Prince Charming

I lay myself bare,


on the floor

Dust covers my body

Rusty nails embed themselves in my skin,

They pierce and pin me to the ground.

I lie in a fetal position, awaiting my knight.

He arrives on horseback, places himself next to me

He whispers in my ear

He plants the seeds in me that enable me grow

I blossom

and bloom

into the flower I was supposed to be.

We ride off in the moonlight

to sit at the right side of the throne

Where we are the King and Queen of our kingdom,

ready to begin our hunt, to uncover, the rest of our destiny.

Georgette Monnou



Can’t you see it, perching on my shoulder, whispering in my ear

Can’t you hear it, the abusive words that slip out of my mouth

Can’t you feel it, your insides burning, your mind beginning to wonder

Don’t you wonder why it tells me to say these awful things

You provoked it, caused it to react the way it did, you deserved it.

Don’t you think so? Of course not, you’re on the receiving end.

You should have known better, you shouldn’t have prompted it,

Now you have to pay.

Is there a remedy?

There is, so simple… you have to massage it.

Massage it day and night, coax it, plead with it, love it

If you ever deny it, you will feel its wrath like the thunder pouring out from the heavens.

What did you do wrong? 

You shouldn’t be so simple, so silly not to have known.

You simply upset it, by being so perfect, all your positive advances, one cannot deny it

You anger it with your academic prowess, your creative genius, your erotic personality.

Don’t you get it?

You deeply upset the green eyed monster, that’s perched on my shoulder.

Georgette Monnou  ©




The great country I come from, where men say “Baby how are you?”

Where the bus conductors screech “Obalande, Obalande, Yaba, Yaba,” at the top of their voices.

The country with great wealth and expertise that is manhandled and refused to progress at the hands of the fortress.

The fortress that holds what people describe as the government, yet nobody hears a word or feels their worth.

We send our children abroad to be educated by who we describe as the “Oyinbo’s.”

Why? Because they provide the land of opportunity and education that our great country does not unfold.

We read stories from a man called Dickens and a woman called Austen, Great British Classics they are titled, to educate us about money, sex and love.

Back home we have writers like Achebe, that spell out the name of the game.

The game that so desperately needs to change in order to ensure progress in our homeland.

He writes about the Igbo tribe and how developed we were before the white man came.

He speaks about the tragedy of our great land at the hands of the fortress.



The great country where there are traffic jams and the drivers yell, “Orioda!”

The land where we never abide by the Zebra Crossing for fear another gets an advantage.

Nigeria, the land where corruption spews out of very tap and palm kernel.

The land where its people never choose to revolt for fear that they will be taken away.

Away into the jail cells we call “Panti,” where the police officers will handle them shortly.

Their fingernails might be ripped out of their hands by the hands of the “Teata.”

I tease, it’s not that extreme, but whoever goes in sha, never comes out.

Again, I tease, it’s for dramatic effect, but I hope you get the point, excuse me I digress.

Going back to the point, a rich man in his car slips the LASTMA a few hundred so he can be direct.

Directly on his way he goes, meanwhile he doesn’t face that he’s screwed up on the road.



The land I come from, where we wait for the UK, to try all our criminals.

Those that should face justice, slip away like a whore in the daylight.

They run away to a country with no jurisdiction, but are later caught and found by the British police.

Recently, they stated they shall reform our jails so that they can return the shmucks.

They say they don’t want to infringe their human rights, “Oh how kind, I don’t give a fuck!”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Because why should we wait for other countries to make a change in ours.

A change in the country I come from, where the people shy away from the kingdom.

The kingdom of a right and true Nigeria.

Instead all their education goes to waste as they become one of the damned ones.

The ones that slowly become a part of the fortress and here we go, we never progress.

I think it’s about time that we evaluate our stance in this world,

And not only think about saving the human race, but remember our country with all the lost souls.

Lookie here, I’m done with my words, but I hope it gave you another option, it’s not a hearse.

Georgette Monnou ©


Picture belongs to Georgette Monnou ©



He looks at her and smiles, he can’t believe his luck.

He found a girl to love, which surpassed his expectations.

He still couldn’t believe, that she had chosen him to love.

Out of all the guys that surrounded her, cause believe me they were numbered,

She saw through his nonchalant attitude, and realised he was a cool dude.

She fought to tear down the walls he built, to guard all of his emotions.

She stuck with him through thick and thin, and that my dear, deserves an award.


She looks at him so lovingly, her heart flutters with him by her side.

She found a man that loves her so, and also loves our Creator.

She can’t imagine living a life without him, cause after all he was a diamond in the ruff,

She fought and fought, she screamed and shouted, to ultimately get what she wanted.

And me oh my it was worth it all, cause here they are engaged.

The wedding day fast approaches, and she is as busy as can be,

But she’s glad she’s found her man, who stands by her without need.


Nothing but a number

They all say age is nothing but a number

But if you still got parents that care, it becomes a problem

He’s too old, you’re too young, he’s not right for you, girl you gotsa move on

So even though you like him, you will have to hold on

Even if you tried to wait another couple of years

Whose to say that the age gap is going to fade away

It’s all about the psychology they say, you’re not in the same place

If you’re a girl who has always been surrounded and attracted older guys, what do you do?

You are a young girl, with an old soul,

Whose to blame, is it yourself, Oh!

Oh! You cry out, but no sound is heard

Because no matter how hard you try, nobody listens

We don’t want you to make the same mistakes we did 

But if you hadn’t done so, who would be the one telling me this

We all have to live our own lives, and make our mistakes

If something ain’t right, I’ll trust my instincts

It’s hard when you’ve found someone you like, and then your faced with the question,

Is age really nothing but a number?


The Youth

Look at the youth of our generation, crimping and crumping to beats of the beat boxers heard over the radio station

‘Stay tuned for more’ it says while he goes off for a second.

So the youth in the meantime try to ensure that someday their song will be heard by millions

We seem to be so obsessed with this new phrase Y.O.L.O

People’s rebuttals have been but you only die once yo!

We concern ourselves with the ‘get rich or die trying’ analogy

That’s why you have greedy men, and hungry girls diggin’ for gold

It’s the pot of gold that is only found at the bottom of a rainbow

So off they go in search of success, using any means possible which leads to regrets

They realise too late in the day the kind of path to have followed

Meanwhile they tease those that choose to concern themselves with books not looks

Don’t get me wrong here, if music is your passion, then by all means go for it

All I’m highlighting, are those without talent who continuously try to push it

Music isn’t your only platform for success, what about Art, Drama, Astrology or Contests

Why not try your hand at that, instead of trying to conform

Instead we hear “them bitches, them n****s in the house, we gonna f**k this place like p***y’s never asked!”

Is that the kind of music we should be used to?

Why accept such trash when we know they haven’t got a clue

A clue to the way music is and should be produced

Our parents frown and state ‘‘this music of nowadays,’’

With a look that demonstrates their disdain

I guess what I am trying to say is live your life to the fullest

But do it so that you are following your real passion; not somebody else’s vision


The Search

How does one explain that they have so much love to give, but no one to give it to?

She has different guys, knocking at her door, giving her one lie after the other

As a self – concious girl, who wants to guard her heart, she decides to put aside her first thoughts

Her mama taught her never to judge a book by its cover…

But she also told her to trust her gut…

Trust her gut she tried, but with his beautiful smile, she decided to deny her heart

Her heart of the true love she knew she deserved.

Instead she went down a road that was not the truth to behold.

She soon uncovered months later that it was all a lie.

He claimed he wanted out,

She asked why?

Why didnt he tell her earlier, was he expecting her to pull her cookie out of  her cookie jar?

People tell you to embrace life as it comes, allow people to come into your life

Little do they know that you still have a reputation to uphold.

We live in a world that favours men,

Ever heard of the phrase double standard?

Women are perceived as sluts if  they have had to kiss more frogs than princes.

Men on the other hand are given the upper hand, are hailed and seen as tuff guys.

So the ugly cycle continues, until it gets to a point that she totally breaks down,

She sheds a few tears, is depressed for a few days and then she picks herself up.

Up she goes, to live another day, face another male.

Another comes, this time wth the same story, just packaged differently, will she ever find her man?