Thursday, August 27, 2015

Ayoola Goodyness Olanrewaju writes

flickers of fire

adio, the night is pregnant with cold

sniffing my skinny skin in chilling scorches

i take lofty logs of lines

desiring the taste of fire

from the swaying branches of art

i wet their passions in the unction

from the big bottle of mother muse

and then fire...

i solace in the warmth of flamy flees...

from the fire of poetry!


my thoughts cruise in the dance

the dance of fire to the tunes of frisson breeze

for mother has gone far and away for food

how i miss the felt of her bosom...                       

the fire flickers burst in excitement

for the little glow that spears the darkness

like star shooting stars

they trail in the songs of fire vast...vanishing...

i clutch some and now sweet soothing singes

rest in fades between the lines of my palms...


agog, i chase and chase little lights

so curious to create their own fire...

yet, in this steaming daft of night

i wrestle these thoughts

on the rings of my mind

like flickers of fire...

we are born...

we glow...

we fade and die...

1 comment:

  1. Ayoola wrestles with the process of creation, how an artist seeks to make the fire and cultivate the sparks until it can blaze.


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