Financial literacy

The world got lost in not understanding

And the makings of it;

The handling and mending of money.

Knowledge of this medium is important:

It is really the crux of our lives.

Yes we are not supposed to bow to money,

But we do use it;

It is indeed our integral part.

It is of education that he/she

Of a thin purse can build a tower

Taller than that of the one with

A thicker and proud purse.

The greatest literacy to deal with money

Is to never impress.

Strip off any form of pride.

Don’t compete with anyone else.

The greatest wisdom is to be blind.

Put into the trolley what you came for.

Lock your sound captors away from the bell

And all the so-called promotions.

Strangle your impulses.

If you get into credit-it be for assets:

Assets generate passive income:

And lastly, loans are not for partying.

Conversation

 When you roll through the streets:

When all the sounds heard by the

World distant does not reach

One and one; or one by one;

Soul talk:

Consumed by soul’s ears too.

Walks and talks of nakedness:

Stripping off all for knowledge.

A chat with life and about life:

A hand holding the other:

A hand pull done,

Not in rejection:

Taken to a well of gestures;

Fetching for more expression:

Her little pokes on one ‘shoulders.

Oh! Relieving indeed.

Their strides are in unison:

Calm and reverent to their existence.

Each and every touch is emotive.

Fuel to a hunk of love.

There is time for expression.

Tongues can roll at a distance.

That isn’t seen-passion.

Oh the heart’s passion.

The last kisses

The pores of the canvas chose to perch:

And the fauna and the flora were

Given no option but to parch.

The sweet melons evanesced.

Everything lost sense.

Time breathes like pretence.

The shoulders of the farmers

Are losing boldness.

A goodbye to a lover

Brings back the last kiss:

Kisses of happy souls-sweet.

Sweet in absence gives no ‘thank you’

Vile streams of all times.

Everything withers with the last kiss.

Oh! How it pierces so fiercely.

But it all goes.

Time is just around the corner.

Nowadays’ time-everything is misplaced.

Sombre songs: dirges are about to play.

Ground graves soon to leave wombs:

Stench paralysing the sense of smell.

All is just nigh:

Blight to all of creation.

Everything is vanishing.

The only poems

Dear god, thank you.

I bow for the poems that saw

The rising of the sun;

Poems that behaved like breaking petals:

Definitions of birth.

Poems that saw mirth of days:

Poems that were painted with the rainbow.

Thanks for the poems that

Struck the skulls and broke off:

The poems that crushed the throats

Because they could no longer

Take threats coupled with pretence.

Thanks for the breaking of dawn:

The sun- the womb that carries new ink;

Irksome are closed poems.

We bow for every pen tip that

Kissed between the lines with passion.

We bow for every motion and mark:

Tanks brimming with meaning.

Yanks of positive affirmations.

Oh! Soul constructions.

Oh! Solomons of pages.

Oh! Breakers of cages.

We bow to the poems that left wombs.

To tell about you

I know that my hands are not yours:

And your arms are not mine.

But you see, every time I held your hand,

I had and heard stories.
Every time you spat words,

I failed to pay attention to your lips;

I listened to your heart.

I am not a psychic.

There is a connection when you are around.

I get linked to you through chatting.

I get close to you when I hold you:

Greetings, pats and good-byes.

Even in quietness you call me:

In quietness you tell me your dreams

Because in quietness you speak hunks.

To tell about you-I heard from you.

Dear, you are not the slave,

I am the slave.

I am not reading you,

But time told about you to me:

All your likes and dislikes:

They were whispered to my soul by time.

Don’t be alarmed, I will not make you nailed,

But I will always tell about your taste buds.

No reason

I abhor reasons;
I do not want to labour them:
My sound captors too are tired.
Some footsteps are just hired to tell.
Every season has got reasons:
Reasons can be cooked.
Maybe every reason is a purpose.
Some will sweep the board;
Others will leave bare-handed.

If you tell me positive reasons:
Reasons of birds flying higher
Than others of flipping wings in formation
Like the wise geese.
Oh! Then it’s sweet.
Winners haven’t heard ‘why questions’
Because ‘why questions’ befell
The indolent palms.
Reasons can make one blue.

If we listened to reasons,
The clock wasn’t going to be steady.
We need to lose compassion for
Us to move and make responsible humanity.
We need to say, ‘no! you failed’.
We have to grant spines to ‘because’.
Reasons are cloying to the tongue
That so releases them.
Oh! Nicotine to failure.

How are you?

I have got words of love to tell:
I do cry to your parching and blues.
I came to support you so you could not fall.
I have got words of love to tell:
Greenish looks is the next sequel.
Those are not beautiful hues.
I have got words of love to tell:
I do cry to your parching and blues.

Loved you so

I have loved all plants,

Even those that I haven’t known.

They fill my entrails,

So it is that I fell for them.

So it is that a belly-filler

May fall into my garden without my knowledge

I don’t hoe it

Mistaking it for a demon.

Dear, I did my weeding,

But I couldn’t shear you off:

I will not mistake you for that.

I have watched weeds bloom,

I gave them time- to observe them

And come to know their behaviour.

You stagnated the growth of my herbs

And I have nothing to burn.

I loved you so.

You took off to the wrong route.

No! You were not wrong:

It was your route.

I wanted to give you time:

Give us time to grow and love.

But you took me for a fool.

I am crestfallen right now

A lover’s anthem

I love you with every bit of me:

Enamoured to love from my every portion.

My love is just like that of a hen

When it encloses its chicks into

Its wings to shield them from foes.

My arms are your aegis:

Your castle at all times.

The air I breathe, it is the one

That is meant to bring you laughter

And let you live longer.

It is to me: me and you

That we are entwined like pieces of a basket.

I am your herald of love.

We sit on the outside- love-seat.

I love you so and I melt into you;

You smile and grin.

Oh! She is into someone’s arms.

It is like we are on a picnic.

Oh! Damn! Why did I explore the

Other side of the world?

Good-bye my lover-I loved you dearly.

Lies

The economy develops new buds.

It is a time and again issue.

When pits called economies grow,

They tend to bury their people.

What’s so perfect in economic growth?

He who works is visible from the skin:

But though blankets of nationality shine,

Their inhabitants are grey donkeys.

Monkeys are better,

They can climb high in hard times.

Gross Domestic Product,

It is a hallucination:

Gross Domestic Product- it is dismal.

Inequality is not great bread:

It is not bread at all.

But the man at the top smiles.

The proletarians sweat.

It is a sweat of naught.

Infinite heights of growth of nations,

They are egregious:

There is nothing precious.

Economies are menace to their people.

Don’t applaud lies of figures:

They are cooked in lying pots.