I thought if i made you an instagram post you’d be happy,
So i made a thousand and one,
Let my feelings tag along.
I spent every single pretty word on you,
Trying to grow from the stupid boy down the hallway,
Trying to add more sparkle on your eyes,
Their depths in which my trust sunk into.
The world was closed from me and i enjoyed your space.
That was my fantasy right there and you brought it to life,
That was the Friday night i wished for in highschool,
Spiced up with marijuana but you were my high and…
And i just can’t believe it faded away,
Like a dying star in the skies.

I never heard from you since,
Not even a comment and you never texted or called.
Then i was tired of the voicemail girl and gave up.
Some wolves must have turned you against me in the full moon.
Maybe it was something i said,
I could delete it all if that was the assurance for your happiness.
But last night i called your brother,
Still feels like it was a nightmare.
Or maybe he was just tryna keep me away,
He was mad i didn’t go to your funeral.
And if that was a joke then i passed.
I want to flash that thought down the drain but now it adds up and i think the sum is incorrect.
At least i want to believe so.
That you ain’t dead and you’ll show up one day,
With the bubbles on your smile,
Grab a cup of coffee downtown.
Go to all those beautiful places you talked of,
We could start with Accra.
Then the beaches, fly to Europe,
Dare the heights of adventure
But I can’t afford you around me now.
Not even for a second,
Life is that expensive and the moments we shared are priceless.
And all those days i was angry at you,
I wish they were points i could redeem.
Damn! I’ll never forgive myself for that.
For my obsession at pleasing you,
I forgot i was just perfect for you,
I needed to be there.



éperdument amoureux : LOVE STRUCK
✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴
Lost in Salem, trapped by the seduction of those eyes,
Overdosed on portions familiar to the taste of the cherry on your lips,
The sky all lit up by the starshine of your eyes, after a day’s great sun,
Tonight i was walking in Venice and you were all over Giorgio Bellini art work, smooth opera playing from a Captain’s Ball afar,
Your hair sparking silver, your body on super geometrical projection,
Body soaked in Lilies, radiance coated every granule of your skin,
It rained and shined at noon, even nature craved for your company.

✴✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴img_20161218_034012

Photocredits :


Down by the river,
The stream dancing to the tunes of the birds by the rice field, the reeds carried away by the tunes of the rumbling wind,
The air was silent listening to the beat of our hearts, the sky couldn’t stare away from beauty of your skin, kissed by the crystal waters with a touch of the gold in the sunlight,
The tone of that voice tore away my sanity, the warmth of your breath burnt my thoughts, “Tu as de beaux yeux” I wish i was born a Dubois, with a clean brushed mustache by the streets of Monaco, right under the lights of Monte Carlo, just to tell you, You have very beautiful eyes in that accent.
Or maybe we could go play with the sands of Sajid Majid in Zanzibar while a band of cultured men on khaki shorts, beaded sandals and reed hats plays us some smooth slow bango.

✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴


The flowers by the fountain aint bright enough like the last time you went bathing, 

The birds don’t sing in the morning by my window if you’re not around,

“L’amour est la poésie dessens” Balzac, calls it ‘Love’, the poetry of the senses,the darker shade in the beauty of life, 

Today is a night full of dreams, a promise of a divine love story of this black affair,

A confession of my addiction, greater than the bee’s craving for nectar, how you juggle up my thoughts and capture the consciousness of my emotions,

Last night i wrote a letter for you, from the art of François Copee in literature,

Words from beneath the waters your love drowned me into, the truth of the feeling got me hooked on,

It ended , “Je serai poète et toi poésie… “. I’ll be your poet, will you be my poetry. 

With Regards.



All, With You 

All these broken clocks,

All the time we wasted.

All the scars spread all over our bodies,

All the counts we’ve been hurt,

Back for love again.

All these thoughts in our heads,

All these feelings,

Moving on from the past.

All the moments we shared,

All the smiles, the fun,

Strike pause, take me back to that episode.

All the way we’ve come,

All the blisters on our feet, all the sweat,

Chasing for the perfect love,

We’re good with our imperfections.

All the tears we’ve cried,

All the sad songs our hearts have been forced to dance to, 

Sometimes sweet tastes sour but the plate is served. 

All the words I wrote,

All and more about you,

Time to live our love story.

All the kisses,

The paradise between our lips,

You can’t say you don’t miss that. 

The African Dream 

The African community has always lived in the shadows of their colonial masters even decades after they’re gone. The fact that our rights and dignity were violated by the brutal and selfish quest of the white man to reap where he barely sore and ride on our “strong backs”, has been manipulated by greedy black “messiahs” as an excuse to rob us of the little that the imperialists left. It is beyond reasonable doubt that the post-colonial period and neo-colonialism have greatly undermined the transit of the black man into the modern age but now that the people have the power, how is it helping him to develop himself into a fully independent entity? What if we cut off corruption, mismanagement of resources, social injustices and inequality and instead cashed in our strengths and abilities in equal distribution of government resources, advance our education and health systems, better administration of state facilities, tackling land issues and promoting administration of justice without fear or favor?

What if we held ourselves back from fighting each other and dedicating our diversity to influencing a positive change in socioeconomic development? 
Africa is, I believe, among the top continents with vast naturally endowed resources which could be invested in to reciprocate a great injection into our dwindling economies the subsequent  growth of our people. If our leaders could for once understand that their positions are established to serve and not otherwise, set up tangible structures under the management of accountable, independent and competitively deserving minds to efficiently tap the peoples’ selfless efforts into various production channels our national debt curves will steepen away as we realise the African dream.

Let’s make an example of Congo in our case. A beautiful country with not only a rich history in the origin of the biggest community in Africa, the Bantu, and a forever reference to the heights of injustice done to the Africans but also a state with a right the land with most natural resources in the world. A historian, Dan Snow, talks in detail about Congo’s rich land in his article dated 9/10/2013 – DR Congo : Cursed By Its Natural Wealth. Here he states that the current warzone brags of a large mineral resource mainly comprised of diamond, gold, uranium(used in making the first atomic bomb) , copper, tin and coltan(material used in mobile phone making), a vast quality wood coverage and still a top rubber producer despite the crude exploitation by the greedy heartless Belgian aristocrat, along with large, clean water rivers( Congo River is the world’s second largest river) and a pure talent in the art of music. The central Africa nation has been a victim of its blessing which is the the cause of the slavery that claimed about ten million African lives in the colonial times and the ongoing civil war that has lasted for decades and even worse after the assassination of its most vibrant, focused pan-african figure and Prime Minister, Patrice Lumumba, in a conspiracy brewed by the West and betrayers of the fight for independence by our forefathers who went on to plunge Congo into a blood bath defending their insatiable appetites for riches and power while their fellow countrymen suffer.

One, Mobutu Sese Seko Nkuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga, “the all-powerful warrior who, because of his endurance and inflexible will to win, goes from conquest to conquest, leaving fire in his wake”, made himself ruler and god over a people who so deserved a break from oppression considering their suffering under King Leopold ||. He built himself a 100 million dollar castle with an airstrip to facilitate his shopping trips to Paris while thousands died of starvation, diseases and ethnic clashes till the day he was ousted from power and replaced with Joseph Kabila  who went on to watch the suffering and humiliation of his people and now when the people are tired he’s forcing himself to remain at the top of the food chain where he feeds on the sweat and blood of his people. 

If by any chance Brazzaville woke up with a vigorous straight thinker to sponsor the cohesion of the Congolese and be the guide in a healing journey so that a convenient environment can be created for the laying and operation of infrastructure that could help extract the potential of their land then Congo will only headline the business news and not a feature on war and human rights documentaries on international media. Someone or some people to draft a road map towards improving child education so that the future doesn’t die with boy soldiers in the cold disease-infested forests of Zaire; a representative and defender of the people’s rights, interests and vision and dedicate his/her service to fighting the cartels funding the mining wars and stealing from the people.
I want us to imagine a Somalia that took advantage of its stretched access to the Indian Ocean and invested its capacities in developing a major ocean trade center out of its naturally deep harbors. Somalis who could be proud of their achievements because they made it from the love of their people in a fair, peaceful system and not because they won green cards and some little favors as refugees to or in foreign countries.

We would all like to watch CNN without slave trade reports from Libya because west African citizens can pursue their dreams within their borders rather than being sold to mean racist masters or served to sharks in the Mediterranean on a quest to “greener pastures” in Europe and Asia.

I wish to see a drop in the poverty rates in most countries in this region because parliamentarians are dedicating their full attention to essential matters about the economy, health and security not spending months on sittings approving their increment in salaries or making amendments to favor the parties in power.

We want to wake up to the end of butchery of Nigerians and abuse of our daughters by terrorists because our youths are too busy involved in building the nation than sitting idle, unemployed hence opting to join these misguided evil courses, a day in South Sudan where President Salva Kiir and his vice Riek Machar put aside their political differences aside and decide to unite their people in peace love and unity; who wouldn’t share in the joy of diminishing figures on the HIV/AIDS calamity claims on the lives of poor South Africans because there’s a system in place to educate the people on their lifestyles, positive culture and health programmes to provide sufficient service to the people.
There’s so much positivity that the African people can realise by just investing in their potentials and the greater in their land. Governments should work towards implementing policies that empower the so called “common man” to be self-reliant, making use of the resources and skills readily available to him rather than soliciting aids from the international community which only help a few citizens or none sometimes. There should be mechanisms in place to ensure that the people enjoy the fruits of their labor and not waiting around in queues for food aids while a few men and women jet out in first class to posh vacation destinations in Europe, Asia and America.

 You see the world is being eroded by calamities each day and soon the United Nations will have their mouth full so the behavior of always waiting on others to save us has to end whether we like it or not. They said beggars can’t be choosers but we forget that true beggars got no fertile land to plough nor items to trade, they have no cattle to herd nor an opportunity to better. We are not beggars! We have a responsibility to do and leave better than we found. We can not sit day and night praying for manna when God gave us food to come from soil in the lands we own, when we got phenomenal ideas rotting in unemployment and young lives wasted in crime. There should be a system that opens the doors for the people to share in their ambitions and determination for change. 

We need a Robert Mugabe when he made the bold decision of reclaiming African land from the white settlers in Zimbabwe as it’s so sad that in this age Africans are still living as squatters in their own motherland, land being the source and foundation of growth. Land distribution and allocation has become a maiden challenge in this continent  despite the fact that a large chunk of land lies idle or underused. A few people in some countries as we see in examples like Kenya are entitled to owning very large productive tracts of land, most of it inherited as gifts from the colonists or grabbed from the public, while the majority are congested in the former reserves where farming is minimal due to the poor climates and unavailability of the resource since most is used for residential purposes. Africa brags of large percentage of land that can be used for agriculture and it makes no sense that hunger is a an issue in our news today. Most intellects talk about implementation of various agricultural research proposals and farmer education as ways to tame the food situation but what is place of the millions of squatters in such a vision. This is an issue that needs to be dealt with for starters if we are to walk the path of economic independence. 

We need a Patrice Lumumba to be vocal of the issues facing our people and work towards empowering our people not selling their rights and dignity to the West; a Thomas Sankara – commanders of African unity and prosperity, a revolutionary! Individuals that establish their visions and principles in the pillars of justice (for all), unity and complete independence. Even when the oppressor has had his way with snatching revolutionists from our midst, there’s a saying that “they can’t kill of us” and we are at war with our dreams: to imagine bigger, our potentials; we can do better and the looters living for their selfish courses. 

We need a Mwalimu Julius Nyerere to unite our people and encourage exchange between them, whether in the context of development ideas, physical and emotional help, trade and skills so that we grow together and stronger. 

We need less politicians and more leaders, less promises and more fulfillments, Less borrowing and more creating. Africa needs to grow up and leave his mother’s house. 

Soul 11.

Photocredits: by Myself. 
I’m not writing this to you because I’m good in poetry,

It’s the things you do to me,

You’re where my heart needs to be.

When the words come to me,

It’s all you that I can see,

I want to soak you in my ink.


Your beauty amazes the skies, 

You’ve won favour from the sun, 

How its rays traces your figure onto your shadow, 

Jealous of the moonlight, 

When it unveils the scene of your pectorals to me.

My touch on your body,

Preceded by that of perfection only.
Lust battling innocence. 

Our hearts ablaze, 

Their embers with a glorified glow. 

We wrestle, 

Our lips touch! 

The scent of your body, 

Like a gentle breeze in my lungs.

The heat of your body, 

Melting my heart down, 

Rendering my soul defenseless. 
Twists and turns, 

You rip my fantasies apart. 

Freeze my guts, 

Submit to your soft calls of need, 

Like a violin waving the bass away, 

Our favorite love song. 
You bite when the wolves howl, 

You scratch with the crickets’ orchestra. 

You hear my voice in your head, 

The ecstasy in my words. 

The ground beneath you crumbles,

Down slow you go breathing on my heartbeat, 

Making into one, 

Like scarlet petals into a rose. 

Our mouths full of each other, 

We talk with the tender of a finger.

Flipping the pages of our love story, 

Morning will find us a title. 

Cleopatra’s Secret Chamber. 

Your beauty makes me confuse my fantasies with reality, 

Sometimes it feels like I live both. 

You’re my kryptonite, 

The only time my Clark Kent and superman coexist. 

Belt buckle clinging onto the cold floor,

Like the sound of  battle drums, 

Napoleon must win!

We discard off our faces,

The floor is littered with details,

Like in a rush, 

Our hearts are impatient,

Our lips starved of discipline. 

I hold up your body, 

Melting underneath, 

Like I’m drinking from your lips, 

Your soul, 

Seasoned with desire, 

A pronounced taste of love. 

Like a bottle of wine left to be for years, 

Gracing my throat as it slithers down in awesomeness,

Like the taste of your lips, 

Served hot by your body.

Clenching fists and cracking toes.

Your legs ache, 

Butterflies in your stomach, 

and I’m swallowing them when you moan softly into my ear.

Digging deeper into my back with your nails, 

Pain to pleasure, 

The latter I can’t measure. 

I want to squeeze you in my arms, 

Open my mouth wide open, 

Let you drip in, 

Drop by drop. 

Pretend to be quenching my thirst,

Feed from your hands,

Their divine touch. 

Holding me down to the worship of your body. 


She’s Beautiful 

She’s beautiful, 

A shooting star that strikes the heart of my thoughts. 

Perfect in imperfections, 

She’s beautiful, 

You should have seen her through my eyes. 

Glorified in her elegance, 

She’s beautiful, 

She’ll make away with your heart. 

Her charms flow like a river, 

You might drown in her love.
She’s beautiful, 

Dressed in magnificence, 

Beauty in truth, 

Different from this world.