Saturday, December 5, 2015

Emerald city lights


There once lived a life never admired or liked, a lackluster exception under these emerald city lights. Locked in a lucid battle, left to defend and fight, in defense of a once honorable but now very laughable right. Blinded by the glamour and the dazzling city heights, the audacity of ambition birthed a dazzling city might.

As tipsy reflections turn into drunk recollections, an apparently troubling lesson stands at a mass intersection. So why offend God and all his sensitivities and why pretend not to sense this nonsense? I am committed to a sober slumber before the fat lady sings and concede to sell my soullessness to end this drama from within. 

That thing that made us cry and laugh and deny the fact that our lives are a poorly scripted act. Hop on a time machine to a period more simple and basic, when flavor flav was actually just cautious not to miss the bus. Clench a souvenir from a country that no longer exists, validating extinct rituals to be absolutely amiss. So if a man and his comrade lost sight of half the night, please excuse the audacious bright of these emerald city lights.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

vodka monologues: Coasting, insomnia and more words to my mama


I used to know you; deep reflections invoke feelings of nostalgia, have me craving for a period that I barely even remember. Yet I maintain the most profound memories of a boy and his mother, on the backdrop of J.town with the freezing windy weather. While the watchman sleeps I watch my watch and peep out the window not to watch but just to pop a peek. I guess i'm bored and sort of wishing I could talk and weep like a reflective old man that knows that talk is cheap.

All your offspring are doing fine, just not up for the Nigerian grind except your crazy youngest son who is slugging it out in mines. Your mom is still pushing and looking strong and good, I ensure she is taken care of and has everything she should.

So things ended officially between me and she, and I kind of felt bad but I wish I felt worse, should that not mean more to me than "well it didnt work"? Then I started feeling bad because I wasn't feeling bad and so I hilariously actually tried to fake it. After two abstract pieces and barely a month in "pieces" I was miraculously cured and ready to mend the pieces. Put up a less than convincing show for the cameras I guess, but then realized that im actually a zombified mess. In my defense zombie mode was activated when you left, so it saved me from you, now what will save me from It?

My current lady situation could be summed up like this: Miss AU gave me a nicely camouflaged ultimatum, naturally I felt cornered and had to back down. We were tight and good buddies and she is truly quite lovely but i somehow managed to make a mockery of her talk to me. SG is a cool great girl and frankly loved by everybody while miss CY is mad hot but draws the crowd's animosity. LA is a situation that doesn't mind a situationship, HE is fiercely independent but also independently crazy so my expectations are mixed and its all a big maybe. CD is a calm girl that sends conflicting vibes, and in the center of this hive is a conflicted I.

Your face started to fade and I had to look at some pictures, its been barely sixteen years and im not sure if I still miss you. Well I was just eleven and forced to contend with those issues but mine is never resolved over a pile of used tissues. In a few months you will become a grandma in absentia, that little boy will never meet his firm feminist grandmother. But be assured that his uncle who is history's fervent lover, will tell him about the history of his father's beautiful and caring mother.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

The final stand 2


We once told a story about defiance and resistance, how a rouge troop of artisans countered the state orchestra for one instance. We were simply trying to make ourselves better than that one person that simply though that he was better than all of us. We basked in devastation at the falling of the conductor, the end had brought new life to the beginning  of a brand new fight.

While the order of the beast issued orders to the meek we made a subtly frantic but yet orderly retreat. I reverted to the old me and found my orders on my seat; they were obviously phony, our orders had been breached. We were unable to investigate the orders or the leak, so the orders became meaningless to a class that sought to seek. So we sought and we fought and we lost but not defeat, and we taught the tall man that we were anything but weak. Between a trial and an apology stood an interesting deceit; that a once "repentant" fall boy had pulled a remorseless repeat.

We once told a story about defiance and resistance,of how an unrepentant fall boy remained defiant and resistant. How on the instance of a felled conductor a certain plot was scripted from a distance. How a rouge troop of artisans were said to be cold and somewhat distant. But there was smoke and many mirrors, plus a joke and a complex metaphor, thus the plot has thickened in a brand new beginning that ended the end this ending.

Friday, January 23, 2015

The salvation of Young Diabolus

The young Diabolus, dealt a death blow and found guilty of a bad note:

that we are particularly plagued by a perilous piece of Pentecostalism that preaches what it practices and practices what it pleases. Yet we follow while we see this because our sense of reason seizes, so we question not our burning gut to refrain from "touching his anointed". My question goes to boxer the horse: Since Napoleon is justifiably a little more equal than the others, can we consent to the contradiction that we were sold a bridge in this diction? Very little for the most and the most for very little, save the twix and m & ms, while joyously sharing a pack skittles.

This is the farce I am forced to sit through: a formal lynching of the devils people, that have questioned the essence of the people of God and turned opaque to a normal see through. The ceremony is launched with a firebrand prayer to cast and to bind the evil. Then the most elite squad is prompted to their station by sounding of the central beagle. As the prayer is said, the chief priest is fed and left to sit on his head. In the middle of the casting, the masking and the tasking the little devil boy keeps asking. We commit the devil boy into the hands of Satan and continue our deep adulation.

Just when all hope appeared to be lost, redemption came in the form of water in a cup:

Do you young diabolus reject Satan? Absolutely,
And all his works? With all my heart,
And all his empty promises? I do
Then by the power vested in me by the saints of history and by God almighty, I christian you Christian, the holy Diabolus ...
 Its a miracle !!! he is saved !!! he is saved !!!! The young diabolus is finally saved !!!