Thursday, June 13, 2013


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Friday, June 07, 2013


Love is an inch of dispensation
Of rose petal breath lingering in a
Brown chocolate party
Where water turns to wine
And wine turns to culture
Till event of pleasure wanes
And the dance out-spins
In a fantastic circle
Of trust
With swaying heads drunk
As time ticks with
Limits like a set clock
For batteries keep receding;
Humans are not bots
And bots are not humans.

Love is a mile of hands holding,
Trailing a track like a train
To a destination where souls lodge
Decision and indecision -
Double-park along the route
Of possible retractions
Enhanced by forcible failure
Till finality in fragments.

Love is a kiss by the wind
Where breeze is simple and clean
For a moment -
A swift dance on the tip of Eiffel
A bath in a sample of Nile
A glare into the eyes of Isis
A blur look into a beautiful bottle
Like bargaining for crocodile tears on Paga streets
Or to be squared in the heart of Bermuda
Or to circle feet in a box of Pandora,

Love is like a dip in Boti
Wishing you'd fall slowly
But quickly and gently
And mildly and strongly
And utterly beautiful with every imperfection
For the traits of men border on
So however scientific the subject of selection
We miss the question;
How long will this last?
Are we in this like entrepreneurs?
'Cause an affair is as well a risk
For when things unfold
Would you still lean on me
When my shoulder blade is sore with age?
Would I still be the apple of your eye
Even when I go blind?
Would I be the lingering thought
Engraved on the canvas of your mind?
Your grey matter- would my hair gone grey matter?

Love is as interesting as a Ga woman's Azonto
The heart's a television with different channels
The mind is a radio and frequencies frequently scan still
The face is a mirror
Could I be what you reflect on, or believe in?
A second ago he was her Romeo, but Juliet refused to let go.
She was Rose in a titanic tale, but Jack wouldn't drown.
I ask..
Is love a measure of faith like religion?
Is love leisure with taste in precision?

Love is a fool's story
But for how long would both clown?
At the end of the day
If love is food for the soul
But people forget, refuse or retire from loving
Does that not mean..
People stop living even before they die?