Traversing life’s, muted Crescendo’s

L. B. Mek


Posterity’s filters, stifling legacies

Imagination, mind’s existential erudition 

Thought, where all is hypothetical 

Creativity, reality’s abstracted exposition 


Flowing like Poetry’s tear ducts

Escaping, our multiplicative deliberations 

Dogpaddling our syllable rivers 

Inspiration squared: Poesy’s mathematics 


In each blink a tsunami of sensations 


Barren reveries as existence’s taxing 



Chance as judge, to inherited circumstance

Newborns delivered into a pigeonhole 

Our life’s preordained by a birth certificate 

Happenstance as ignorance’s sinkhole 


Childhoods kidnaped by fate’s, asthmatic


Warzone survival tattoos inking, destitute 



Inked deep, skin bleeding diaspora bleakness 

Mirror clouding self-worth’s, connate

Asking why skin colours differentiate 

Some fortuitous, other’s labelled a weakness


Traversing life, without changing our societal


Systemically segregated, herded to free climb 



Defying imperialism’s warping of culture 

Curating pride with pijin tongue, defiance


Damini’s cathartic musicality 

Oga Abeg, abeg, abeg

Wetin I do they pree me too

O why, O why, O why


When they see us move ahead

They be scheming, plotting 

Insuring we remain entrenched 

In that same woe n lament


Sighing, exasperated by that

Absentee silence 

Be it a deity or that big bang  

Scrabbling science 


Heartache shrapnel accumulating

In every pulsing, regret

Pandering to that red string, ache

Ghost smiles that resent,


It’s just another moonless night

Scribbling our poetic might

Memories ‘O’, carry me ‘O’

Spare me from Aurora’s sorrow 


Lonesome’s waning, rainbows

Sprouting dark cloud rhymes

My body done dey tire eh

My head done scatter eh 


Memory’s ahh-oh

Ferry me ahh-oh

Grant a reprieve 

So I may glimpse 


Those idyllic Abyssinia fields 

I’ll rest my fight 

Where it all began, heed these

Tears, as sincere


Memories ahh-oh

Carry me go

Abeg, abeg, abeg

Carry me go


What’s it gonna be

A crescendo hurrah


A surrendered sigh


It matters little

If we learn to cherish

Sweet breath

Ye, uh-huh Ye, Ye, Ye


You fit no dey tomorrow

Best count every second!


Smiling, Up

At moody, clouds

Is victory enough

For some…



© L. B. Mek

March 2023

  • Author: L. B. Mek (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 10th, 2023 03:33
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 28
  • User favorite of this poem: Bella Shepard.


  • 2781

    Wow, there's a lot in that!

    • L. B. Mek

      forgive me, I get carried away sometimes

      • 2781

        No need to apologise, it stretched me.

      • sorenbarrett

        so much said in the first stanza alone. As in all good writing the first is a summation of what is to follow. I love the poetic description of fate at birth. We are all destined to prejudice of one sort or another. It seems to be in the human condition to discriminate. I have given up discriminating against skin color, health conditions, gender but still find myself discriminating against those that try to take advantage of me or harm me. I'm working on that. The whys of why some are born to such terrible situations gos answered. "Spare me from Aurora's sorrow" This line hit deep. Is it the awakening knowledge that light brings that brings regret? Carpe diem my dear friend.

        • L. B. Mek

          What an acute distillation
          of my concussed scribble
          I can but thank you, cherished friend
          for all the time you invest, in trying to make sense
          of my feeble efforts, may karma reward your kindness
          'Carpe noctem' dear Poet
          salut! 🍻

        • Bella Shepard

          I find dear friend, that the hardest thing in this world to change is a mind. I think of these song lyrics from the musical "South Pacific"

          "You've got to be taught
          To hate and fear,
          You've got to be taught
          From year to year,
          It's got to be drummed
          In your dear little ear
          You've got to be carefully taught.
          You've got to be taught to be afraid
          Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
          And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,
          You've got to be carefully taught.
          You've got to be taught before it's too late,
          Before you are six or seven or eight,
          To hate all the people your relatives hate,
          You've got to be carefully taught!"

          Predjuice has been passed down generation to generation without questioning why. This is such a powerful truth you put before us, superbly written! Thank you.

          • L. B. Mek

            'You've got to be taught
            To hate and fear,'
            what wisdom you've shared, thank you!
            (indeed, so much of our prejudice
            we're insidiously indoctrinated within
            during our defenceless childhood years
            where we assume, we have no choice
            in following opinions and believes
            so we can belong, to those people
            we fear we'll be lost, without)
            so glad you enjoyed the read my kind friend
            thank you! for the support

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