Cake

If every strand of her hair said I love you,

All my bald head would say I have you,

Every time I touch her head,

Like Samson I'd grow from strength to strength.

I'd write her a poem, 

About a cake,

How I'd eat her up in the morning to make her awake,

She'd be sugar free,

That's what she's getting from the tree.

If her lips were grapes,

It'd be of many shapes,

Mine would mould hers,

Tickling her like the furs,

Holding never to let go,

She makes my time slow.

This is a random thought,

Of a woman I sought, 

The woman that's dope,

The woman that's hope,

My only,

My homely,

My poetry.

A THIEF ON THE CROSS

A THIEF ON THE CROSS.

There was virtually no empty seat in the court room. Fresh air was already incarcerated even before the judgement was delivered  by Pilate. Eagerness and anticipation ran wild around the court. All that the city wanted was my damnation.

The truth is, I didn't commit the crime I  was  standing trial for. Unfortunately the state quickly conducted a kangaroo court proceeding to put me behind bars... better still, to nail me on the cross.

Pilate was the sitting judge. A man that had been suspended by the Israeli Judicial Council was immediately forgiven and reinstated for my cause. He was found guilty of fraudulent actions few months back but our corrupt nation overlooked his crime and he had to pay with my conviction. I heard these from a reliable source.

My name is Dismas! I am a notorious criminal. A fearless man that terrorised Isreal for several decades. I'm a thief, an armed robber, a rapist and a murderer. My name rang a noisy bell in every city and I remained an awful song on every tongue.

But the truth remains that I never committed the crime I was charged with that is keeping my on the cross now as I speak. I was denied a legal representation of my choice and my evidence was not taken, not to talk of me conducting a cross examination for the prosecution witnesses.

Pilate convicted me and got his life back. A clean slate that got me a death sentence. I was to be nailed on the cross till I lose my last breath.

Here I am on the cross alongside Jesus and Gestas. I worked hand in hand with Gestas before my arrest. His legacy would never be wiped off the skies of Isreal. He remained unrepentant even on the cross. He even mocked Jesus to jump off the cross if he was a true God. I couldn't smile, I was in severe pains.

I once had an encounter with Jesus when I was younger. I had gone on an armed robbery escapade when I saw him hiding in a capentery 
workshop with his father. I tried shooting him but the trigger became so hard and I couldn't squeeze it. He warned me to repent or else my end would be disastrous. I later learnt that his name is Jesus.

Here I am with the same Jesus on the cross. I think the best thing to do before I die is to acknowledge him as my lord and savior. I know he's truly the son of God.

Lanre badmus.
May 2020

Life

She walks slowly down the matatus stairs,

Looking tired and unbothered by everyone’s stares,

She stands hands on her waist,

I walk towards her in haste,

Helping her with her heavy bag,

Stretching my other arm to hug.

How was your travel?

“Long and tiring” she replies as he scratches her navel,

Silently we walk towards home,

Figuring what to ask about where she’s from,

I could tell it’s heavier on her than the way it looks,

Physically and mentally draining like I read in the books.

We were a few weeks late,

She didn’t like the obscured fate,

Her kicks gave us hope,

Unborn yet she was already dope,

The reality of life brought that smile,

Forget being tired it was worthwhile.

I got in with my girl for our blessing,

Got out with two a feeling many keep on guessing,

All she wanted was me being next to her,

From within I couldn’t afford to be far,

The night before was a fairy tale,

Now and forever in love we sail.

Pic by https://www.pinterest.com/pecheb/

SMILE FOR ME.

SMILE FOR ME.

A smile like a stunning silver.
Down my spine, it sends some shivers.
A distinct dentition with dimples.
An exemplary elegance but still simple.

A stint of a smile with style.
Vigour vividly versatile.
Breath basking in total purity.
Beauty beyond the boundaries of infinity.

A picture of positivity and perfection.
An apparent aroma of attraction.
A smile so soft and subtle.
The tireless tenderness of a bubble.

A chip of cheerfulness and charm.
Happiness without a hint of a harm.
A soulful smile with staggering sweetness.
Firm teeth with a flawless fitness.

Lanre badmus.
May 2020.

Just about curfew o'clock

The hour is 1830,
Half an hour left to get nasty,
The roads become dusty,
The police become naughty.

I see a young man running,
definitely not an evening exercise,
in efforts no to compromise,
a previous beating through canning.

Its now 1845,
Everybody looks busy like a bee in a hive,
In haste just to survive,
You can miss COVID-19 but you have to be home to stay alive.

Police brutality is real,
Some survive yet they cant heal,
we must call it our to deal,
Lest your turn you be served the same meal.

Wash your hands with running water and  soap,
Stay alive to spread the hope,
COVID-19 is a passing wind we will cope,
Its now 1900 hours i must Stop.

A SONNET FOR SIN.

A SOONET FOR SIN.

A temptation tied up with a twine.
A dirty day has come to dine.
Lightly, I'll loosen the lustful lock.
If lust is a Shepard, I'll follow like a flock.

My soul surrenders to a sensation.
Coveteousness with an open invitation.
A temptation on the loose, I remain in bondage.
I'm a helpless body beneath a bandage.

A temptation tosses my mind around.
A new game my filthy heart has found.
I'll sacrifice my soul on a sensual altar.
A fetish feeling that has failed to falter.

Seems like the voice of a vulnerable victim.
But I am a purposeful and willing pilgrim.

Lanre badmus.
May 2020

She hit him in the nuts

She hit him in the nuts,
Its may sound crazy but he had to pee on himself,
You could say she had guts,
Maybe protecting herself.

It all started when he felt attracted to her,
Gained courage after some sips from the bar,
Staggering he entered his car,
Stepped on the accelerator like he was driving far.

Leaving skid marks and a creaking sound,
On lookers left with mouths open loud,
He was fearless and to her place bound,
Crossing fingers to find her around.

She was a nurse and worked long hours,
On her free time she did gardening,
She had long hair the fell from her head towers,
Easy, beautiful and hardening.

On arrival he lost control,
Drove his car over her garden,
Stopped by a tree and lucky he didn't roll,
This was bad all over sudden.

She came running to save a life,
As a nurse that was her drive,
He came out falling from his (in reverse) 405,
On the ground saying "will you be my wife."

Realising his intention,
The mess he has caused her,
A dangerous invention,
So she hit him in the nuts.

Photo via istockphoto.com

STAN.

Body as firm as a military decree.
A Mercedes Benz is all I see.
From me, morality can't help but flee.
A figure that is fervently flaw-free.

A sensuous structure and shape.
My jaws grounded by a gorgeous gape.
I'm lost in lust, no route of escape.
Beauty remains all views to this landscape.

You're my newly found religion.
Be the path that leads to Zion.
Lust has looted my heart and its regions.
To hell with extremists and their opinions.

I'll tarry at the tail of this temptation.
An absence of freedom and it's anticipation.
Sensual statistics without an abbreviation.
My sense of morality is clearly on a vacation.

Alluring attributes apparently African.
A perfection with an eternal life span.
A wielded weapon in form of a woman.
For you I'm forever a solid stan.

Lanre badmus.
May 2020

TIME IS GUILTY AS CHARGED.(COVID19 SRRIES.)

Still I'll say time is never a saint.
It's clear I have a candid complaint. 
Sternly, I gaze at her glaring guilt.
The free flow of dirt and filth.

Time has done more evil than good.
Both in the city and in the woods.
For once she never showed remorse.
Thus, let the world prepare for worse.

I've seen time thirst for tears.
She's a drunk, she will drink for years.
Time love to feed on human flesh.
Apparently she will forever be fresh.

At the moment she's an enemy of the state.
Unfortunately there's no way to reciprocate.
At  her mercy we live our personal lives.
She is the blacksmith, she wields the knives.

I'll depict time as a disgusting dictator.
She's only accountable to our creator.
Still I'll say time has never been a saint.
It's clear I have a candid complaint.

Lanre badmus.
May 2020

Through the window

There is a loud bang on the door,

That sends shivers to the core,

The first one throws him to the floor,

He has to be quick if there would be more.

“Open up you bastard!”

“I must have my answers tonight!”

“I’ll eat you like mustard”

“There no way out without a fight”

So he whispers to her asking for the easiest way out,

She hesitates and he thinks maybe through the window,

Quickly he runs toward the window without a doubt,

Bam, he screams as the second bang shatters the door.

He enters breathing fire,

A red dot can be seen with mild smoke,

He passes the blunt through the wire,

Smiling and says it was all a joke.

It’s already 6.59,

Enough of the smoke stories,

Running home not to worries,

Tomorrow will be a better day.

Pic via www.123rf.com

A Man

I took a break,
Came back engaged,
Seen my dreams in my wake,
As fine wine i'm aged.

I have a daughter now,
Beautiful as her mother,
Love, care, guidance and all i vow,
she maybe a better poet than her father.

My wife, bae, love and sugar,
How lucky i got,
My salad pool with a sprinkle of vinegar,
I do love her a lot.

A man i'm becoming,
better than what i was dreaming,
I promise to write again more,
setting our imagination of the shore.

Photo credits vectorstock.com