Best Brocades Poems

Affluent and formal
pink lilies deck the tables;
we await the 
sweet, affected 
laughter of our  friends.
Bedecked in bouffant hair-do's
perfumes, ermines, jewels
brocades and buckled shoes,
we dazzle, yes! We dazzle
with our mirrors, and our decals,
our precious art, and plaster,
exotic candelabras, 

but  I can't wait to make...

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Life's Tapestry

Life begins: a single thread
Inlayed throughout as one
Faceted; a tapestry
Entwining hopes and dread
'Sembling  extracts not quite done. 

Torn brocades of woven silk
Aloft on dusty walls
Pull at strings of mother's milk
Ellipsing vacant halls. 
Shadows press the looking glass
Towards the light then fall. 
Running colours...

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The weightless float of morn throttles
 like a softly-bathed woman: white, tangy and bubbling
 with a sprig of mint and dew;
 petals’ chests opening a gate of chastity, undressed.


A path of upturned twigs rips free and slides along veils 
of bridal mist; misty in a...

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frantic talent
among willow  shadows
capsized boats
in trawls meshes
the spiders spinning brocades

lights at the window
someone waiting for us
an ardent desire floating in the air
set free
the moon soal wandering

a cock
sifting the stars with kikeriki
in the lake full of waterlilies
waves of silvery clouds putting out the night lantern
slowly...

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IRONY

My joy that I wasn't born a Nigerian
Is that my parents are Yorubas
I would have been limited to Naira

Mo dúpé pé mo lókó nílé (All thanks, I have a hoe)
Mo láyò pé omo alápatà sá lèmi(I rejoice, I am the butcher's offspring)

Nigerians should say alhamduliLhai
That...

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These villains in the land of Prejudice
Sitted in terraces, funding dareDevils...
Painting innocent  faces with faeces from Boko bum...Issh!!!
 
Insult, added with salt upon injury
And we lavish in abject penury
Still, we are GIANTS of Africa, in ironic luxury
 
Heroes are compelled to romance prison floors...

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Sometimes, when 
your sparkling spirit 
waltzes with me 
to the perfumed 
periwinkle grooves 
of saffron breezes, 
I'm lost in a forever gaze, 
within those 
flickering ferns
of a nascent nightmare, 
where I ain't any 
velvet-purple orchid, 
which gets saved in 
every mellifluous 
moment by the 
sacrosanct...

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The king was incandescent,
In the brocades and creped damasks,
His knights and his attendants 
All surrounded his gilt throne.

A multitude was gathered,
For the seasonal oration,
Warming sons and fathers
By his sure and sovereign tone.

The king was still at speaking,
When the son entered the palace,
With his retinue and...

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Hall Of Blank Portraits 

To my father, 
I paint you as the sea, 
Ebbing and flowing 
In my memory.
Drifting in the doldrums 
Immortal and serene, 
Sleeping forever 
In blues and green,
I sit on the shore 
And dip my feet,
Fearing your portrait 
Will remain incomplete. 

To...

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THE   ISLANDS   OF   IMAGINATION

Our  trek was in the mind, no ifs or buts : 
Our trek was amongst the yards of trading estate factories.
First factory had piles of metal off-cuts    -
Pick ‘em up with ease...

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[Continued from Part Three]



Thereupon the elder gave them all a single cart.
It was tall and broad with gems adorning every part
and had bells on all four corners plus a balustrade
surrounding, with a hanging awning offering shade. 

Valuable jewels, that were fastened with a cord
made of...

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summer haiku - 6-25-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
summer finery

summer weaves a cloak
 brocades of pinks and daisies ~
  tadpoles learn to swim...

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Life never handed her brocades
no silver lining accolades
Diligence, her saving grace
dreams and faith interlaced

She would know the deepest loss
become the one to fight the cause
Sheltering the brokenhearted
the lost, lonely, and discarded

Her loving choice to enfold
seeing the goodness in every soul
Each fiber of her very essence
weaved...

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The pine tree stands straight in the clouds,
For it is ashamed of any curves and bends.
Various wild vines do not concede defeat,
They cling and climb to the top to compete.
Autumn flowers are in bright purple and red,
Charming and beautiful like brocades spread.
Neither humble nor pushy...

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Blue Stone

Sagittarius piano fingers waltzing splendidly upon my laptop.
I can hear your nervous ticking heart clapping and tapping—
Collapsing there— as the meat philosophers send their brocades— 
You never told me your name— whether real or frequently imagined—
As you came through my back door with nyloned...

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