Status Change

When you go to bed
a bride
and wake up
a widow,
the world becomes
an unseasoned chicken.
Breathing becomes
a bag of rocks
dragging you
underwater to
the land of darkness
and thorns.
– Kayo Logun



People are starting to gather, they must be thinking I am crazy, they must be wondering what could make me want to take my own life.

The face looking down at me with his brows kissing is my reason for hanging from the veranda railings of a 25th floor flat. He didn’t realise I am this crazy.

To be fair, I didn’t realize I am this crazy too but when you are a thirty-two year old virgin and a man you thought you could trust tries to rape you, you run to the veranda of his flat, hang off the railings and attempt to jump to your death without thinking.


She loved orange
It reminded her
Of sunset.

The priest said you left
because your sun had set.

Now she hates Orange.


When the world refuses
To echo your cries.
When your child fades
Between your bony legs.
When her eyes cuts you
Like a saw, begging you
To give her life again
But your breath is
Diseased and your hands
Are too weak to soothe
Her burning skin.
When your tears is the
Only salt you can offer
Her tasty tongue.
When the World refuses
To echo your cries,
Take a deep breath
Ans scream again.

Drop Dead Gorgeous

Doctor John had always been blunt, too blunt for a doctor. On many occasions, he had almost gotten himself killed by patients’ families. His appointment for the afternoon is Chantel, a drop dead gorgeous young thing. He had known her since she was a baby and had watched her grow into a brilliant young lady.
Five years ago, she came up with an idea that would change the world. She and two other tech wizards worked day and night to make the idea a reality but there was something missing. Last night, she discovered what it was and planned to reveal this to her colleagues at a dinner tonight, but first she had to get her test result from the hospital.
As soon as Chantel stepped into the room in her sparkling dinner dress, Doctor John said
” That is a lovely dress but you should keep it clean for next week as you have                         only five days to live”
Chantel dropped dead.


Cause blood stinks like iron, we adorn our bodies with Lavender and Jasmine.
Cause the map of blood is death, we lay our heads in the pool of red clotting in our neighbours’ veins.
Cause we fear for our lives, we lie still among cold bodies, cover our faces with our friends’ veins, believing death might just save us.
                   ©Kayo Logun


The ask what it is like to live
in a closet. I say it’s like
A long jail sentence,
life taken for no reason.
60 years of no penance
dreams terminated in its prime.

Like hot pepper washed down with a glass of coke
like a glass of hot water flavoured with paprika and chilli
like the colour red left too long in the african sun

Like loud rock and roll music at a country funeral
like an out of tune piano on a sappy sunday morning
like a stormy night thunder when your partner is out drinking

Like a wounded lion in the cave of a pack of hyenas
like a bull seeing red across the fence
like the cry of a man locked in a dark cage

Like burning cake in an empty house.
like the favourite meal of a murdered child to his mother
like a dirty toilet to the eyes of a full bladder
like the perfume of a cheating lover to a broken heart

like broken glass beneath a bended knee
like thorns hidden in a lover’s roses
like eyelash and sand in your eyes
like a six feet tall man with a red eye
like a house mate with a long knife

like a rough wall in a narrow path
like a bumpy road to a cemetery
like an empty house with a mad mate.

The ask what it is like to live
in a closet. I say it’s like
A long jail sentence,
life taken for no reason.
60 years of no penance
dreams terminated in its prime.
@kayo Logun