I try smiling to guys but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm ugly;

I try dieting to look good but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm fat;

I try enjoying life fully but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm pregnant;

I try listening to wolves in sheep skins but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm naive.

I try loving those I can't trust but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm divorced;

I try making it to the next payday but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm poor;

I try growing up to mature but when I wake up and look in the mirror;

OMG, I'm old.

Spirit It Is

Within the brain walls resides the mind while in the neighborhood the soul pounds in every pulse of the heart;

The spirit channels through the whole body diffusing from up there to down here linking mind and soul;

This power supply feeds electrical current to the bulb that lights up and shine the room;

It is constantly torn apart between them two which continuously battle to gain sole control;

The top is the crop growing field and the bottom is the reservoir, albeit the in-between is the transporter;

A phone call is made between two receivers and these really close siblings converse for a long time;

When lost, the above or the beneath, your network gets derailed and deranged;

The loss of one causes overproduction when for the other it is overdraft;

The prior rains till flood, the latter dries till drought;

The stated pair has only been established to become mortal though spirit always was eternal;

Spirit got into us via the mind opening to rest seated on the soul;

In origin of times, the flesh was born with mind and soul pretty empty;

As it grows, they mature to get full at death;

Do you know the downside? I bet you don't or forgot;

Well, only the soul is to be harvested;

It gets out with the spirit's help that becomes the tail and the propeller;

Mind that was, soul to be, spirit it is.

They Say It's Black History Month

They say it's Black History Month,

It seems to be only one month;

They say it's Black History Month,

It is actually every month;

They say it's Black History Month,

I think of conflicts;

They say it's Black History Month,

I feel for reconciliation;

They say it's Black History Month,

I live in the past;

They say it's Black History Month,

I deny the future;

They say it's Black History Month,

I remember how I hated you;

They say it's Black History Month,

I blame your ancestors;

They say it's Black History Month,

It's a matter of black and white;

They say it's Black History Month,

It was never about other colors;

They say it's Black History Month,

I don't know what really happened;

They say it's Black History Month,

I'm in need to learn more;

They say it's Black History Month,

I guess I'm too African to be black;

They say it's Black History Month,

I guess I'm too black to be African;

They say it's Black History Month,

We talk about slavery;

They say it's Black History Month,

We forget about colonialism;

They say it's Black History Month,

It's the shortest month of the year;

They say it's Black History Month,

It's the cruelest era of all times;

They say it's Black History Month,

It's the white that wrote our history;

They say it's Black History Month,

I guess it's too late to change anything;

They say it's Black History Month,

It seems too far away now;

They say it's Black History Month,

I can't move on with my life;

They say it's Black History Month,

I was in a cage yesterday;

They say it's Black History Month,

I'm somewhat free today.

Passion or Experience

Passion is what you succumb to and experience what you die for;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is succulent and experience has an aftertaste;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is the pulse and experience is the resonance;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is the beat and experience is the rhythm;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is the lyric and experience is the song;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is romance and experience is indifference;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is so innocent and experience is too guilty;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is what your spirit puts out there and experience is what your memory recollects;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is what brings you to a relationship and experience is what keeps you in or drives you out of it;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion rejuvenates all the time and experience stays old forever;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is clandestine and experience is out in the open;

Passion or experience, I don't know;

Passion is fast and warm and experience is cold and slow;

Passion or experience, you tell me.



To be continued for PART-2