Sink

Memories

Of Jamborees

Enemies of victories

Disturbances 

Of consequences

Why do i see all these
The smell of all that sin still lingers

And yet all that is in the past

I see the blood

Falling to the sink

Soon there will be

No trace of this
Oh Lord, only your eyes can say these things

Rinse off my soul 

Heal me of the guilt I bear

All I’ve seen

Gave me all these scars

I would heal

If I was not a monster

So pray for me, before you idolize me

I may not be all that I seem
The smell of all that sin still lingers

And yet all that is in the past
I see the blood

Falling to the sink

Soon there will be

No trace of this
Oh Lord, only your eyes can say these things

Rinse off my soul 

Heal me of the guilt I bear

Purple Rage

Its boiling up from within me, like am a pot of hot fatigue soup and there’s no one to turn off the heat so I seethe till my lips auto-pout in indignation. I’ve danced past the darkness, couple of times, and heard the clock’s comfort, couple of chimes, but the talks have ticked me off. I can’t stay a second hour under the minutes of stark raving crap.
My heart beats me black and blue

Funny though I still retain my hue

Giving respect where I knew it due

But they don’t return it to you, its true

Falling down the stares folding into my rage

Maybe if I write these down I can flip the page.

I still have those thoughts and desires

Those passions and fires

The pictures and videos

Pointed pun scenarios

And its getting easier to sigh and shrug

Soldier anthills swept beneath the rug
I give praise to God for my earphones

They’re a swift escape from these zones

And sleep comes knocking every now and then,

Taking me out like a punch and then ten.
Hmmm…

Blurred Comings

*Blurred Comings*
Where are the lines I etched in the sands of time- and the rules that I wrote on the walls of my heart?
My gut has got the last of me, and guts have spilled as I retreat. I lost the battles I won to Three for her birthday. And yet regret is tea I have no bread for.
There will be scars, there will be ruins, there will be seas leaking from my love’s cauldron. Who still uses cauldron sef?
This, however, is not remotely the end. Throw me back into the fight; until I lose the eyes that refer to me, and the nose that mean I have knowledge…until I lose the ears that each have a calendar and fingers with which to make a point, there will be no white flags, I have died them all ‘read’. There will be no hands up, I do that only to God. I will pendulum until the watches of my night tick off the son in me.
Then I, dressed in mistakes, sitting at the place called ‘Long Last’, crowned with the weight of a thousand worlds, because heavy is the head that wears my crown; will rise in the east and the west. The North will shout at the effervescent glare I emit, and I will smile…
…because I am victorious, like Tori…
…and I wont be alone. We wont end, from these skirmishes, or the blades that Wesley snipes at our necks. We are ‘The Vampires’ and we drank the blood of God. We wont end from these hiccups, or the hungers ice screams are children of. We wont end from Babylon, and the minions she sends to degrade us. 
This is not our graveyard, this is not our Alamo, this is not our Nagasaki, nor is this the noose to our Okonkwo.
We will colonize the ‘Here’ they thought would end us, and when we win we’ll endorse the mottos whose journeys end thus.
Tell them in your class, we are done taking over. We are Vikings to these islands and our spears are the dreams they tried to wake us up from. We look down at their roofs. They should fear us, but they dont know…
Well, we will remind them, we are tomorrow. We are the future and we have passed these presents in the name of…
…In the Name of…
…the name of…
Life.
We…wont..end. We are eternal, like they forgot we are, like they forgot they are.
So call Tomorrow, wake up those dreams, tell them we wont end here, tell them were coming.

They say time will tell…we say, ‘Jesus has told.’
Already we know.

#SPILLOVERSATURDAY

Tomorrow is Thursday

​Sitting in the office listening to Sarkodie

Sitting in the office heart steady aiming there

Once upon a Quchi, Mpape was my city

Now I got magic, call it audacity
Now am humble as I tick off the stages

Now they wonder what number this my age is

My crushes still stare at me, diabolical

The victories line up, illogical
The war is on, yep, buh we won em all

There were kisses in the past buh we blew em all
The ladies win though, shopping malls

Funny punning only here to make you doubt it all
Rapping for me is still a borrowed pose

Check our matter you can see somebody nose

The Word is our medicine, we overdose

Yeah we Stuck in heaven and hell is growing cold
Winning souls like they’re subs and eleven

Ecumenical meetings, hands raised in the dozens

When you don’t know bro you should talk less

I am hidden in Christ, light, like the Sun’s chest
Writing till I sleep I still hill like Bopeep 

Jesu in Quchi like you when you spell it

God is my Papa, by faith that he born it

I am not alone and my people? We still burn it!