DISJOINTED VERSES: THE POSTULATION OF A WARPED MIND

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I

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A pregnant pause;
Silence creeping on sighing feet...
Wait, begin.
Verses slipping through smooth lyrics
Like oil on hinges, engines throbbing
Like erectile dysfunction, confused
Explanations from doctors, mistutored.
Let the games begin.

Rap kings pulling verses
Like pulling teeth, painful
Like mothers labouring between
Umbilical cords, praying, pleading and
Waiting for life to become
Warm enough to bleed.

Crisp, burnt, toasty summer,
Baking soda on a bench,
Raking fiat money, making babies,
Baby mamas suing runaway fathers
Hustling from beneath street lights
To six feet humus deep,
Too sleepy on their feet to live.

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II

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Finger licking tasty lies sleeping
On the bedside,
Stretched ribs on tattooed skin
Gleaming oils from previous sins.
Blood shot eyes closed, flickering,
Dreaming of gun shot nights, running
Through silent neighborhood streets
On padded feet.

Wrist wear blinking at the neon sign
Of barely naked girls summoning money
Out of shallow pockets for quickies
In run down toilets or semi parked cars
On sidewalks, as semi automatic spit
Heated bullets through billowing skirts
To kids playing tictactoe
Under barely lit concrete courtyards.

Hate it or love it,
Bonfire nights are the best,
Filled with fried chicken limbs
And beef ribs on spiced sauce.
Liquor tossed with rolled up joints,
Coins and notes splayed on the floor
Like broken limbs on grassy parks.
Hip Hop popping with breaking logs as Blunts pop with each drag while
Giggling girls get drunkenly groped
By sauce stained hands, bloodshot eyes
And cold bloodstained hearts.

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III

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Rainfall on broken kids
Struggling with wheelbarrows
On bridges with broken rails,
Sweat stained boxer shorts wet with
Heaven's tears.
Hear them call out for metal cups,
Zinc, old radios, bottles and computers.

Barefoot kings gathering wealth
Beneath the sun's unwavering gaze,
Stolen pride hidden beneath torn shirts
Stained with dust and old blood.
Come on, twenty naira for a bottle.

Codeine nightmare; tired limbs
Strengthened one last time,
Drug induced pushing gallons of water
From street to street,
Seeking weary eyed housewives
Washing diapers for reuse.

Long nights, under the black sky,
Shaking, withdrawal claiming soul,
Tortured eyes tossing and turning.
A fix, a need, clawing, tears hot and wet.
Stupid, this is how we keep fit.

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IV

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Shootout between policemen
In casual wears and robbers
In police uniforms.
Confused pedestrians running,
Tossed into the air with bullets
Poking holes into their dreams and certificates.

Khaki boys toting guns without bullets,
Pursuing terrorists without vests.
Bomb plots by old men in kaftans,
Big dreams diminished
In underground torture chambers.
Truth and lies spilling like spit from deranged lips, eyes twisted in hindsight.

Sin chronicles of sights and sounds,
Disjointed thoughts from fell lips, Prophesying doom like old prophets
In tattered robes and dusty grey
Dreadlocks, calling almighty,
Feeding off widows and impotent misers.

Spit the verses until no tooth remains
And gumless, hump the floor
Until grace comes.
Sin city, bleeding roofs dropping wet
On cracked concrete floors
Leaking old epitaphs and caskets
Of forgotten progenies, fetuses -
Died young, lived fast,
Dreamed too much.

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MY THOUGHTS

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These verses are random thoughts that fell from my head like dandruff as I listened to some music. Each verse may be linked to the other or not. They might not even make any sense.

I just wrote them as the words came. At the end though, I am painting pictures. Maybe you can find someone you know on there somewhere, yes?

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©warpedpoetic, 2018.