Long Pillared Poems
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Second sight in some infants, short tenure belies
Unbiased newness unpicks societal manufacture
To passers by, lurking spiritual assets recognisable
Pervading expression classifies their clairvoyance
Such was toddling dandelion darling, Aubergine
Unphased, observant, chillingly serene in nature
Cherubic smirk absorbed traits, antics compiled
Tea coloured irises brewed extracted evidence
Aloof by default, addictive was desire to amuse her
Surfacing sufficient wit to captivate earned pleasure
Complex humour her veracity seeking palate required
Ego's growth ensued causing her copper eyes to flare
Taut uncooked dough forehead bound words in focus
Incidental text in her proximity statue faced savoured
Without parental prompting, pillared wisdom widened
Constant calculation of her purposed component
Memorable eerie moment in Aubergine activity
I surreptitiously witnessed striking behaviour
"Don't tell Mummy, I was once burnt alive in fire."
She confided in her soft toy 'school' semi circle
Watching her calm revelation, mildly humilated
by my unfamiliarity with her zany brain's structure
Her sophistication held me dauntingly hypnotised
Haunted by her thirty month old pre life mystery
Written 18th June
( I just noticed today's date sounds a bit like 'Aubergine')
a word name I thought suited a little tot called Lexi
at a Day Care Centre I worked at a few years ago.
After putting this poem up, I realise
Aubergine sounds like Joan of Arc (Jeanne D'arc)
swapped syllables.
Didn't plan the poem to mention fire.
I had only the concept of outstanding baby girl when sat to write.
A four pillared greeting, a long winding road
A quiet, eerie presence; cold, soft whispers...friend or foe?
A cry from the mountains rides on the breeze
It's heard in the valley, it's heard in the trees
Fallen for God and fallen for Spain!
It's not spoken with pride, but with pain and disdain
It comes like a croak, ragged and dry
Like it's been all boxed up and has not seen the light
The cries sing aloud from the walls of the nave
Most of them dug up; their final resting place: a mass grave
A shrine to the fallen for country and kin
A monument to remember; never forget this buried sin
A four pillared farewell, a quiet drive home
A reassuring presence, a new friend, a renewed hope
As Samuel saw vaulted Xanadu of Kublai Khan fame
In smoke-filled corridors of sweat-drenched Opium-eaters
Did I spy a vision so surreal as to render all my sentient senses to nought
And to replace them with a miasma of arcane thoughts.
I glimpsed of things most unimagined through vaporous clouds
Of effulgent smoke from wampums more confusing
than the peace of amity that it connoted.
Through numbing mind yet not fully suppressed
I beheld many-pillared corridors in a dazzling sequence
Of multi-hued columns - Doric, Ionian and Corinthian.
And through this tortuous labyrinthine maze ran
A languorous limpid stream off a meander
From an ox-bow lake, with a murmurous mutter
As it hop scotched the rifts on the floor.
With Cyclopean vision, floating wraith-like, in the distance
I beheld a dazzling high-domed hall,
The dazzle from a myriad gorgeous maidens
Each draped in dresses so diaphanous as to defy its definition!
And a prima donna sang in sonorous counterpoint to the susurration of the stream.
From up on high like a falcon flighted,
In anachronistic contrast I verily beheld
A jeaned and jacketed - Angelina Jolie!
It was then that I confirmed to myself -
My mind had truly busted!
On one side
One person omitted from a dozen
On the other side
Five added to six persons
Making two over doubles scores
Scrabbling with the round leather with passion
All in the quest for action
But occasionally with a distinct fashion
Separated by a mad man
Running from pole to pillar
With a whistle in his mouth
Plagued alongside two other manias
Raising a piece of cloth
Coiled in a stick at each others half
Watched by frenzy fanatics at an open ground
The twenty-two persons are
Baptised with the name players
Desperate with zeal to hit the leather
Into a rather big fish net pillared by a pole
Behind the glove man
They seek to keep the round leather
Tossing it around with a rare
Aesthetic beauty that is only common
Across the Niger Area in the black continent
With a rhythmic samba beat in the Pele continent.
Nothing brings joy and unity like the round leather.
Alayande Stephen. Tolulope
21st ,October, 2005
1.11pm
Form:
You are the totem, simply told,
In man and mountain lore
Pillared tall, your spirit thrives
Where myths and legends soar –
Among the ravens where they fly,
With creed held fast in hand,
You speak the language of the earth;
You sound the depths of man
And grasp the wisdom of the pearl
Fashioned in the sea,
Calling for the conch to voice
The truth you know to be –
A monolith of latitudes,
With grace not undermined,
Lamenting as the deaf and dumb
Are handled by the blind,
You wear the scars of battles waged
Across the centuries
And grant the bearer of your wounds
The marks of history –
Where now you stand, you now arise
To face the rising tide;
You see the quiet burning sun;
You hear the ocean’s cry
Raise now your silent, muted voice!
Lift up your hooded eyes!
Let loose the chains that time has forged
Where truth and beauty lie –
Exalt us with your noble height!
Bestir the waking land!
Totem, in your boundless grace,
Call forth a better man –
Lucifer: "finish that piece a quaint and approximate supplicant is not meant for the heather dowdy pulled up invectives that do not roundly gather."
Uraeal: "I should often belay that quaintness the fury of galactic storms like Katrina was winning."
Aurora: "Peakish and defied I see now with both pellucid guise and under the remittance we have stolen now appraise."
Helel: "The roofed and pillared steeples, these greet en-masse the stippled and fearful."
Kate: "Darker than that and I now protest, the cure has been found it stands abreast, to the northern wind now gather the horses the divine have horticulture."
RK: "Tepid I know, such an illustrious thing, that faces such perfect darkness and creates a new slung over crescent."
arophc varuag: "Comely and prince that true love never went to the abyss."
PW1: *Notices that he is to return, and erupts from the sorrows to act a folly before returning*
DR Dragon: "Aimless parades should colors simply melt like a witch's wet brace?"
Zeus: "Contemplating the never have I then a realm to squash the pumpernickel source should it ring the wrong bell."
The forbidden one: *Disembarks from his journey, considers rejoining these the rest.*
---End of act 1---