Struck!!!

It comes uninvited like an unpleasant memory …it gets intense the more you try to suppress it…
It doesn’t knock the doors down ,it sips through the keyhole
…quietly
like a wisp of odourless smoke…
before you know it, you’re engulfed by a dense cloud of angst
Suffocating and sweating.
Drowning in self pity and doubt…

Then its gone…
as quietly as it came
…leaving behind a pelter of vigorous palpitations and a frail bundle of your former self
Drained of all esteem and fatigued.

Read. wRite. Rhyme.

Anxiety .

My imaginary friend says : “Hi”

His name is Anxiety

When you see me fidget,it is because he tickles me. ©

Negligent…

“How they planned to keep that leaking relationship afloat beats me!”

With her guttural , resounding voice she begins .
In between long tokes of tobacco.

“Now that its submerging,they’re using the children as oars to row away on their single boats in spite of each other.”
©

Ego.

When he swallowed his pride,

It was not even a gulp.

Poetry Monarch.

Unfinished Piece November (Sguru)

Dambe – A form of boxing associated with the Hausa people of West Africa. Historically, Dambe included a wrestling component, known as Kokawa , but today it is essentially a striking art. The tradition is dominated by Hausa butcher caste groups, and over the last century evolved from clans of butchers traveling to farm villages at harvest time, integrating a fighting challenge by the outsiders into local harvest festival entertainment. It was also traditionally practiced as a way for men to get ready for war, and many of the techniques and terminology allude to warfare. Today, companies of boxers travel performing outdoor matches accompanied by ceremony and drumming , throughout the traditional Hausa homelands of northern Nigeria, southern
Niger and southwestern Chad . [1] The name “Dambe” derives from the Hausa word for “boxe”, and appears in languages like Bole as Dembe .

Sguru – A Fight.

–Sguru–

“sguruu!! sguruu!! sguruu!! sguruuu….”

It was within a chanting circle where i got my first fist beating. First we stood there striking our best Kung Fu stances ,
Long before he clenched them into solid knuckles……..i could almost feel my tiny bones snap under the force of those solid rods ,four times the size of my puny fists .
Maintaining my most ‘menacing’ posture, with my diminutive stature ,the aftermath mock went that i
looked like a timid giraffe ,a wobbly calf…a cornered prey.

Unfinished Piece November.

Poetry Monarch.