The Orbit
In the morning
when the sun flash its first coysmile
behind the parting curtains of a sleepy sky
it rouse the world from harried slumber
to the roar of monstrous machines
and crawling cabs on congested streets
honking,hooting,swearing and sweating
At midmorning
its a floating disc;a kaleidoscope
of pressurized breath and hooded brows
of grumbling bowel and galling juice
of idle hand and furious fists
of infernal fingers perpetually planted in public till
of sodden spirirtin fearful breasts
and mumified citizens in merciless cities
In the evening
a dying yolk knocking feebly on western door
shorn of blistering breath and scorching strength
trudging relentlessly with burdensome dreams
quietly,golden head rests in western grave
At night
a monarch ressurects with
a retinue of chandelier stars and energetic drummers
on the throne of a sombre sky
seething with ghosts of decayed dreams
waiting impatiently for the birth of
a promising dawn
dejon 5.45am
may,2904
Copyright © Oyedokun Adejonwo | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment