Browsing Category



The white collar Men


Picture art by – Oluhyperclassical
Poem by – Presholives

All we do is work
waking up around
4am to avoid traffic taking a 30 secs bath
and forgetting to eat breakfast is our normal routine.

Paper works all the way
Pen and white sheets have become our friends
Our fingers never leaves the our Laptop keyboard
The internet has also become our best friend.

Parties,Clubbing are our old friends.
We hardly have time for those.
All we do is work work work!!!
but we love it anyways because the pay is worth it!


We were meant to be best buddies.


You came into my life like a breeze
A part of this breeze whispers friendship, but the other part whispers love.

I became confused, wiggled
and wrestled for an answer
but I couldn’t get one.
I needed answers to my
many questions..

But now I think
I’ve gotten an answer
We were meant to be best buddies.



Surprise them. DON’T GIVE UP


You think no one’s watching???
Hey! Turn around
You see them?

They are watching you
They want to know your next move
They want to know what you’re up to?
What’s your next decision?

Surprise them
Don’t give up!!!


If you forget me


I want you to know 
one thing. 

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine.

By Pablo


Black’s ryde!!!


We’re black
Heads up high
Glory to glory
No long story
Shining black body
Haters Looking frowzy
Skies becoming cloudy
Cuz we’re black,we don’t slack
Our chin don’t crack
Still we don’t shout
And matter how they try,we still don’t sag.

Black women ryde!!!
We ryde.
                – Presh Olives