Ink-Space Publications

I remember when your affection corrupted my conscience _Nothing made sense but you_ _Nothing mattered but you_ _Nothing made me twitch more than you_ I remember when your delicate hands displaced my strongest foundations _Made me roll my eyes backwards in ecstasy_ _Made me curl my toes in unimaginable pleasure_ _Made me swallow your fountain of sputum in sheer lust_ I remember when we damaged ourselves in our infatuation _For with you, every pain was amorously bearable_ _For with you, dying is just one of those phases_ _For with you, murder was a necessary evil should hurdles arise I remember how dramatic I was _I wanted to see the very end of eternity with you _I wanted to die knowing that I lived and loved _I wanted to idolize every inch of the earth your feet blessed Now I don't want to remember.... Rick Biggerman (Staff writer - agpg) Review and edited by agpg editorial board

Mr. Independent I don't know what to give you I don't know what to get you Mr. Independent You control time and space But you don't know how they function Mr. Independent You give love in essence But you don't know how to earn it   You thought me how to cave in To your needs and wanting I don't know what to get you That will lift my ego A giving that will weigh than feathers I see through you But I didn’t see who you were before you rose to Independence, independence, independ... Now, I see through you But I didn't see who you were before You formed ashes in the clouds My independent When I give you gold coins You swallow them And they return as gold leaves Mr. Independent When I clean your floors Your pour unto it debris When I distill your water You pour in earth I can't think what to get you     Mr. Independent you said Clothes are for those Who are naked and can be seen Tha...

A smote into our hearts When our sons disregard our hunts Look they spake of a revolution Hearkenin to its civilization Harsh! You hear of their nuts And turned gay to their chants Yet its complexity never satisfied your anxiety Your memories are filled with darkness, Which can never lighten up your curiosity For we taught we have moulded your hearts We cried for your impetuous acceptance Their erronous culture never suited you but you undoubtedly followed Did we not clothe you? Did we not feed you? Did we not teach you? Your bodies now refuse to be clothed Your mouth now neglects her breast Your mind keeps on to be entangled with fear You look but never see Your *eyes* never heard our cries Why do you besought now? When you Don't even know where your leg stands. Nichole Jane Asare 09/09/17

The clarion call sounded A sound of heartbreak Why keep mute Why should sons of the land Devour the land And live a merciless land at hand Its lips tremble for water Its eye seek for a bosom. A shattered grain of hope The bemoans of the land. Did i tell you i was dumb? Cried out the son of the land. Dumb not are you but like two silly lambs do you follow ignorance Be perturbed be vigilant The land is ours to make Jane Nichole Asare 

The fortuneteller couldn't tell his fortune The priest couldn't baptize him He was killed in the cradle while he slept Abortion was a better fate But what he had was misfortunes He has no chance to suckle He had no chance wiggle He had no chance to cry at midnight He had no chance to crawl He had no chance to eat the dirt while he played He had no chance to smile at his parents He was killed in a cradle while he slept Executed by a unilateral jury He experienced no love He experienced no attention He had never had a lullaby sang to him He had no hugs nor kisses He was killed at birth How would the world know how mighty or small he could have been. He never made anyone proud . Perhaps he was a mistake, says the mother . He was just a fantasy . Nothing beyond a mere conception His father could not pat his little head Nor was he able to hold his little finger He couldn't show him his love He could never had been the father . He never had to scold hi...

_Like a drowning man I hopelessly clutch at your straw_ _An anchor so feeble against billows still I dare ask for more_ _Why deny my ears the compensation of that sweet sensation_ _Of that which feels so true yet so false in your declaration_ _Deceptive your words were but I clung to them_ _Even as you sung hyperbolic fabrications as an anthem_ _I felt so blessed by your seemingly cursed lies_ _And I pray you continue to blind with scales my very eyes_ _Sugar-coated, candied,sweetened and nectarous_ _Sipping from your desecrated cup neglecting its poisonous_ _The harsh reality my heart endeavours to bear_ _Just one lie from you to me will prove you care_ Rick Biggerman (18/08/17)

Heaven has promised to be the ultimate place of joy based on the teachings of most religions. Who wouldn't want to be there?  People from all race are giving up a lot to experience heaven. It's clear people can do all manner of things for the ultimate joy. My dear Christians, forgive me for the confusion, i am not talking about ‘heavenly heaven’ but something I can characterize as earthly heaven. Orgasm can be fairly described as series of 8 to 16 regular high intensity muscle contraction occurring in an average of 16 seconds. No matter how long sex may last, the ultimate is this sixteen seconds episode.  Things people can do to achieve this pleasure is entirely another book on its own. People sometimes even try harder for this 'earthly heaven' than they strive to enter the 'heavenly heaven'. Having said this, I believe you now see what I see when I call orgasm heaven. One could never hate sex. Or let me say I can never hate sex, for at least I am here as ...