Saturday, January 30, 2016

Akinbode Israel writes

Date a poet.
My walk with breeze,
A hot silence with mute words,
Breeze broke my arm,
Couldn't write well.
I rode on a cart with water,
His promises began to fade,
Turning to a mighty sea,
I drowned, my dreams sank.
I ran with the running rain
With dry lands on my back,
A wicked flood he gave.
I met a dancing quill
With a fatherly feather,
Good lines he wrote on my heart,
Changed my phrase to clause.
I said 'Yes' to his humble words,
He fought emptiness with sounds,
Silence died of stroke,
Buried in a coughing coffin.
Date a poet,
His words...
Soothes in sorrows,
Date a poet.

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