DUET _ 'ON THE OTHER SIDE' BY PACIOLO, EM_EM...

TZEBLON:

Where numbers were wished to become valuable notes,

barrows are made to carter their nothern struggles,

butterflies dare not tread these places– it wings might see the face of doom/ even lions succumb to its travails at times...

Don't walk these plains if you don't have the ear for noise– of thievery, anger, hustle and maybe the audible sobs of an empty stomach,

On this side... I am still there,

we sell our sweats for a penny

so don't come near if you don't have the arm for struggles,

an eye for ruthlessness,

legs for swiftiness– who knows when the men in black will go berserk again...

Valour is all that matters on this side

and that's why we are still breathing

so tell them...

these streets ain't just for poets...

Like I used to say.

(2)PACIOLO PEN SAINT:

The first crack lines

on the other side you see,

are butchered fountains of hope.

Those struggles are driven by "at least"

don't let our grave mock us,

dying not feeling at home "again".

The second crack noises you hear,

like the roars of the OAU lions.

Pale - sick but weave with fury.

Yeah, just that - rage - nothing more...

The crack lines/voices behind the wall of our lives,

on the other side of the street

ain't for poet / but strong poets

who still can scribe/not the dead ones who've given up but still live.

(3)ABISOLA:

The sacred memory_better locked in Oblivion,

trembling feet of ill_fated,

walls of facade

wih a glamorous appearance

glittering shone all a mirage.

Lies the stone_which mustn't be turned

for in it begot tools of destruction.

Sweet sounds of pain agonize the dwellers

where death is soothing

on the other side lies the most dreadful

history of mankind.

(4)AZEEZ WIZDAD SEBASTIAN:

On the other side, lies

blind heart: swimming in his sweat

heading to verge of nowhere in eve

to dredge his sepulchre

For who knows? He said

of what rain the fountain would pour.

On the other side, stucks

half-closed effete eyes,

being Fueled by fountain of "at least",

to sleep not.

but to rubberneck life in reverse.

So tell the snake 

to not walk his path.

This is a rock without pebbles

for legs with no nails walks not.

Sip not with him

from the gloomy tears 

He seeks in nights..

Oh!.. Sit on the other side of terrace,

it is a prisoner of war: whose eyes might not catch 'morrow

!

(5)EM_EM:

Where chicks are entitlement 

to wild eagles - daily meal, 

and the latter are carcasses 

to sky hunters for fat belly

Where eye-catching  dreams 

could only come true,

at times the nose grunts 

and during every moment 

all bodies strike poses,

for clear and clean shot.

Yes, this very side,

we value sewerages over beverages,

open skies over thatched roofs

and whenever the moon visits

our lips widen their coast.

TZEBLON,

PACIOLO PEN SAINT,

ABISOLA

SEBASTIAN

and EM_EM.