Profiting from death

Lagos is where I live
And some other 15 million souls
I'll tell you a little tale
I once had a neighbour  
Who profits from death
Selling hand made coffins
From woods that rot fast
So this faith-ful day
Having prayerfully secured a customer
He was suddenly given the delivery job
The coffin must be delivered that night
He rented a ghost of a car
That wasted half its fuel on unnecessary sounds
And vibrates a little less than my grandpa's alarm clock
After three hours on a 6km road
With more work done in getting ready that moving
He came close to the delivery venue
Just 200m away from the Police station
And behind the station lies the cemetery
With the deadman's relatives already gathered
And the newest undertakers in town
Just recently hired and trained at the cemetery
And not forgeting the man of the day
Who was brought in the same ambulance 
That was headed to the nearest morgue
But on his brother's suggestion
Was made to pick some family members
And finally halted at the cemetery
Suddenly the car stopped and wouldn't bulge
My neighbour had to carry the coffin on his head
On getting to the station beside the cemetery 
A policewoman stopped him for questioning
Knowing how troublesome the police can be
He told her he was relocating
That the placed he had been buried was too noisy
And so he decided to relocate to this cemetery
The next week he had to furnish another coffin
For the family of the police woman
The words she heard had stopped her heart 

Life here never ceases to amaze me
We are all like moths
Forever drawn to this fire
Our daily lives is a miracle
We live in a mine field
Yearly deaths here will halve Gaza 
From the air we breathe to the roads we ply
Everything pulls us on to a sure death
And at a record breaking rate
The rich is no better than the poor
We all live in this expensive slum
Only that the rich is happier
He bothers more about his car-ffin
Leaves on a desert beside a stinking lagoon
And the poor only bothers about the police
Our most innovative comrades 
We are all like my neighbour
Profiting from death
The death of the law 
The death of humanity
And the death of our sanity 

Not a little loved

I am of most men most fortunate
An object of numerous affections
A source of ceaseless infatuations
A point of innumerable considerations 
A recipient of unmerited accolades
A focal point of several love
A store of overflowing delights
A castle of spoken beauty
A channel of hidden charm
A mist of eternal swoon 
Extremely dear to many
Constantly reminded by few
Never made to see my flaws
Believed in beyond reason
Trusted way too much
And not a little loved 

It is time that changes and not man

The capacity to change is beyond man
That a monkey learns to walk like man
Never makes it any less a monkey 
No matter the brightness of the moon 
No one will ever dry his clothes in it
Even if the night be made brighter than day 
The period of sleep will hardly notice
Though man's dreams ceaselessly change
And his desires are no less change freaks
Yet his self and needs have not altered once
All that embodies a man remain the same
Ingenuity, social interaction and survival
It isn't man that changes but the time
The time dictates our dreams and desires
The time keeps revealing his creativity
The time emboldens his social needs
The time leaves unchanged his need for survival
It is time that changes and not man
If an early man be fetched and installed amongst us
Once he's accustomed to the time now here
He'll be no bit different from the rest of us

A pleasant numbness

I am struggling to breathe steady
My feet have never felt this heavy
My head feels incredibly light
My eyes are about to pop out
I can't seem to change my gaze
Oh my! I can't even feel my arms
Even my mind is gone blank
There is this tickling in my stomach
Geez! My ears are twitching
I can see only one thing
And then she said, "Hello!"

Bad things do happen to good people

If there was ever a man
Too gentle to hurt a fly
Too shy to think an evil
Too kind to keep a grudge
Too caring to neglect his shadow
He must have been me

If there was ever a dream
Too pure to be stained
Too big to be packed
To great to be neglected
Too beautiful to live without
It must have been my dream

Everyday I work extremely hard
Building up a life to match that dream
Having for the mortar, impeccable integrity
For which I make unending payments
And for the bricks, hard sacrifices
Baked in the kiln of determination

But it is never enough
I am often forced to pay more
I keep facing evils beyond me
Troubles in proportion no longer fair
Leaving me with but one consolation
Bad things do happen to good people

Pouvez-vous deviner la ville?

J'ai peine couvert 2 Km en deux heures
L'embouteillage est fidèle comme d'habitude
Bienvenue à ma ville
Tous les jours, je me lève à 4h20
Quand le coq est encore ronfler
Je sors avant le soleil se réveille
Je passe plus de temps sur la route que dans le bureau
Ma ville est située dans le sud-ouest du Nigeria
Elle est petite géographiquement, mais énorme démographiquement
Nous avons tout: les trains, les routes, les bateaux, les pauvres et les riches
Mais nous essayons garder notre santé mentale
Chaque jour, nous marchons à nos tombes
Poussé par les embouteillages, le stress et nos voisins
Pouvez-vous deviner ma ville?

Why is the future this far?

All my castles are built in the air
Which is quite a great accomplishment
In the reality of the age now here
Where it is no little achievement
To become a full time motivational speaker
Selling overpriced well furnished airborne castles
To multitudes who keep buying the same thing over
Possessing more of an illusion than the parcels
So to have built mine from the scratch
And taking me about half my lifetime
To furnish several with no match
Is in my heart a source of joyous chime
A chime that resonates through my whole being
Making me feel as important as the pope
Leaving my intercession with reality thin
And my head pumped big with balloons of hope
Hope built on knowledge of a coming future
A future that will start with a relocation
An occupation of my castle, a lifelong treasure
The heralding of my most glorious earthly transition
But today I moved close to reality, and could not
But ask, "Why is the future this far?"

My Newly Found Obsession

People bottle me in a first impression
And clone me out of my first expression
They know most of me after a first encounter
Claiming intimacy with my very character
But after the encounters are a few more
And their impressions gone on a number tour
They run out of suitable bottles
And the initial clone crumbles
Still they work hard like I carry a bet
To fix me somewhere in their mind's cabinet
And to my great disappointment
I end up in a file tagged 'different'
The harder I try to change the file
The more I get stuck like a tile
Though I'm getting used to the label
I still consider it an unpublished libel
I limit my activities to what is common
And try hard to be like everyone
But no one seems to notice my progress
They all have me laid like a game of chess
So I gave up and told myself
Since I get to shock no one but myself
I am quitting being like everyone
I am moving on to the uncommon
And fulfilling this new resolution
Is my newly found obsession