Jengenz MEDIA

THE SLAY QUEEN

I met her in a prayer house
Slender and curvedly built
Without a ring in her finger
Her red flag GUCCI bag looking trendy
She smiled at me enchantingly
And my heart froze.

She rose like a slay nun
Hunting for a man thinking with his pants
She began talking to me
The same way girls talk boys
Into charlatan bodyguards
Baiting priests to dangerous waters.

I unlocked the gaze
Her eyes cooking me for lunch
As they size me up and down
Like an owlish tailor
I ignored her bag
The same way she ignored the others
And we had a penetrating conversation.

I want to carry you on my back
Like a royal Prince
Galloping in the wilderness
A week later it got cold
We meet in the shadows
With no calls or text messages
Afraid to be seen of men.

We can’t be seen together in public
She reassured me
I am doing this for you
Do you understand
She was pitifully sexy
But I believed her, she was doing it for herself.

What she says when I was riding her
And what she says after
Only the devil knows
The names she calls me on the rides
I don’t know
Why they are different when we reset
Our unspoken here and now.

No matter the distance
She is the only one
The one that makes me come quick
When she says I will never change you
Not even for prince charming
Swearing from her honeycomb.

Then I saw
The slay queen talking from her inside
Holding firmly to her red flag GUCCI bag
My eyes rained thunderstorms
I demanded for an explanation
But only received more questions.

I am a voice, not an echo.

#(C)Sulayman Jeng

THE STREET BOY

I am a city boy raised on the street
Toughen by the street
Empowered by the street talks
On the streets I dream
To be whatever I want to be
Minting my dreams in a devil's workshop.

My aspirations starved by society
Reality avoids me with a high price
I was told education is better than the street
What good is education
When who you know gets it all?
Is education a key?

I am a city boy raised on the street
I survived on hunger
It drives and sharpens my thoughts
Hunger drives survive on streets education
On the street education is no key
For what good is a key without doors?

On the street I live on dreams
Dreams without hidden commitments
They say you need books to be educated
That is because reality is not free
You need to live borrowed ideas
Ideas not immune to street life
I am a city boy raised on the street.

The dreams on the street
Do not enslave you in a uniform
Brainwashing you to be slim fit
A belief that hook you in a soft skin
But to survive on the street
You need tough discipline
Each time you dare to move.

Surviving on the street
You must wear a thick skin
Tough enough to withstand all storms
I am a city boy raised on the street
Flying without wings
To escape society imprisonment.

What good is education
That never empowers?
What good is growing in a palace
That enslave?
I am a city boy raised on the street.

I am a voice, not an echo

#(C)Sulayman Jeng