There’s nothing like a beauty of rose
Especially when you just can’t look at her
For she’s the most attractive
Good-looking lady nature ever created.
The most stunning and lovely
Every, even the angels loves her soul
For she isn’t a goddess but
Gorgeous than any you can ever mention.
I travelled through cities
Cities with trepidations
Cities painted with insurgency.
I travelled via air and boarded a bus
First bad weather and then rough roads
Falling into the deepest contours.
I travelled for a mission
To show her results of little boys’ vision
The outcome and the latest visible ray version.
I travelled for several years
Today I arrived; today I heard,
The bible has an unholy version…
I travelled all days
Today I arrived; today I heard
That she got married a minute ago.
In my growing blissful life
Poetry got her justice,
Biochemistry speaks in metabolism
This two girls attracts angels to earth
But decisions in a dilemma are irrational
The Devil cries in whispers.
PVC I gaze;
Searching for Einstein’s masterpiece
Anything: cowrie or white chalk
Day and night she stares at me
While I bang and yell for
Biochemistry to open the door.
Continence of love crested over me
Deep down downstream
It flows through my vein
Love baron; I play its dirty game
My habit’s addict opioids; no shame
In its zone I don’t need no naloxone.
Smoking hot; this love can cook a stone
So I always carve spot in her hotpot
Dwelling in love pot is so germ free
Detest love denial and express it
Don’t de-foliate the leaves on a wet root.
Eyes so shy; I can’t even stare
Well written over me; the blind sees.
Bone digging and deep eating
Love is a drug: use, disuse and abuse
Baron of beef the honey bee I choose,
Signalling; when I’m looking at a pumpkin”.
Even the waters have a run-off
Nothing is pure in a mere sense
Don’t antagonise nevertheless
Life is a no ink pen if love is bench
Even the fire complement the smoke
So smokers smoke never to get choke.
Valleys or mountains; let me surf
Happy is when love falls on a tongue
Down the aisle is where you find the drunk
Stinking; when they talk their breathe does
Call them an addict; heart is loose
Addiction is the countenance of love
That is what they will always choose.’
In the bus while heading away
From the light of the nation,
To the finger of God
After the battle; a normal occupation
I observed the feeling; a peaceful illusion
When I closed my eyes, calm I became an ocean
Free from worries and trepidation
Lighter and lighter I held imagination
In my head, a pen and paper illustration
Up and down the bus rolled-
Along the road my eyes still close
Not asleep but I researched
Never understand; never had a dream
Or taken the time to correlate this.