Rainy P

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Rainy peace

It’s raining. Oh how I love the rain.,

I wish I could be outside, with my pen and jotter
Rain drops patter on the the rooftops, the thunder scaring the kids and the faint hearted
All the birds and usually noisy creatures keep silent in awe
The lightning, brightening the skies, in a crooked line preceding the loud thunder,
 Oh what art, what’s not to be inspired by..
There’s so much beauty..
There’s the accompanying cool breeze, nothing  a cup of hot tea wouldn’t fix,
 please don’t stop, I say to the rain in my mind
Keep falling, the heat has been scorching, you however, have been a panacea.
My tumultuous mind is calmed, turmoil replaced with serenity
I feel like the rain is natures way of washing me clean.
Yet again, rains could destroy!
Homes have been swept away, towns have sunk , vehicles have somersaulted , loved ones lost, all in a futile effort to withstand the rain in all its might
How could a phenomenon so calming, be also so destructive?
It’s the paradox called life, exemplified in the dual nature of rain.
Perhaps just an extension of already understood phenomena, salt makes food tasty, yet excess renders food inedible, religion helps us to understand and deal with things, excessive practice and ” belief” could lead to fanaticism and possible terrorism
Now the rain has stopped, as usual I’m inspired, and it has taught me a moral..
Moderation!!
 
 
 
 
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Lover’s Spat

I hate you ! she screamed
How could you, I trusted you..
Why would you cheat on me,is she better than me? she asked
I figured it was a rhetoric, so I kept mute
My facial expression was bland, wondering what she knew,reflecting on what she’d said..
You’re evil, you act so calm and innocent, but I know you’re not
You’re not worth my time,I should have known! She fumed
Her face even now, was pretty as ever,her tears filled me with guilt..
I then reached for her,”baby” I started
Don’t you call me that, don’t you dare touch me, randy dog,its not your fault..
In spite of her anger, you could still tell she was thoroughbred..
I wanted to kiss her, hold her, tell her I loved her, tell her that it was nothing, just a fling, it was a while back, I was high on booze, lonely, we were quarreling, and the babe was loose..
But I couldn’t say a word, I was tongue tied, filled with guilt, my face expressionless, masked..
I don’t ever want to see you again she continued, you’ve lost my trust
What’s the point of us? The slut had the guts to tell me she was the one you really loved
That you bought her stuff, that you guys made out all the time, that you told her u she was your muse !
I can’t believe I let her finish her speech, but I did,and I’m glad..
But this was too much, this was going too far, I love her, but I’m no wimp,I had to do do some damage control,for me, for all the cheating men out there..
So I told her, baby, you’ve got to listen to me,I’ve got everything to lose..
You’re my world, my love, my heart, the reason I’m sane, you’re why I wanna be married, don’t be sad, don’t talk of leaving, I’d be dead..
I’m not going to say its a lie, I’m a fool, I know. Don’t be cruel
I know I hurt you, you must know, nothing compares to what we share,don’t listen to those fools..
Fools who don’t know what we’ve been through, who have got no clue
You’re the ying to my yang, the lace to my shoes,I can’t bear the thought of losing you, mother of my yet unborn kids, that you’re thinking this makes me scared..
She had been quiet, listening to my tirade,suddenly she’s in my arms sobbing,kissing me, pressing my head to her generous bosom,”I love you so much” she whispers, her eyes closed..
Then she asks, baby, did you do it? Tell me the truth..
I look her straight in the eye, and tell her, my voice quivering, “never listen to anyone trying to spoil what we share” I’ll never put you through this again, I said..
Don’t dwell on myth, think of what we’ve built..
She kisses me full on the lips, again I’ve escaped the guillotine , I sigh inwardly to myself, why do I put myself through this sh*t, damn, was I scared..
I promise myself not for the first or second time, I’ll never cheat on my lady again..this time I’ll try harder, this shall be my creed, my rule..
or not….

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My wonder

There’s always some problem to ponder..
Always some issue,some money they launder..
Love that did not get fonder..
Marriages that went asunder..
Enough says I, like sango and his thunder..
Let us speak peace, love to one another..
why is that so hard? to myself I wonder..
Help everyone, be kind to a sister, to a brother..
Give food to the hungry, let the weak and helpless lean on your shoulder..
If we share, then everything becomes more abundant..
Forget the hate, gather more fodder
Because truly, the greatest craving, is to love and or be loved by another

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Writer’s bloc and a pint

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I’ve had writers block..

I  have neither felt like writing nor reading 
I’d rather just laze around and pass the bulk
Usually I’m the guy who hates time to go wasting 
But for a while now I’ve been in limbo, feeling like a numbskull 
Somewhere deep down though , I know I’m a genius in the making
I just need my priorities right, and my eye on the clock
Because I must say, time flies and moments are fleeting..
The other day, I was at a bar, I had decided not to go to work
i sat in an exclusive area, and went about my drinking
soon the nigerian football match would be on,i muttered a prayer for good-luck
a few tables away, i overheard three men talking,
they were talking money, business and an oil-block
my ears pricked, my ears strained, and there i was , eavesdropping
one of them had done a clandestine favor for some top political official in Aso rock
after several years, the favor had been returned,thanks to his persistence and pestering..
the favor had been returned  in form of an oil-block,you can imagine my shock..
This was more than blood money, this was like piling money in a room with no ceiling
he was contemplating selling it off for half a billion dollars with some luck,
he did not want to be involved in the stress of  exploration and drilling
his friends were advising him to involve foreign investors, and they would pay in bulk
They of course knew a couple of foreign investors, who would be willing..
i was  enthused , as i gradually sipped from my cup
making conversions from dollars to naira kept my mind racing
i wish i had some more spunk
perhaps i should have paid for what they were drinking
and made friends with the flock
anywayz i did not, no point lamenting or regretting
a few months later , here i was again at the same bar sipping from a similar cup..
my eyes caught sight of  a newspaper with bold markings
some guy had been killed with a car bomb..
a wealthy businessman  recently known in the circles of investing,
Rumor had it that he got into a disagreement with some scum
he reneged on an agreement, got paid and did not offer them a farthing..
so i pondered, asking myself what could the agreement be?  an effin bomb!!
And then i flipped the page, and right there was a picture of the man with his wife and kids, smiling
it was the man i had seen at the bar a few months back, with all that talk of money, his face had stuck
Gradually , it occurred to me what might have happened, now my head was spinning..
Perhaps he decided to sell after-all, and those his friends felt cheated. He was killed for selling his oilblock!!
Wow, to think i had seen this from its beginning..
Imagine how much info could be spilled at a pub..
Well as a good citizen i could go to the cops and tell them my piece,and help identify the villains.. 
But  like my friends will tell you, i’d rather be in a room with some hawttie, than with a noose around my  head, or a bullet in my skull..
So i figured i’d tell it as a story, on my blog, and perhaps teach people to not be greedy. i hope they’re learning 
better to be a broke hustler alive than a bloody rich dude blown to pieces by some bomb
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Green & pure

Green Revolution

Mankind seeks dominion, and takes it all by brute force..
we took the trees, to have roads, companies and buildings all in a rush…
we mined for gold , not caring the cost..

looking back we realize we should have taken another course..
for every tree cut, another should have been planted of course!
we didn’t do that, and so the forests got sparse,the soil got coarse..
beautiful cities emerged, wow! who would have thought?!
with them however, man got spoilt,
we stopped walking, and in came the cars,those were classy, but they came with emissions and noise.

Hahaha, the ozone layer gets burned..
even light bulbs emit spurts,
now the sun shines ,not to warm, but to scorch..
The rains come to nourish our crops and then take our houses with flood..
Enough !

Now we must retrace our steps, and chart a new course..
we must plant a tree for everyone we cut..
No more indiscriminate burning let each waste/refuse be properly disbursed..
we must opt for alternative energy resource..
let us keep mother-earth as much as we can,Green , rich and Pure.

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Diary of a dreamy kid

As  a kid, I loved  pixies and fairies..
Even though I’d only read about them in stories.
I also loved adventure, Enid-Blyton knew how to weave fiction for children..
I used to imagine I was a smart detective who was better than the cops at catching villains..
So we formed a group, just like the famous-five and secret seven..
We used to have secret meetings believe it or not, I was seven..
We were three in our group , and I was the youngest..
We’d sit in my house, thinking up ideas,missions and new conquests..
One day on deep thought, I figured a club like ours would need money..
We might need some equipment, or go on some expensive journey(s)..
So I devised a means..
We had this paper game where we’d ask a player to secretly pick an animal,a place or a thing..
And through a streak of pure genius, we would deduce what was picked..
We said it was a Complex magical trick, and they could learn as well. They believed..
Sales boomed, people kept buying, I think I sold the most, after all it was my idea..
I remember a girl paid 90bucks, I wonder where she got that from, but I didn’t care..
My group had a common piggy-bank, I remember it was yellow..

We filled it till it had more than it could swallow..
Gradually I realized that we had lost focus..
Money had done its hocus pocus..
Even though we were privileged kids,we had let the thirst for money taint our innocence.
We were now part of the decadence..
One day a parent came with his son-who by the way was a good customer..
He walked into my class angrily asking for my teacher..
I remember I was worried for no good cause..
He spoke harshly to my teacher,and everyone wondered what was the fuss?
Soon after he left, my teacher -a good looking guy, called my name- Tokunbo! His voice, rather harsh..
I looked up innocently from my hardly opened book, I had suddenly developed goose-bumps, then, I thought it was a rash..
As I approached my teacher, I just knew I was in all kinds of trouble..
He glared at me like I was some crook, my legs started to wobble..
Before now, I’d never admit, but now its no big deal..
As I wobbled down the classroom aisle,feeling the heat from teacher’s glare, I felt hot piss flow down my thighs, through my shorts, my socks, too my little feet..
I was scared shitless..
And at that point, my beloved teacher’s eyes were cold,hard and soul-less..
He took out a familiar pack of paper, and asked..”What is this?”
I stuttered and stammered, and nothing sensible came from my lips..
I didn’t think it was a crime to sell my game..
But I could tell, adults wouldn’t feel the same..
My customer had been stealing money from his parents to keep patronizing me..
And to think what he was buying was a worthless piece of paper that should have been free..
So my teacher asked me to kneel down, and I got more than my fair share of mR.pepper-that was the baptismal name of my teacher’s cane..
From that day, my attitude towards my group was not the same..
That day I was so sad..
Unfortunately my mom was also told, and she felt really bad..
Blaming herself for not being more vigilant..
Unaware that I really wasn’t a deviant..
She whipped my cute butts that night..
But I held on and did not snitch on my partners..like a valiant knight
So many stories, how much can one say…
There were some actual adventures, but those are stories for some other day..

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