some spend for arabian oil scent
others dare to seek in wide dry places
for some flakes of ice in arabian deserts
but greatest treasure hides in hearts
and a heart of hand that gifts lavender
retains the fragrance of ethereal flower

i know neither the fragrance of love
nor clue on how rare it is found
but when a mother chooses for us
to expend her box of gold for our course
i seek no more to know scents of love
for it bears fragrance like mum's

scent of love | jonnyworks gallery

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cry no more for me, old bird
blue cloud is now dry of tears
fall is gentle on thirsty leaves
and your nest is every beauty
that a sweet home could be
every thing life could give is you
but I must fly, old bird
far from your comfort tie
away to a call of the wild
for I am schoolchild of sky

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Sometimes, to quiet mirror I retire;
Reflect man of wisdom and silence.
In solitude, enemies of birds I write.

I write, wisdom with flying colours,
gray hair, scholar, a wise king;
rich in voice and anatomist.

I write, anatomy of oppression
likened to horrors of crucifixion;
screams and tears of voiceless.

I write, words that hide under my tongue,
and silence like hammer wears iron hand,
fastening steel nails to frail palms.

I write, sighs of wings muted in cages.
Pure noise in Eden sinks to despair and sadness.
And wisdom is caught in bed with silence.

Silence and I | Jonnyworks Gallery

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Now that we've all agreed here is prison,
I am almost settled in my own cell,
except for a pity I have for short-handed inmates.
I can't write them, they can't grasp it.

So, as always, I write for the long hands
who make hole through their boxes
and grab anything and everything from life
At every morning that life passes by.

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WHY DOES DRY SEASON BRING SUCH HARSH HEAT

Isn't the sun hotter than furnace,
yet glimmers beautiful the day with gold light.

And why do gold ores seem unfinished
without chastising them through heat.

When God tamed volcanoes that shoot to the sky,
he didn't banish this hated heat

instead he invented shooting stars
we may admire as they fall hot from sky.

Spreading rainbows of fireworks at Christmas
are still colour shots from burning heat.

Or perhaps you mean to ask
"why does heat cause dehydration and illness".

Well, ask healing rain.
Ask whether it will fall without heat.

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far be it, even from my evil lips
nor my tongue should speak of it
Should I burden my soul with these
sweet words that negotiate blood heist
or inked quill that seals a price list
One that blood buyer put forward to enrich

for I do not know a weight of a curse
if in such ways I fatten my purse
nor why our paths crossed
in such deep ways of divine work
as we emerge from one forge

where we share the same blood
where we share the same womb
milk of the same breast we suck
my brother
the passion that hatch scratch
on a tiniest hair on your body
be it far, even from my evil heart

for therein I make no mess of such power
even if my mind should find evil to harbor
like rare bond of Esau and Jacob
never shall I see our strength enfeebled
in this blood bond of brotherhood

Brotherhood | Jonnyworks Gallery

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if only you listen to this uncommon tone
that speaks similitudes of snow goose and crow
that among all that glitters are also moonstone
that bed of roses still has tons of thorn

that when a toddler winters in snow
a teen is basking in harmattan cold
that this rain that rises from white soil of London
eventually falls on black hair of Gabon

that when the same raindrop speaks pitter patter
in Asia, its tongue is heard clearly in Antarctica
and if rain knows not a cage like map
but wets every ground with feet of man

then we should listen to that common ground
for rain whispers to it some wise sound
sonic tone sent from all-seeing cloud
watching all creatures clamped down

by that which should unites us all
but wielded in wrong hands of gods
pushing grieves that rise to heave the sky
making our earth again begin its cry

Rain Without Borders | Jonnyworks Gallery

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I am a creature moulded into a shell
Of darkness and of horror
When lights of the sky found me
my door cracked open
But they saw broken

I am a creature born of flower
Of beauties and of honour
When wings of bee caressed me
my core felt pollened
But they called it fallen

I am neither man nor woman
In state chains, in pale freedom
When infamous it is to enfeeble
The burden of false construct
Then desire that shell to come off
To realise enigma and I are common

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A surreal moment comes when he will take you by your hand, a warm firm grip rushes through your veins till your spine sinks deeper to the softness of your cushion, your eyes open to the wavy float of romance over the street waters of Venice, fine intricate details of art of venetian architecture feeds colours to your soul, and you are tucked in, entirely, faraway from noise of naija coast into the crafted lines of enchantment that forms the body of a masterpiece story. That moment comes, it always does.

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love the rain that never fall
without ions that call kids to fun;
crystal diamonds that glitter the floor,
graciously down it comes.

dance a wet dance like the teens.
sing a great song as if rain hears.
free a soul beyond the blue lines,
where sea and sky kiss the land.

for it is known, as muddy memories
wash down in pitter-patter drops,
its healing diamonds earth floods
all through our broken bonds.

So, as watered roots,
we shall rise to fruits.

Healing Rain | Jonnyworks Gallery

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