Cupid’s college

I went to college

Cupid’s college

Where no one learns

But everyone knows

I went to college

Cupid’s college

Full of fools in capes

And wise men inanimate

I went to college

I went and I saw

Of how quick it is to gain

As how quick it is to lose

I went to cupid’s college

No one saw anyone

The pictures where just as they should have been

Hanging before lies and flaws

But still pretty for all

I went to college

Cupid’s college

Where none ever graduates

And every second is always new

I went to cupid’s

The food was tasteless

The truths were baseless

The blame was endless

I went

I can’t go again

To cupid’s college


The Painter

Once there was a painter
The shield of humanity against itself
He was an awful painter
A passionate painter

He cared much for what they said about his paintings
Still, he heeded not to their words
He believed he was right
He admired all his work

Once there was a painter
The reflection of men they did not like to see
He was a daring painter
A passionate painter

He cared less for what they said about his ways
Still, he lived his life in his best way
He believed he was fine
A little different from his kind
Still, he knew he was alright

Once there was a painter
Little brats stole his brushes
Angry men buried his paintings
Scornful women spat his way

Once there was a painter
A passionate painter
A daring painter
An ugly story teller
By uncomfortable paintings
Once there was.


Oh I have fantasies!

Claded in black suits and sharp shoes

Confident fantasies

Bold and brilliant fantasies

I have fantasies shaped in arena stadiums and foundation titles

Of great impact to hopeless children

Of colorful styles like Victoria’s secret

Oh yes I do have fantasies

Of a loving people and a generous nation

Of grey skies above a warm people

Of mindful folk and kind kindred

Fantasies dressed up by love

Fantasies so fantastic to the eye

Fantasies looking like powerful lawyers defending justice

Looking like brave officers preventing injustice

Looking like business people who care for truth

Never putting the coin before the service

Fantasies of ideas of good

Of things that could

Possibilities untapped

Of our true purpose as a people

Fantasies of one day seeing all these fantasies come true.

No title.

The best moments for art are when you’re at the verge of emotion. You want to cry, tears are welling up? Tell your story. You want to explode with excitement, write. Tell your story. And stories are told in different ways.

Emotion is triggered by life experiences. Life experiences are the source of inspiration. Sometimes, you walk in a forest and the silence overwhelms you and you start to cry because, there has been no silence in your life. Sometimes, you walk in the streets and see people of all kinds and you start to feel calm because, you realise the pain you face is lesser compared to what others face.

Art is ambiguous yet, it is what life is all about. Art is about trusting things and people. It is about more than what feels. It is dreams, faith, hope, answers to no questions and questions that should have no answers. It is a healing process. A subject with no closing. Art is you and me breathing. Believing tomorrow shall come.

And that is why humanity is such a close subject to my heart. Children, women, men, all are superior beings and of equal value. I believe that every event in our lives is with purpose and that each purpose culminates to our end story. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Be kind to those who show you unkindness. Be love. Be good to everyone. If you chose whom to love, you shall not be chosen. And be in every moment. Feel it. Experience it. When you are angry, don’t avoid praying. When you are sad, don’t avoid people. Carry on living. Go out and be good. The world is vast. Who knows, prayer could calm you, someone could comfort you, just don’t take it out on the world.

If you hide your face, you will hurt yourself and another. Only, you won’t realise it or you won’t care as much as you should.

I have written this in the spur of a moment. Probably without flow or theme. But well, thank you for reading my gibberish. Have a blessed week.

My blue.

Yesterday, I buried my cousin. He suffered. He was a good man. He has found peace. The memories I have of him are mostly of him with my grandma. She passed away too. Last year. She was incredible. I miss her. She was a feminist by lesson and her lesson made her wise and strong. I see her in my mother.

Women in my family are not easy to love. They are worth to love. My cousin was a man with big dreams. Never less ambitious. This was how he and her got along so well. Most of all, they were both good at heart. Gentle and patient. And great cheer leaders. Always happy for others more than for themselves. He was very hardworking.

I have learnt from them that life is a fight but you have to fight with a smile. He did this because he loved. And today, I am glad I celebrate.

Let’s write a song.

Let’s write a song

Let’s write a song about coffee shops

Let’s write a song about coffee shops and the people who go there

I bet they had stories too

Let’s write about their stories

About how foolish they were and how wise

Let’s write a song about their buried pasts

About their hurt

About their sad goodbyes

Let’s write songs about their love lives

About their child hood crushes

About how the boys were shamed to never cry when the girls beat them

Let’s put our thoughts together

Let’s write about brands and books

Let’s write about fails and wins

About the singer who lost her dream

About the kings who lost their kingdoms

Let’s write songs about seasons

About downfalls and uprisings

About you

About me

About people

About us


Sit with me

Let’s write a song.

Letter to you.

Dear friend,

I hope you are well as you read this. I am as best as can be. I write this letter with you in mind. Yes, you my reader, in my mind. The world is made of us. We are what we describe the world to be. And sometimes, we say it to be vile or unfair and rough but in truth it is we who are all that we say it is. I am sorry I haven’t written in a long while but here we are.

This blog post isn’t about humor or controversy or something that sells. This is about what I feel inspires me to write at this very moment as I watch a movie which I am totally concentrating on. I multitask by the way. And am fairly good at it. I try. Anyway, let’s get back on track. Inspiration.

I am a human being and when I was a child, I dreamed so big. Too big. Foundation big. But I was raised different. Dreams needed backing. Reality backing. Like good grades backing. I am African. That’s how we are mostly raised.

Am not saying my dream died or came true. Am saying, time is powerful. Sometimes, we go through moments that say, all hope is foolishness and then there are times that say, all possibilities are ours. We go through these cycles and we become shaped and beautified by them. However, what defines us is not what shapes and beautifies us. What defines us is what remains constant through this cycle of life. Coexistence.

And how do we define ourselves? By coexisting well. And how do we do that? We acknowledge that all things are fleeting by and we need to stay focused on how we treat others. On what marks we leave here on earth. On what impacts we make on people.

Greatness stems from love and even big foundation size dreams come true by a basis of love. Winning is not victory if it is meant to focus the shine on one person and not a society.

I felt inspired to say all that and I trust you feel inspired too my friend.

With love,