Garment In The Dust: francisthepoet

pauper puffy sniffy stinky
Dirty dusty browny tattered garment
Contour  of ribs drawn snaky
Visibly and countably undoubtedly
Telling tales of myth
Tales of fate or faith
Dwelling under holey rusty leaking
roof
Headlong wandering when cloudy.

Therapist: francisocran

Mesmerized in her gaze

Glaringly stunned and giantly meek within.

When am unrest and other half boils in fructuring mind.

I approach her presence

And finds her sitting still till 

Years ago but never bored, 

Epitome of precious peace,

Looking wonderfully genuine.

I lie in her bossom and wonders her chest of courage.

Its green, violet ,indigo- all colours

Roses there,emerald here

High and low proudly optimistic

And all blosomsly transcending equilibrium.

Her massage is of the ancient

Warm and me like quartz

Her smell sooths the mind

Her words and actions few

Always silent but sings lullaby loudly silence.

Her impact is beyond measures

Healing my doubtful sapien

And moulding me into ripples of peace.

Bringing good tidings to the shore.

Therapy is her nature

And nature is her.

Many : francisthepoet

Many people know how to sing
That have got the voice
But don't know how to gather the traces and sail their goal.

Many people want to break through their limits
Soar and ascend high above
But the zeal is quenched, darkened and frozened
Shivering to temper their journey.

Desperate: francisthepoet

Men are always unsatisfied
Craving for everything 
Through every means
And through every ways
When we aren't getting what we want.
We become uncormfortable
We become desperate in everything
Desperate for wealth
Desperate for child
Desperate for marriage
Desperate for power and position
Desperate in our education
Desperate  to win
Desperate for our selfish interests
Desperate for things that will not last
Desperate! Desperate in everything.
We crave them at all cost
Not counting the end 

Busumuru Kofi : francisthepoet.

Oh black entity why?
Your presence rains sorrow
Your smile wrinkled our souls.
Shivering our heart with terror
And down within us we grief.
Why did you visit the great iroko
At the time that he is fruitful?
You despised her water
And rejected his kola 
Your handshake smite his root
Leaving him with no breathe.
Birds has to flock away
Men has to flee away
And boom! What a giant fall.
Our shelter is been ambushed
Hmmm! Black entity
You never considered his work you black entity.

The Price: francisthepoet.

Am now scorned
Desert womb
Barren for years
In-laws nagging
Turbulating my peace
Hope I loss not
I keep staring at the cross
There my focus dwells
Pressing for the price

War within: francisthepoet

Quietly dumb masticating
About what all within me
Which makes me strong
Or which makes me weak
Which brings smiles and pain
Lessons and mistakes
I assembled all my members
Every department of myself
And sat within my heart
For trail of all my steps

Psalms of praise: francisthepoet

Oh! Barren land
Abandone in the deep surround
Rejected and deserted
Now my darkness enlightened by a ray
My life the blood pay
My  land is full of rain
Abundance of grain
My hand therefore I raise
To unleash my Psalms of praise.

Rise up: francisthepoet

Rise up and dream
Real dreamers don't sleep
They dream whiles awake
It's time to stop dreaming and awake
If you continue in slumber
Poverty will attack you like a slander
Make hay whiles the sun shine
Make bricks whiles there is hay
Indolence prison opulence
Always hard knocks
If you have clock
Let the clock tick
You can make it
Just rise and be counted

TO BE : Francisthepoet

To be or not to be.
The truth lies on the to-be.
You choose what you want to be.
What you don't want to be.
And what others want you to be.
Husband or wife to-be
Master or slave to-be
Wise or foolish to-be
Rich or poor to-be
Strong or weak to-be
Brave or coward to-be
Straight or crook to-be.
All what you want to be.
Or others want you to be.
You choose to be.
You are thinking of what you want to be?
What is meant to be is meant to be.
And what is not meant to be is not meant to be.
I don't think that's what you want to be.
Sometimes what is meant to be is not meant to be
And what is not meant to be is meant to be.
You choose to be or not to be.
Are you confused or trying to be?
That's what I wants you to be.
You choose  to be.

Republic Colonised ( spoken word): Francisthepoet

On that fateful day in July
Her tender voice wasn't a lullaby
But a shril cry at birth
That threw the whole land
Into uproar of joy and freedom
Our land was born
Freedom spell in the air
With joy we welcome her
And betrothed her to rich heritage
Her destiny was beyond colours.

CHAIN OF SEGREGATION: Francisthepoet

Once when boys were men
On the lonely island of pen
In the center of the ocean
Poverty wasn't a word
Wealth was mutual
Fathers and sons united
Until he visited our gathering
Greased our land with contempt
There poverty became a word
And wealth became greed
His chains brought humiliation
Whips of segregation
Parting fathers and sons