Mr. Gray

Let’s talk about Mr. Gray
A man who holds my hand and takes me into the deep ends of the expanse of outer space
He knows when I’m sad and how to turn my frown upside down with a warm embrace
Who cares if it’s cold? He’s my burst of sunshine even in the pouring rain
My shadow of comfort, so I’ll call him Gray

A Gray lovechild birthed of a dark mind and a clear heart
A perfect flaw in the design that makes him only mine
He lays a selfish claim to my body when he teases me with the touch of his hand
And when I’m with him, nothing else matters, not even time

He carries me to the mountains and sets me up on its peak
And there we sit and marvel at the language the birds speak
He points to a cloud and names it after me
And tells me to cherish the memories
Of a day quite so gray

He communes with the heavens
They endow him with strength
He’s at one with the earth
We’ll never lack or thirst
I’ll feed him with honey
From the bees in the trees
The winds of the east
Will answer when we pray
And I’ll walk in the way
Of my Mr. Gray

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Be My Pi

My world of infinities
My endless realm
My now till forever
My right on time
My here till everlasting
My surreal pleasure
My ultimate completion
My surround sound
My dawning horizon
My colourful rainbow
My expansive skyline
My ninth cloud
My beautiful apocalypse
My just dessert
My desert oasis
My tangible mirage
My visible dream
My global reality
My spherical truth
My one full circle
My all in all

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Right Back At You

Dear Darling,

How did we get here? You’re a woman after my own heart and even as I’m skilled in the art of catching flirty glances thrown my way, I hope I know you well to claim your open letter as mine and clutch it close to my heart.

More than anyone I know, you get me. But you can’t save me. Whether we like it or not, there is good and there is bad and these do not stem from any moral compass we believe ourselves to have. Humans are not self-subsistent. Even as a mere mortal, I share my problems with and cling onto my friends (of whom you rank oh most highly). But my soul is something I cannot entrust into the hands of humans.

Yes, I am a feminist. You may have misconstrued my thought-processes but I certainly do not feel like I owe any man my body. If I succumb to physical temptations and lustful desires, it’s only my curiosity or need for the thrill speaking.

The concept of submission on the basis of a ‘stronger sex’ is equally foreign to me. I have in the past repeatedly physically fought my own father because I believed him to be wrong. If I feel convinced to follow a man’s thinking, it would be because I think he is right. I would follow and ‘submit’ myself over to your train of thoughts if I thought you were right too. There is no sense in being stubborn all in the name of feminism. The holy book doesn’t condone being a blind fool (Luke 6:39). If a man is right, agree with him. If a woman is right, agree with her.

No, I do not support patriarchy, I support authority. Yeah, the Duncan-Williams, Mahama and Hanna Tetteh jokes may be funny, and I may laugh along with the best and worst of them but leaders and figureheads are to be respected, be they male or female. They exercise their freedom of speech and we should exercise ours too by attacking their argument and not their person. That would be too low a blow for a rational, logical thinker.

A coward is the last thing you are. You’re as sassy as they come. I appreciate your outreach but just continue to keep your arms stretched and hold my hand because I do and will always need you. I love you.

– Your friend forever.

P.S. You turn 20 in less than a day. I’ve known you just about a year and already, you’re the best that ever came my way. God bless you.

Golden Series 1: Falsely Secure

Wanders head-high into a land well-known

Does the falcon when terror dares to show

Familiar is the dry humidity she breathes

The tender shivers, the twitch the cold sun brings

With throat wide open, the bird that claims it sings

In thy presence, it feels falsely secure

 

Hence comes, watch out, the queen of ice

Across the pond she’d daintily traverse

Cloaked in white, with Russia her disguise

Arm in arm, hand in hand, the stare

Which forms part of her imposing device

With which to trample on the frozen pond

 

Be no Bambi, just stand up and walk

Shy-eyed when it comes to it, just all talk

Delicate, considerate; oh just too tough

Drop it, stop it; you care just too much

The falcon watches over you, hears your every word

Yet still, the alien preferred, leaving her third

 

Flowing together like rivers of endless bliss

Brown and melted cream, a delicacy

Bells sounding the silence of a deafening peace

Please, be satiated; let remain some integrity

Necessity awakens the dreamers from unashamed unrighteousness

We walk, back into a land well-known, ignoring the stress