Life More Than Hue, Me and You

There are no semblance of correlation at this final ask...

One day I will get uninterested, One day I will make a frown when I see your child, It might not be as funny as you intend, Like a Hurricane or a heavy rain, if everything the heaven does is betoken of the day, as it lays spreads oblivious of its bed awaiting its judgment just like everyone else, Soon my heat will stop just as it should have when you came charging through the fence fencing with what ought to be love trying to make aflame but my eyes made blurry from old smokes, squint still in mere pliable road in my world as my stars file down beating down as the most beautiful of death, Still I want it.

Who are thine that ever endure?

The law from your mouth means nothing to men looking and abnegating for large  quantities of gold so console these mind games, it didn’t make it to the preamble, for your law is not my delight I don’t live your command not only are they stress for the fool, try it wants to rule my life against my precepts and deny the love of truthful ways. See if my policies are policed by parents who aggravate our angst with wishes against your every witch amidst the uncertainty to be sure, if you want to read and understand who you invent, second your dreams make a front for support of family and your role in society and that fails, Explode!!!

I wonder if you have hurt others, climb up to the top of your pyramid home and at the tip I saw you looking down telling me its lonely at the tip play with us awhile you wont be a flop, touching of the soul, sex is a blow, and after much interrogating triangular light, and disappointingly dissatisfied dissing if this is what you meant when you show love?

I must thank you for letting me enter puberty early you are nothing like these hyper active sluts, You are real consistent, considerate, complete, confident, and very cunnilingus, 

But I am not constrained by why but how so hard it seams in this yarn of life knitting all my problems on the fabric of my existence, Is it the happiness or am I lying to impact the truth since I don’t remember all the doctrines, indoctrination, teaching and preaching, lies and stupidity as it only get old as dry mucus, Sweet still if you gobble the inconsequential and indoctrinate stupidity of faux caring heads. Praying the beads of separate ten one for hail for the plants I harvest, one for glory to balance the monthly gore one for our father and his distance and distancing relationship humiliation and insult all in the name of our white wearing maggots, What do I care if it is all sex appeal, Yes even the denial

Let us sit down for a moment and reflect on our sins taking a cane for a fly that perched on  our mouths as it stands in ablution Let me then marry you my heart my soul you alone know of these cold night I stayed and watch these demon flutter, when I also a person they measure my existence to  a painted paper I exist  a truthful Judas thinking if He must have said to himself this is the 40^th day it will sound more poetic 

The rain fell diagonally dangerous down the dumb man distinguished den made the canopy of god useless tears fell sideways denying the handkerchief money still remains the ultimate tar, I am in my cleanliness aqua phobic crab, Wishing I could put it all in writing as a ten year old boy getting ready for first communion, Sliding with the soles of flip-flops. Jumping,  laughing and teasing the only man that reminds us of the boy we once were, that make us.

The mirror knows it all. Those days I hold it and open my boucal cavity to it to inspect the only part of my skeleton I can, wait for whatever lies, Mama said she was lucky not there is a church a stone throw from all our houses and if we are found wanting in heaven it is definitely our fault, You know me and how I like to prove everybody wrong, by going from house to house with call histories

Futility is my breath Hopelessness is my words, of it alone I speak just like my lies, Your opinions could be flawed I rather we be human beings than religious robots But since he is my our old class mate we are playing games with God using reverse psychology whining him saying If indeed you are the god come down and do my chores In the car parks with the aerosol addicted Bible sniffing their armpit and it spreads fast like a rumor of death across the land, anything you have to support the ward of God it is well with your soul, He remains an elephant felt by blind men. But since the steadfastness of the lord never cease and his mercy never seems to come to an end they are new everyday even on judgement day

Pardon the perceived insolence I am using the one given to me last week, What if there is no good news to break what if life is just a bland mixture of species no gold in heaven no hell no bad news to tell nobody to spite and do you your I told you so's to 
Talents are curses and they stay as nooses in the dessert's baobab Here's to them and love in its everlasting formlessness and unintended like trying to hold a feeble baby or the wrinkle hands of old granny big beauty and the fulcrum we use is once again the dumb-talks spewing stupidity for all seasons to ruminate arguing fate and reason from the queer within

One day the queer in me will go away the part of me with love and that remain is hunger and primal feeding, the queer in me is in a quest to find love in a road spiked by the heels of old travelers who ran in embarrassment to go and kill for a lie they were sold and meet us halfway telling us "Paradise it exist still" and use the mocking laughter of their foolishness to propel themselves into an early grave, I truck on believing Its all perspective really as all that I write is as a result of flawed existence based on the reality I find myself in

Many a men born proud and believe they are special many a men taught humility and raised on the cycle of revenge and wickedness many a men indoctrinated in faith and taught to live in dogma many a indoctrinated born a aplenty and long for solidarity and get the matters

I swear they do no wonder plants grow alone they are not influenced by their peers and appraise their growth intrinsically unlike the camouflaged faithful filled with fate fickle and freckled in fictitious fallacies meant to form the fibre of the frail brain, Hatred the result of this unrequited love comes in different stages forms and sizes with the same heighty disdainful gruff miserliness of scrimping hauter glibness in obtuse zest dissipated diffident in sordid exacerbation Left with myself to discover thoughts about these secrets and sigh at the futile greed involve in every parent look into their child's eyes for the strength to abnegate

We all have that mud that blooms us that person that takes us to the deepest of lows It's plebiscite altitude my bellicosity which really is and was an exaggeration of the broken heartedness I prayed for. Still I overreacted trying to preach too, Jesus taught me how to be lazy he invented miracles,only germane if the vanity of my write up haunts me

by Victor Samuel