You have come mightily upon my brows,
Yet blessing my folly when I had cried nude and
Watery,
My vagitus loud with the frenetic timbre of wartime
You have swept through the corridors of
Silhouetted stalks, fanning lean, vertical leaves that shield
The nakedness of the African seasons —perched
And soggy,
And at waking time, when November bares its
Thunder-whetted fangs with the ruthlessness of a Puff adder.
It is cold and skin-whitening.
Streaks of flaking, dancing rods descend on femurs un-pumiced.
Dehydrated throats accompany ancestral hymns on the
Humming bees’ melody, stifling the courage of the Tchagra.
Drab, and cracking the serrated softness of heels and
Stale, moss-ridden kernels, the waves of the storm,
Blinding, besiege our common sempervirence,
Long lost among the blurred firmamental gaze
And straw-gold material upon this prostituted earth.
Snuggly warmth comes by the power of woodsmoke
When dawn, shy from the raillery of the rising sun,
Hastens to the coronation of sacred rain beyond
Our limits —a pomp of relegated and flustered seasons.
The clouds have opened their eyes wide
And all blackness wiped off the face of
The earth.
Night’s curtain has been drawn.
The rising birds in one single squadron
Halloo the world,
Winging and swinging through the
Broad lanes of the ceruleans.
I wake and tremble with the coldness of
Netted fishes;
My spirit stumbles upon fresh thresholds
Whiter with the dews of a prostrating day.
I return to my first day when I had cried.
I speak of my vagitus.
Morning celebrates itself,
Its return from a wayward night trip,
And the glory of dawn.
Crows from drunken cockerels
Ring out loud and clear on the spine of
The village,
Saluting the birth of a new-born day.
DISPLAYING IMPATIENCE
Petrichor is blue on sad days
sometimes comes back as fire
but on happy wamble it's pink
as a flower
Aglet! Aglet! i tore your
armour now i walk with loose
shoelace!
Only on myleftFoot do i fear
life
AND vagitus speaks clearly
suing me within my heart
cut a star at glabella space
watching the cosmos drink
the memories of all my love
and pain
And she wore natiform on her
chest with a big heart bursting
seeds of flowers one that fell
between her legs and grew a
wild rose that ate me whole
i should be comforted
i should be comforted
i should be arrested
I'm my favorite patient
writing prescription
for mental constipation
burnt like cornicione
but i'm relaxing
and took ferrule stabbing
the tip of my eyes
which hides my burnt brain
:: 03-30-2016 ::
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