Thursday, August 25, 2016

Ayoola Goodyness Olanrewaju writes



throbbing thoughts weigh me  
and i break on the spring of balance…

pressured pulses poke-pinch 
the tranquility of my veins

and a giant pain pestles 
my broken bones in the mortar of maladies

i play a puzzle with life… 
the game of bereaved brains in nooses

it is my costly jest with death 
and death has no clowned clothing…


something falls on my face 
a spate of sorrow and a furious frown

i have seen this portrait before  
a young shot in life is beautiful…

only fantasies…not memories  
are fortunate figures of repetitions…

how i wish…i wish

there are just days and no nights 
of beds and foul scents of roses…

the night is here and the stings of thorns.


the night howls a darkened ether  
and cooing clouds in dusts of dusk

the waning moon is hedged  
veiled behind cloudy spells of darkness…

but not this crescent’s smile 
the lighted bow void of gloom

such a skinny smile darkness could dread!

lewis… this maybe night 
swollen with seeds of sadness

i shall light a smile…

The Moon and Sleep -- Simeon Solomon

1 comment:

  1. A Clear Midnight - Walt Whitman

    This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
    Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
    Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
    lovest best.
    Night, sleep, death and the stars.


Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?