ISABELLA

 I hate my eyes, for they went astray and focused all my attention unto you
my mind certified you to be too sexy, now i can't stop thinking of you
my heart tried to out do my eyes and my brain, beating to the rhythm of our sexy voice
but i hate my mouth the most,it didn't tell you how much i love you

i just hate my legs, they can't walk to bridge the distance between me and you
for my hands let me not mention no matter the stretching i can't hold you again
Google is now my new enemy,coz your where abouts is the only question it can't answer
and i swear i hate my pen, it just wrote this poem about you

i hate my memory,reminds me of an angel you are
my dreams are the worst,they got me thinking you are a sister to beauty
 i hate the words used i in this poem,reminds me of love i never had
i hate the fact that am reciting this,holding onto this Mic instead of your beautiful hands

i hate my tears they can't wash away the love i have for you
i hate all the ladies,none of them can replace it either
i hate love itself and wish it was not created

i hate everything just because i love you
ISABELLA

A LETTER TO MY TEACHER

Am sorry Mr lecturer,for always being notorious in class
am sorry for being that rude and always a pain in the rare end
in every market there are..., that's a saying am here to pass
my knucklehead characteristics are a blessing don't confuse them with a curse

am sure you like my class rep,he is that you call an example
am sure you hate me with equal measure, for your experiment am no sample
you forget that life is a circle and am the dot that completes the circle
and if i were a saint,would we need a priest in a temple?

am always late for lectures,coz hurry hurry has no blessings
always noisy in class, coz silent waters run deep
i don't do assignment on time, there is no hurry in Africa
always giving assignment after deadlines, better late than never

you hate me for breaking the rules,remember they are made to be broken
you should even congratulate me, i only bend them
now you think am crazy, Jesus came for the lost
and if you wish i were dead, am real am not a ghost

yours 
STEPHEN MASTEL

WEEBALE

Lord forgive me, i did cheat on my teacher
he wanted to know what i wanted to become, but i gave the wrong answers
i said i wanted to become a doctor, coz my sister was sick at the time
i remember mentioning a lawyer, coz my dad said it was cool
i also dreamt of being a president ,coz i wanted to be above the law
but all this time my pen and paper haunted me, i was born a poet

am twenty years young and going, thanks lord for my talent
although i never became a doctor, i treat their hearts with poetic words
i will never become a lawyer, but their hearts i give poetic justice
presidency is not even one of my blood cells, but those inspired by my poetry always say long live Stephen mastel

Thanks God for during your six days of creation you never forgot to create the words i use
some of my fans pour praises unto me but let them know its by your grace
i have been in school all my life but before i was born you gave me a PHD in poetry
thanking  you is not good but because i have no otherwise

THANK YOU