Adeshina I.M. Lawal's Blog, page 3
January 2, 2021
If Knowledge was a Fruit
I won the challenge; here’s the poem Fam
December 25, 2020
Passion’s Death Grip
I want you to spread for me.
Open your heart and let me stimulate your body.
I want to ravage your psyke while damaging your hips.
It’s the end of December, but I know we are hot with desire.
The fire of our conversation can only be quenched with the water of our fornication.
Spread your legs for me.
Open your desire’s ocean and let me pump deep.
Lust is for a moment but true desire equates everlasting fire.
I take aquifer creaming as confirmation that my touch is right.
I mesmerize your mind whilst playing with your body.
Your grip on my spear’s tip squeezing me almost to submission.
Spread your wet lips while I grab your hips.
I combat with climax so I stroke repeatedly at your orgasm.
Sweet utterances fill the air as I take your coming desire to become my own.
In a moment we reach total satisfaction infamous in coming.
I am going for round two but a cigarette calls, I need a breather.
So sexy when you spread for me.
If you enjoyed this piece check out my book Millennial Philosophy available now on Amazon Folks
December 20, 2020
FireFly
Firefly
As the smoke billows before me I see no end.
Befriended by the cloud of confusion I see my nose but not the tip.
I need to get a grip on reality before I run into tragedy.
The smoke behaves like unwanted aromatherapy.
I need to clear my eyes so that I may see the prize that is salvation.
I vocalize the vision that is my intentions.
Shout FireFly at the fire.
Clear the smoke.
I know the power of my words as each letter spreads the power of a spell.
Every alphabet carries fairytale energy.
People who spread their negativity fan the smoke that should be blown away.
It only takes a whisper.
I utter Firefly over the confusion my adversary contends.
My intentions are absolute in visualizing my full potential.
I acknowledge my ancestral connection over the vision of my enemy.
May their ashes be spread by the winds of my whispers.
Firefly.
With my three eyes to the sky and my heals to the dirt I aim at my future.
My ancestor’s arrow acts as penetrating activator to my enemy’s center energy.
My ancestors knew what I needed algebraically.
Unbeknownst to me my ancestors passed power to through the winds of history.
I know now that my enemies put smoke over my third eye.
I must increase the knowledge that fans away smoke.
Whisper fire fly and watch the smoke clear.
October 31, 2020
Opportunities or Memories?
What counts more, memories or opportunities?
Truthfully I want them both but one must be sacrificed over the other.
Brothers appear to each other in memory, but dollars are thicker than blood.
Beloved opportunities can turn strangers into comrades.
Memories can turn brothers into nomads; their homes and hearts forsaken by the past.
Opportunities become curses when superimposed on memories.
Such accessories will make you see an enemy over a new opportunity.
If you don’t believe me look at racism and all its atrocities.
Interestingly enough racists are more of an opportunity than a memory.
He is not my friend but perhaps the enemy of my enemy.
In memory he remembers the lectures of his grandfather.
Though his father knows the story of the alabaster oil he toiled over his inferiority to the darker brother.
That inferiority pushed him to insanity on a nation wide murdering spree.
His grand children are proud boys, but not powerful men.
Their philosophies are archaic remnants of boys playing in bed sheets.
Opportunities are not limited to the ignorance of racism, but so also to matters of the spirit.
The Catholic Church appears as an advocate to memory cradling the heart of humanity.
Their faculty is impressed upon boys who become men, but the memories remain the same.
Their priests saw little boys as opportunities and left major scars on their prey.
Years later the scars left for dead were exposed in an opportunity to correct the Church.
Is there an opportunity for the Church? Is there an opportunity for America?
I find more hope in opportunity than the remnants of memory.
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September 28, 2020
June 12, 2020
New Project on Deck
So… I started selling paperback copies of my book Millennial Philosophy and then this Corona Virus Came thru and I took some time to expand my product line. From that due diligence I have produced beaded jewelry and sprouted a few plant options to try my green thumb.
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My reasoning for picking such items stems from my desire to know more about the Earth and what She provides for us. Because of this, I like to source my materials from Mother Earth to the best of my ability. There are many resources and opportunities out there but time and access are detrimental ingredients.
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Indeed one must have patience, due diligence, and networking to be an entrepreneur. As well one may want to be a jack of all trades. I am building a spiritual product line that showcases the exquisite creativity of a millennial man. Check out some of my prototypes; I’d love to hear some feedback Fam
May 14, 2020
Quarantining 💯
Quarantining
Its day whatever of our quarantine together.
The weather is sunny but no one’s outside outside of essential workers and rebel rousers.
I’m rocking grey sweatpants for trousers, I’m trying to arouse her, but she’s in the shower.
I’ll allow her to clean up as I get dirty going for a run… for cigars… She doesn’t even smoke weed but she likes fat cigars.
Yes I’ll go for a run.
I’ll do a few push ups on the run.
Imma get sweaty, and my testosterone heavy.
I’m gonna bust her cherry very softly.
Mannishly I walk in the room to consume her.
My aggression towards quarantine is inserted into her belly from the back.
I attack her agression with passionate incisions.
It is my mission to leave her in a position of pure satisfaction.
On her mind is my body; I see quarantine on the back of her head.
On her neck I taste the sweat of erotic frustration.
We switch positions.
I allow her to ride her anger away as I submit to sensual quarantine.
We release our stresses on each other but hold on to the satisfaction.
I need a quarantine sandwich and a Newport .
More Merch on the way Fam
Quarantining
Quarantining
Its day whatever of our quarantine together.
The weather is sunny but no one’s outside outside of essential workers and rebel rousers.
I’m rocking grey sweatpants for trousers, I’m trying to arouse her, but she’s in the shower.
I’ll allow her to clean up as I get dirty going for a run… for cigars… She doesn’t even smoke weed but she likes fat cigars.
Yes I’ll go for a run.
I’ll do a few push ups on the run.
Imma get sweaty, and my testosterone heavy.
I’m gonna bust her cherry very softly.
Mannishly I walk in the room to consume her.
My aggression towards quarantine is inserted into her belly from the back.
I attack her agression with passionate incisions.
It is my mission to leave her in a position of pure satisfaction.
On her mind is my body; I see quarantine on the back of her head.
On her neck I taste the sweat of erotic frustration.
We switch positions.
I allow her to ride her anger away as I submit to sensual quarantine.
We release our stresses on each other but hold on to the satisfaction.
I need a quarantine sandwich and a Newport
Quarantining
Quarantining
Its day whatever of our quarantine together.
The weather is sunny but no one’s outside outside of essential workers and rebel rousers.
I’m rocking grey sweatpants for trousers, I’m trying to arouse her, but she’s in the shower.
I’ll allow her to clean up as I get dirty going for a run… for cigars… She doesn’t even smoke weed but she likes fat cigars.
Yes I’ll go for a run.
I’ll do a few push ups on the run.
Imma get sweaty, and my testosterone heavy.
I’m gonna bust her cherry very softly.
Mannishly I walk in the room to consume her.
My aggression towards quarantine is inserted into her belly from the back.
I attack her agression with passionate incisions.
It is my mission to leave her in a position of pure satisfaction.
On her mind is my body; I see quarantine on the back of her head.
On her neck I taste the sweat of erotic frustration.
We switch positions.
I allow her to ride her anger away as I submit to sensual quarantine.
We release our stresses on each other but hold on to the satisfaction.
I need a quarantine sandwich and a Newport
Quarantining
Quarantining
Its day whatever of our quarantine together.
The weather is sunny but no one’s outside outside of essential workers and rebel rousers.
I’m rocking grey sweatpants for trousers, I’m trying to arouse her, but she’s in the shower.
I’ll allow her to clean up as I get dirty going for a run… for cigars… She doesn’t even smoke weed but she likes fat cigars.
Yes I’ll go for a run.
I’ll do a few push ups on the run.
Imma get sweaty, and my testosterone heavy.
I’m gonna bust her cherry very softly.
Mannishly I walk in the room to consume her.
My aggression towards quarantine is inserted into her belly from the back.
I attack her agression with passionate incisions.
It is my mission to leave her in a position of pure satisfaction.
On her mind is my body; I see quarantine on the back of her head.
On her neck I taste the sweat of erotic frustration.
We switch positions.
I allow her to ride her anger away as I submit to sensual quarantine.
We release our stresses on each other but hold on to the satisfaction.
I need a quarantine sandwich and a Newport
