The Lady of His Dreams


He calls for her sometimes,
whenever he closes his eyes,
wherever his body lies.
Impromptu, she takes take him away,
be it night or day,
even when he lies with bae.

She hopes he would stay one day;
she cannot get enough.
Right before he goes away,
right before he opens his eyes,
she wipes his memories of her off.

She is his mistress,
but he does not know her yet.
She has gorgeous breasts and soulful eyes,
and we all call her “Death”.

On the night of his 75th birthday,
after many years of sweet sex,
she will propose to him while he is asleep,
and, of course, he will tell her “yes”.


The Man of My Dreams

Many times a week, after we stopped talking, I would have several dreams of him- terribly stressful dreams that would make me cry. In those dreams, I would anxiously wait for him in the church that I grew up in, that we grew up in- where we first met, or in an unknown, deserted place, but he would ignore me.

He never remembered our initial meeting when we first began to talk, as much as I tried to get him to, but I did, very clearly. He was with his friends, and since they were so tall, they looked intimidating to me. He stretched his right hand out towards me and I put mine in his briefly, before asking my question. The question was about a creative-arts program that was to be held, if I remember correctly. I thanked him, and walked back to my guardian or friend, I cannot remember which.

The dream that made me cry the most was the one in which I was talking to him but he was avoiding eye contact and walking away, leaving me in an unknown place.

I had a very similar dream before we stopped talking, and I narrated everything that I could remember to him. I had not been in contact with him for over a week at that time and I was beginning to worry, and as soon as I remembered the dream, after he texted me, I gave him the details. I did not understand that it was a prediction then, and that a little excuse for walking away was all that he needed. We had a little, insignificant quarrel, and he milked the argument so much that my heart lost its perkiness.

Nine months after, just when I thought that I had moved on, that my soul was healed and I was free, although I had occasionally, very intensely hoped that he would text me, I saw him again. It looked like a children’s program was being held at the church. I sat and waited for him in one of the seats at the back, and I saw him pass me by. He did not notice me.

He looked very sad, and his hair was so full and unkempt. I had never seen that much hair on his head. I watched him sit on one of the chairs at the front of the hall. I wanted to walk over to him to say hello but I could not. In the first few dreams, I did the talking. In all the other ones, neither of us spoke to the other. I only watched him and hoped that he would talk to me, but that was it.

After he sat, I went over to the speaker who had the microphone and whispered something into her ears about the children she was addressing. The few sentences that I made were acknowledged- she nodded. I walked back towards my seat and out of the hall, hoping that the distraction would make him notice me. I made sure not to look at him this time.

Ileke idi

I went into a little room with a sleeping mat on it and I laid down. Immediately I dozed off, someone banged on the door. I jolted out of my sleep and screamed his name. I looked up to see if it was him, but it was not. It was my younger brother. He made fun of me the way he does every time any reference to him- the him- is made in my home.

I woke up, and asides the perspiration and tiredness that I noticed, my muscles were sore. My whole being was sore; I cried like never before.

This is me coming to terms that it is over, that he is not coming back, that I have left that church, that he does not love me as much, or at all. This is me letting go off the broken karmic tie and resigning to fate. This is me dying, accepting that my yin will never be balanced with his yang. This is me at the funeral of our attraction and love that died long ago. This is the ninth month, and when I had the dream at around 8 pm today, I birthed my stillborn.

Winslow Homer - The Gulf Stream


Love Can Now See; He Wants Everything.

"Bouquet' by an unknown artist

Love is not blind anymore;
I worry about the things he can see.
He does not want to talk some more;
he wants me in bed on three.
I consciously mask my imperfections
so he’ll choose and stay with me.
He says my boobs and butt are small;
I think about increasing them by three.
Our boat is on rough seas
but all he wants to do is flee.

He says he wants freedom, 
and she’s not me.

Requited lust.
Unrequited love.
It’s interesting how the lines between love and lust have been skewed.

I’ve Carried Me for Years, My Darling


“Two Eggs (violet)” by Tom Gregg

In a world were most of us, eggs,
have been taken away from our innocence,
removed from the bosoms of our mothers,
placed outside our crates
and forced to harden up,
I want to remain as I am, as I was,
in this terribly hot conditions.
Why don’t you remain raw with me, my darling?

Although we’ve been terribly hurt,
I’ll roll to you,
and you’ll roll to me,
and when we do,
we’ll close our eyes and
swim in each other’s insides,
roll in each other’s albumen,
bungee jump on each other’s yolks.

Do you remember how you felt
the first time you were in love?
I beg you to let me love you.
I’m not going to hurt you;
I don’t want to.
Look into my eyes.
Can’t you tell that I terribly love you?
Why don’t you be vulnerable too?


Let’s Be Friends

Max Ginsburg: The Friends

Max Ginsburg: The Friends

I sincerely, deeply care about you;
I want to always be here, and there, for you.
In this world, where good friends are few,
I want to make this new experience true.
I want you to know, that I really do love you.


‘True Love’ is a Tautology

Cherished Moments

Cherished Moments (Romantic Couple)Gerald Ivey 24×36 Black

Love is true;
love has to be true.
If it is not true love,
it is not love at all.


He’s Commitment Phobic

Primavera, 24x24, oil on panel

Primavera, 24×24, oil on panel by Richard J Demato

He dug so perfectly well
and worked very hard,
but as soon as he came to the water of life,
he went from being so good
to being very bad.
He took to his heels as fast as he could,
and lost the nourishment that all
his work was supposed to bring.
Isn’t it unfortunate that a well-digger is dying of thirst
because of his fear of water?

Brief Analysis: When a man hops from woman to woman, he lives a very empty, unfulfilled life. “Digging through a well” is used as a metaphor for having sex in this short poem. It’d be silly, of course, or stupid, to think that is all a woman- a whole magnificent being- is good for. If you are lucky enough to get a woman who loves you and is willing to be and stay with you, it’d be unfortunate to not appreciate that, and recognize that with her by your side, there is nothing you can’t do.

26+ Questions to Consider in a Love Relationship


“Osun” [Artist Unknown]

Ask yourself these questions about your significant other:

1. Do they make me feel safe?
2. Do they make me feel anxious?
3. Do they make me feel less than they are, or do they make me feel like their equal?
4. Do they boost my self-esteem or kill it?
5. Do they make me smile or laugh?
6. Do they appreciate my talents and work, however amateur?
7. Has this person shown me that I can trust them?
8. Would I consider them a good person?
9. Are they appreciative?
10. Are they loving/caring?
11. Do they respect me?
12. Do they apologize whenever they are wrong?
13. Do they want what’s best for them, or what’s best for us?
14. Do they understand me, or have a desire to?
15. Do they want to hear me speak, and do they listen when I do?
16. Do they make plans to see me and stick to them?
17. Do we share similar values?
18. Have they hinted that they are not interested in a relationship?
19. Have I been honest with what I’m looking for in a partner?
20. Am I just lonely or do I enjoy spending time with them?
21. Do I think they’re physically attractive? Is that the only reason I like them?
22. If I was in trouble, could I call this person and ask for help?
23. Do I think he/she loves me? How have they shown it to me that they do, if they claim to?
24. Has this person physically or verbally abused me, directly or indirectly?
25. Would I trust this person to be around my children?
26. What does this person lack that I said I really wanted in a partner? Would I be okay/happy without it?

Written by Reid [] + Aderonke []


I’m Not Your Little Negro Girl

He wants to be my knight.
I have noticed his random displays of might.
He gazes at me seductively whenever I’m in sight,
but all I can predict is a sorry plight.
How can you be the one that I’d keep warm at night
if you don’t think everyone should be treated right?


I AM beINg PAtIeNt

I hope you’ll see sooner,
that I am your other,
that we ought to be together,
that we can make each other stronger.
I can be your healer,
and you can be my lover,
and vice-versa.
I’ve loved you since I was much younger,
and I’ll love you forever.