What’s Best?

God will make a weigh,
and sometimes,
as a result of the result,
He may not make a way.

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The Wounded Healer

Her words are deep, and perhaps, far too deep, because they do not come from her heart. She writes and speaks with passion only because her words come from the pitch of her stomach. As these words travel up her torso, they avoid her heart like a plague.

Yemoja.png

“Yemoja” [Artist Unknown]

Her heart is severely wounded, so she strives to protect her words from blood stains. She chooses not to release the words that live in her heart because they are filled with pain.

She is hurt
and she is weak
and she is dying slowly,
but it’s not for her listeners who need healing to see…

I AM beINg PAtIeNt

I hope you’ll see sooner,
that I am your other,
that we ought to be together,
that we can make each other stronger.
I can be your healer,
and you can be my lover,
and vice-versa.
I’ve loved you since I was much younger,
and I’ll love you forever.

Sunny Moon. Moony Sun.

She’s like the sun.
You go too close to her, and you burn.
You go too far away from her, and you freeze to death.

She’s like the moon.
You go too close to her, and you’re blind in your fantasy.
You go too far away from her, and you can’t see.
You can’t see a thing; you can’t dream.

You stay right where you should be,
and she glows for you.
She’s half-sun and half-moon.
Queen.
Half-sun and half-moon.
Me.

Greed-White-Greed

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Green-White-Green.
The ‘green’ dey plenty
but the ‘white’ no reach,
upon say we dey preach.

Daddy is the first “green”,
mummy is the second,
and the “white” is their son- Junior;
all his decisions are made for him.

His birth name is Purity,
but they barely call him that,
and his opinions almost never matter.
“Junior, sit down there.”
“Junior, excuse us;
go out to play with your friends.”
“Junior, the adults are talking;
you ought to walk away.”
“Junior, cover your ears.”

We say “the young shall grow”, abi?
It’s one of our favourite quotes.
Our hope is that one day,
Junior will grow to be a strong man.
A pure-in-heart woman will marry him.
They’ll give birth to a gorgeous daughter;
she’ll be very “green”,
and she’ll grow to be big and strong.
Our new flag will be “white-green-white”.

Green wouldn’t need to cover her ears;
there would be no need to.
We would have a new country;
our leaders would do what they should do.

“White-Green-White.
Na only ‘white’ we dey see,
but the ‘green’ no reach,
sake of say we no rich.”

You can agree that
the above won’t happen,
and you can disagree,
but wetin be the point of the wealth,
if na only few people rich.
Wetin be the point of the wealth
if they no dey share the money-
if they no let the money reach?


If we do am make the money reach everybody, nobody go rich, but you know as e dey go now. Everybody wan rich.

Socialism means- nobody gets rich, and we’re all equal, wealth-wise. This can’t work in reality. Capitalism means- some people get rich, but some people stay poor.

Either way, some people are not going to be rich.

Does nihilism come with socialism? You know you can’t be richer than you are anyway, so what is the point of aspiring to achieve anything if you can’t get the ultimate reward (whether or not it’s gotten at the expense of others)- wealth?

Everything is designed to be fucked up in one way and another.

Push Through

This is the legend of Gbàdà,
the favourite of his former owner.

One day, his chains were removed,
and he was declared a free man.
In excitement, he began to dance,
on the broad road by the plantation,
all day, and all night,
and he hasn’t stopped since then.
He doesn’t know where home is;
he doesn’t know what home was.

He’s been released, but he’s not free yet;
he’ll be free when he stops dancing.
The blindfold’s off but he can’t see yet;
he’ll see when he stops laughing,
when he stops crying,
when he starts moving,
when he starts trying.

Maybe one day, he’ll get home,
if he doesn’t dance himself to death.
The name “Freeman” is as bad as “Ransome”;
he needs very thorough rebirth.

Desper-hate

HUMAN SACRIFICES AND SHEET:

When he ordered drinks for us,
I could tell that he was hurt.

“I’m with another woman,
an other woman,
a ‘not her’ woman,
but by God, any woman will do.”

“What do you mean?”, I asked.

He looked away.

“I couldn’t get Queen out of my head;
someone else had to.
I couldn’t get Queen out of my bed;
I needed a rescue.