When at dawn I find three stones at my
Doorstep, I smile at dawn
Prayers, in haste, come to my lips
My eyes rove wantonly and behold a
Poet caressing a naked virgin.
When at dawn I find three stones at my
Doorstep, messages rustle to my ears
I prepare a costly repast for a palmist
My smile is faint.
......
The great iroko tree
Has fallen down;
Our king, the lion
Of this land has passed on
To the land of our silent fathers-
A journey of no return.
The land is in tears;
The soil is bleeding –
Things fall apart in every
......
In the face of an early morning drizzle,
On a fireside earth-throne,
I sit and summon thoughts.
The firewood, red with the suppressed anger of
Smouldering fire,
Crackles constantly
Amid the paying of wages of serenity.
Thoughts and fascination cringe
My breath now pulsated by the throbs of wanton
......
Broken mirrors are sad, shattered and flung
So are the memories of the man who bathed in
Snake waters: ripples never stay the same after
Watery turbulence,
And if crocodiles shuffle in scaly leaps, banks alter.
Such is memories of another life, torn and
Time-dispersed, elusive, and dredged within the
Events of the seas and witnessing clouds above.
......
Grisly.
Quiet.
Dumb.
Good image, symmetrical with Tuscan tradition.
A point, magnetism; revered, upon its dull-glint;
threshed of every fibre – only tarsals
exist in singles like abandoned works of espoused painters.
Grave:
......
In the face of an early morning drizzle,
On a fireside earth-throne,
I sit and summon thoughts.
The firewood, red with the suppressed anger of
Smouldering fire,
Crackles constantly
Amid the paying of wages of serenity.
Thoughts and fascination cringe
My breath now pulsated by the throbs of wanton
......
A faint smile paints the face of a pilgrim.
Sadness remains glued to the palate
As long as the hurried meal tastes awful.
When the moon becomes stingy with its light
The rich and the poor grope.
Darkness confirms the weakness of light, when it fails
To shine through the veil of the night, bloated and
Coarse, formless and cruel.
We light our lamps to the effulgence of
Our hearts, dampened by the harsh courage of
......
When at dawn I find three stones at my
Doorstep, I smile at dawn
Prayers, in haste, come to my lips
My eyes rove wantonly and behold a
Poet caressing a naked virgin.
When at dawn I find three stones at my
Doorstep, messages rustle to my ears
I prepare a costly repast for a palmist
My smile is faint.
......
Broken mirrors are sad, shattered and flung
So are the memories of the man who bathed in
Snake waters: ripples never stay the same after
Watery turbulence,
And if crocodiles shuffle in scaly leaps, banks alter.
Such is memories of another life, torn and
Time-dispersed, elusive, and dredged within the
Events of the seas and witnessing clouds above.
......
Grisly.
Quiet.
Dumb.
Good image, symmetrical with Tuscan tradition.
A point, magnetism; revered, upon its dull-glint;
threshed of every fibre – only tarsals
exist in singles like abandoned works of espoused painters.
Grave:
......