Dancing In The Rain

Dancing in the rain,
when the drops fall on the dirty
roof washing it clean,
my teeth gnashing
as I shiver in cold,
my legs diving through the waters
as I make my way to my
Dancing in the rain,
washing away my pain
my thought faraway as I watch as waters run
through the gutter,cannals and
as I watch rain drop dancing on
the tarred road, as I watch as man and animals
scampered from the rain,
hiding under any standing
As for me, in the rain will I dance,
wasing away sad memories,for I will be pure like the rain
share to other lovers of spoken


Bottles Painted Green, Black and Colourful.

Bottles painted green,black and
decorated on the table like
christmas tree
every of it empty
cups sitting here and there smelly and dirty
sight unclear like the television
of the 90’s
going black and white
imaginary being flowing by
mouth speaking out foolish words mixed with sweet odour
as we converse.

Time to go home,
bottle painted green, black and
colourful stalking around
one with full liquid dancing in it under the armpit
one half empty in hand
clinging to it as though it were
staggering home
legs and body walking separately as the wind controlled the

Home, at last
where the mosquitoes breed
where the waters flow through
where spirogyra sticks to the
wall like stickers
home with cloud as it roof the stars and the moon as the bulb jumping into the waters as the
sipping of the liquid from the
bottle painted green black and
colourful continued sleep comes in and the flowing
water change to bed to lay on.

Morning of a new day
bodies gathered around
“He is not dead, he is
drunk.”they said
looking at himself in fear and
despair as the water from the gutter
flowed on his body
mosquitoes made their loving
painful art work on his body
bottles painted green black and
colourful sat in the water unscratched
he sat in shame.

Smoking Fish!

This is where he kept me
where i sat for two hours
then i sniff a bad odour,
earlier before then not in the lion’s den, he told me he wanted
to go and
Smoke Fish,he left.
but his mother never sold fish
not to say smoking it,but he
should have brought me along to help, then the odour increase,it
was a powerful smell, like some
burning weed or setting a cow
dung on fire, it was getting too
much,i stood up and did my head
tie proper,i walked out without those noise making slippers as i
sneak out on the one the
Supreme Being gave me,
Getting outside, yes there was
smoke,but this one was
different, it was travelling around him, he held something
like a burning stick in his hand,i
have never seen such magic
before,he open his mouth and
smoke ran out,oh i am dating a
god but i am not a goddess,this must be Sango(yoruba god of
thunder.)Sango of modern day.
But where is the fish?. I walk my
way in
no wonder he didn’t want me to
wander with him in the “smoking fish” journey, it was not easy,
he soon came in doing his
properly. He sat close to me,
smoking fish is really hard ,look
at your black lip even charcoal is not as black as this, your eyes
red like palm oil, even your body
odour is offensive.
You have to quit this business if
it is this hard or it will lead you
to the other of the river where i heard Lucifer is,he would be
more than willing to let you
smoke in his home and i can’t
marry a man who would fall for
death at his prime. Quit this
business now. Moral: Smokers are liable to die
young, it is detrimental to your
health. Pls quit now when you
can before it lead you to the
grave,think about your family
they love you, your life is precious.