Alter Ego

 

I'm an expert on the less affectionate things

I have passion for the darker phenomenon

So attracted its more like a jinx

Unlike others I fail to blend like a chameleon

So I ask, "What is it that craves the darkness in me??"

"Where from the satisfaction gained when I see the adversary being hailed as the rosary??"

There, in my absurdity I kiss away the pending victory…

 Scraping the ink off history

I'm just applying my darker alter egos; doomy and gloomy

Confession is, you are listening to the prophet of doom

I smell it from a distance and I don't even need to zoom…

I don't give respect for free just because you are a goon

I would rather run from a twisted tongue

Even the son of the morning shivers to a conceited monk

For senseless is being proud of a proud nature

Despised even by the darker "me"

For loyalty and respect is accepted in every scheme

Revered and hailed in every kingdom

Rejecting these mythical legends casts you n a sitcom

These pieces of disjointed words are candies of wisdom…

NQM®

Dec, 2011.

Just A Poem

I know this is the worst time to write a poem…

But I cannot resent a genuine feeling…

This is the story of my life tormenting me like “Bio-Chem”

It is just a pint of understanding I'm seeking…

Like the bottom of my treasure chest is leaking…

Reeking of defeat when seeking emotional healing

The thought of this catastrophe sends me reeling to the ground…

She calls my nightmare a privilege rarely found

My breathe turns into a sound of a struck hound in bondage

Bonded by the heart and rejected by the head…

My young blood already feeling the hinges of old age

The irony of an unqualified love is like an old woman's cleavage to a youth…

Worthless as lyrics to the deaf; Senseless like a newspaper to an illiterate

Aches in the joints, screams of silence; echoes of arguments

A home of chaos and a land of absurdities…

Feels like I'm competing in “The World's Craziest” after auditioning for “Mr & Mrs Egocentric”

A heart venture looking like a bad joke… Now, its just the dignity of love carrying the “mafia” yoke…

Don't blame my conscience if my heart is broke

Wishing I wasn't the bearer of this ink… but its not my fingers but my heart ascribing this scroll…

NQM®

2011.

Words Of The Lonely

My mornings are damp and dim
My heart is so heavy, my face is
long and slim
I hear screams in my chest and
wails in my head
The flow in my viens is dead
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Loneliness is louder than the
traffic at rush hour
More painful than a small needle
straight through the heart
Its your surest way to burn
calories
My energy is draining, I need new
batteries
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My nights are cold and long
My pillows are the victims of
every possible assault
Yet my bed screehes like a belly-
filled parrot
My heartburns feels like they've
been paid for
My soul is in the blinder... been
gnashed
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There are tales of earthly angels
There are talks of beauty that
melts scars from the temples
A soul-mate that drives away the
lonely wrinkles
But there are not enough zeros in
my accounts
Since its the only thing bought for
me
I will kiss loneliness till destiny
changes my waters...
Nana Quajo Manuel®
©2010**

The Catalyst - Spoken Word

The Catalyst

Twisted is my craft
And in my creativity they seem
daft
For I'm going down a shaft
Do not follow me down this path
A minute in my world and you
are due a fiery bath
You can’t solve this equation, its
not school math
I'm misunderstood
So devilishly I'm pecked like wood
And I wonder if it’s from
childhood
But nothing seems to be cool
In trying to understand, they are
an epitome of fools
Crying as they drown in their own
saliva
As I am, their folly will never be
over
They love to watch me sink
But I’m as annoying as ink
Make sure your cloth is not white
It stops you from being bright
It’ll feel like an accidental murder
in your hall
You have enough time to change
like Paul
Before destiny scraps you off the
wall.
Nana Quajo Manuel®
©2010

Poetry Is water for the Heart and Music; food to the soul!

Nostalgia

It’s the sick feeling
that runs in your blood at that
awkward time
The annoying slimy
nausea that sticks in the throat
like expired food
Bringing me to
the brink of a tolerance
breakdown at that unexpected
time
Yet relentlessly making it
worse and flipping the impulsive
switch to that impulsive
mood
Flashes and flashes of the
forgotten pleasures streaming
through my head like Ford on the
Tema Motorway..Crowding my
thoughts and slowing my
aggression as it explodes as a
thorough session of rigorous
attention and altering my
intentions
I speak of she that has
been supposedly expelled from
my bosom; sliced and cast down
last like Lucifer from the Heavenly
Kingdom
She is the apple I tasted
and relished; the tender and
sweet-scented shape that robbed
my body - the immaculate lips
that locked mine in immeasurable
ecstasy But the venom that
paralyzed me, the smoke that
blackened my lungs and the
dagger that pierced my heart'' I
love you'', she says,'' I never
forgot you... You are the best!''
Such cliche language she speaks
as her breathe touches my
cheeks.... Dancing around like a
puppy doll with new batteries;
obviously the madness is in her
arteries
She's a wasted fruit and a
queen exiled for debauchery
As
fake as political ceremonies and
as plastic as Michael Jackson's
nose... '' For old times sake...'',
she spills out. My head spinning
and whirling round...But snap! I
kick out of it! I escape the grips of
nostalgia that for a minute stuck
me to the ground
No more
vulnerable to this hound, her
smiles make no sound as I lick my
wound
But oh! I must've
forgotten; my wounds are dead!
Nana Quajo Manuel®
©2011