AN EVENING WITH MYSELF
Mr. Francis: Avoid sleep, get as little as possible
It’s the biggest enemy, if you sleep too much
Kids, when you die you’ll not sleep
In the grave your eyes shall be opened; wide awake
Because you’ve expended all the sleep assigned to you,
You hear?
All: YESSIR
I was among the all, Mr. Francis was my math teacher and a bit of a philosopher too.
My YESSIR still echoes in my ears every night even; even twenty years later
Sleep
I have a strict idea of sleep;
time spent shutting and unshutting eyes—so as not to exhaust all my sleep here—I want to sleep when I die.
My sleep starts—trying to solve to an arithmetical or philosophical argument and abruptly always ends to the rustle of ants in the cracks of the wall.
Pet
I have a gecko named Tigre
He comes out only at nights to eat mosquitoes, roaches and the spider that eats ants.
I never pat him, he never answers my calls—but then, does he have to?
Wife
The one I was going to have left before the ‘I do’ part
So I made me a friend who I miss when she’s not here
We don’t kiss or touch
Trust me I do it all in my dreams—even more!
Doing laundry in the morn’ I’d wonder what her dreams are shaped like.
Son
You don’t go for your in-law’s birthday, if you don’t have wife.
I have no son
But my nephew, Kay—you need to see him—us
He’s but my son.
Dad
The guy that brought me into this world
It still beats me why someone would do that
(Without my consent; he should be litigable for that!)
The church
The church will not get me
Like they got my mum, on Sundays
I smoke and drink till the ceiling spins
She said it’s ungodly so stayed away from…..
Occupation
Don’t have a need for one
I eat secondhand books, my manuscripts and aloneness
Hobby
Discovering cheap eateries!
Real
I have a square room all mine
This is all my estate; through my window those yonder mountains 10, 11 or 15 in all, I named and owned them each and all.
(And‘ll be dashing them out soon! Watch out!)
Age
My hair, thank goodness, aren’t graying yet
My beard came with some made-in-heaven grays that
At 29 made me wish am younger
Come to think of it
I have younger cousins than older ones
So I’m not a young man
Even if hate ageing.
Grooming
Starts with cleanliness and ends with a wall mirror
I’m clean—by medium yardsticks
As for mirror, I have one almost 4cm in diameter
So at the judgment of glass doors and windows
Is the assessment of my most potent outfits.
Secrets
I killed my ex-girl after a little tiff
And in quest for a place to hide her body
I boiled and (would have fried but for time, oil and electricity)
Ate her altogether; flesh, bones, nails and hairs.
Only to find myself in a bigger dream from where I must
have dozed off to kill her in a dreamlet.
Intel
My foremost possession
Is my wisdom (or the lack of it?)
Which I have garnered from reading or pretending to read
Pirated copies of unrated works
I’m wise—or so, I think.
No matter what you think.
Philosophy
No rules for night life
Day rules are;
Never stay too long in the toilet unless some serious thinking
needs to be done.
Neither a giver nor a taker be
Love the wife of your youth—otherwise love yourself
Do not do things you’ll be ashamed of—don’t be ashamed of the things you do.
Secretly covet the things you can’t have—publicly disparage them.
I don’t break any of these rules unless it’s absolutely necessary
But
I never transgress this:
Never pick calls you don’t have to pick.
Phone calls
Grr grr grr, phone rings
Green button pushed
‘Hello I’m in a meeting I’ll get back to you’
Red button pushed.
Am more often than not, truly in a meeting
In a meeting wit myself
The only disparity from the truth is that I never get back to calling my friends.
Friends
I’ve got a thousand without one
(I’ve not gotten a friend in you, even you,
all you all)
Poetry
‘I have those days still
On that remote hill
Hidden behind the blanket of seasons
Frisking with a friend whose memories reasons
Can’t take, I knew peace and quietness
And lost them all’
Such are my poems, I lost them too
Burnt them, inhale the smoke while planning for the future.
The future
Every coming day.
Future Dreams
To live till my dying day (mayhap own a black shinning steed too).
About me
I think I’m me.
To be continued.
It’s the biggest enemy, if you sleep too much
Kids, when you die you’ll not sleep
In the grave your eyes shall be opened; wide awake
Because you’ve expended all the sleep assigned to you,
You hear?
All: YESSIR
I was among the all, Mr. Francis was my math teacher and a bit of a philosopher too.
My YESSIR still echoes in my ears every night even; even twenty years later
Sleep
I have a strict idea of sleep;
time spent shutting and unshutting eyes—so as not to exhaust all my sleep here—I want to sleep when I die.
My sleep starts—trying to solve to an arithmetical or philosophical argument and abruptly always ends to the rustle of ants in the cracks of the wall.
Pet
I have a gecko named Tigre
He comes out only at nights to eat mosquitoes, roaches and the spider that eats ants.
I never pat him, he never answers my calls—but then, does he have to?
Wife
The one I was going to have left before the ‘I do’ part
So I made me a friend who I miss when she’s not here
We don’t kiss or touch
Trust me I do it all in my dreams—even more!
Doing laundry in the morn’ I’d wonder what her dreams are shaped like.
Son
You don’t go for your in-law’s birthday, if you don’t have wife.
I have no son
But my nephew, Kay—you need to see him—us
He’s but my son.
Dad
The guy that brought me into this world
It still beats me why someone would do that
(Without my consent; he should be litigable for that!)
The church
The church will not get me
Like they got my mum, on Sundays
I smoke and drink till the ceiling spins
She said it’s ungodly so stayed away from…..
Occupation
Don’t have a need for one
I eat secondhand books, my manuscripts and aloneness
Hobby
Discovering cheap eateries!
Real
I have a square room all mine
This is all my estate; through my window those yonder mountains 10, 11 or 15 in all, I named and owned them each and all.
(And‘ll be dashing them out soon! Watch out!)
Age
My hair, thank goodness, aren’t graying yet
My beard came with some made-in-heaven grays that
At 29 made me wish am younger
Come to think of it
I have younger cousins than older ones
So I’m not a young man
Even if hate ageing.
Grooming
Starts with cleanliness and ends with a wall mirror
I’m clean—by medium yardsticks
As for mirror, I have one almost 4cm in diameter
So at the judgment of glass doors and windows
Is the assessment of my most potent outfits.
Secrets
I killed my ex-girl after a little tiff
And in quest for a place to hide her body
I boiled and (would have fried but for time, oil and electricity)
Ate her altogether; flesh, bones, nails and hairs.
Only to find myself in a bigger dream from where I must
have dozed off to kill her in a dreamlet.
Intel
My foremost possession
Is my wisdom (or the lack of it?)
Which I have garnered from reading or pretending to read
Pirated copies of unrated works
I’m wise—or so, I think.
No matter what you think.
Philosophy
No rules for night life
Day rules are;
Never stay too long in the toilet unless some serious thinking
needs to be done.
Neither a giver nor a taker be
Love the wife of your youth—otherwise love yourself
Do not do things you’ll be ashamed of—don’t be ashamed of the things you do.
Secretly covet the things you can’t have—publicly disparage them.
I don’t break any of these rules unless it’s absolutely necessary
But
I never transgress this:
Never pick calls you don’t have to pick.
Phone calls
Grr grr grr, phone rings
Green button pushed
‘Hello I’m in a meeting I’ll get back to you’
Red button pushed.
Am more often than not, truly in a meeting
In a meeting wit myself
The only disparity from the truth is that I never get back to calling my friends.
Friends
I’ve got a thousand without one
(I’ve not gotten a friend in you, even you,
all you all)
Poetry
‘I have those days still
On that remote hill
Hidden behind the blanket of seasons
Frisking with a friend whose memories reasons
Can’t take, I knew peace and quietness
And lost them all’
Such are my poems, I lost them too
Burnt them, inhale the smoke while planning for the future.
The future
Every coming day.
Future Dreams
To live till my dying day (mayhap own a black shinning steed too).
About me
I think I’m me.
To be continued.
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