Be the crime that should be abets
And I will be the accomplice
Be the case that should be tried
And I will be the jury to defend it
Our love shall be the judge of the trial
Love on this jurisdiction we vowed
We defend it today against hatred
Let me know you like legal maxims
Aphorism not found by many
The words that shows prowess
Like the black law dictionary
To be able to converse well
Before my lord at the Honorable
Gathering of the luminaries
Let's build foundries and havens
To melt down all the trouble and hide
In like metal form stood on the road
Our love that had stand out many trials
Liquid metals remolded into golds
Standing out till time indefinite
Let me be your case darling
© John Chinaka Onyeche
Night's exploding silence
Abets the heaving weight,
There's a knife overhead,
A rope under the sink.
Unexplainable, pristine,
Insects are on the floor
As an airplane passes by
And silence consumes it too.
Thought is faster than words
Love is not seen in silence
A mice is gnawing the wall to create a hole,
And silence consumes it too.
The artificial wind
Gives breath to the cobwebs,
Silence must find stillness,
In this burning house..
The word has several dimensions basically
That makes it vulnerable to many versions
The definition and perspective does change
That suits one’s convenience occasionally.
For some it is a technique of purification
Of the body and mind combination; stained
To purge the impurities that are gathered
And to attain and enjoy, something sublime.
Few others take it as an effective application
To trim and tone up their physical appearance
That helps them certainly in hiding their age
That abets to walk like a proud maiden around.
The affluent with their numerous worries
That bother them despite loads of medicine
On the advice of doctors and soothsayers
Pompously take to it as a great step-down.
The poor and the half-starved look at it
As a forever staring reality to be faced
And fervently hope for the blessed day
That will break the constancy of fasting.
Lone Wolf…
He is the irony unto his lonesome self
Thrust upon this world
A cub youngling
He absconds from family
In search of something else
The Lone Wolf…
A spirit found, a spirit lost
Travails path of storm and wind
Looking and seeking
The nomad hunter without friends
Loneliness the only cost
A Lone Wolf…
Forever bearing the intensity of heart
Burning into mind’s eye
Sardonic is his never knowing
Consequence of playing part
Lone Wolf…
Finding refuge within darkness…
From fast approaching storms
But, sanctuary from his own madness…
Found only in brashness and honor
Of the soul that roams
The Lone Wolf…
Like the undiscovered serpent of the sea…
The soaring eagle
Longs only to be free
But instinct his jailer
And hunger his need
A Lone wolf…
A vanishing vagrant into long drawn shadows…
Woodlands of a twilight sun
Pursuing fresh quarry scents
Unsullied mate she wolves natal young’s
Lone Wolf…
His lonesome irony abets in its return
As nights timber penumbras tumble forth…
A semblance of spectral sirs
Whelps of innocence from the night to the lunar lights…
Do not go unheard
To the darker side is the human inclination adherant
To the evil impulse it is strongly adamant
But what vile part of anatomy urges it to be so delinquent
What abets his innerself
to disembark from the lane of good
The fulcrum of his conscience
weighs heavier on the evil side
There are dark shadows on
the inner realm of the soul
Yet there are stronger lights
And a mightier force to balance the rusted fulcrum
What divine part of anatomy
urges it to the lane of right
It is 'Him' who resides in every being
In the good and the evil
In the saint and the devil