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Anthony Oni Poem
As each day makes a desert way
A star falls to vanish in the sky of dark
Left are the others in the groaned world of our days
As each day beams, we lack in the part.
5. When will these missing flowers be found ?!.
To those we show our tattered feet.
The Owners of Land, where our germinations were bound
Now, being the ancestors of our fruits fleet
As the breeze blows, so they die.
10. Waving to the spirit world of spell,
To leave the Lizards on lie.
Who knows who would hear tonight bell?
For the dead leaving, and the leaving dead; where is their home ?
In God’s heaven or …Devil’s hell?
Copyright © Anthony Oni | Year Posted 2005
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Anthony Oni Poem
The chair of our time, not our forefathers’
Up are you, with that shifted bottom in the air
Those legs of flippant seem to be permanent;
With the open gate of laughter.
5. Rolled down eyeballs; Down level his kinsmen
“Ay” I call, “do you think forever you’ll be there?”
Scattering spittle fall to level us beneath land.
“That’s your reply”, pouncing on the lifters.
Thousand hearts halloa, “Get yourself down now !!!”
10 Thunder light shown. The downgrade of a star,
Beating the lizard to pulp, “Hurrah !”
Breeze, blown out of million of mouths. I look
“Enough !. Who will seat next?”
Up is another raven raw; having being warned
15. Against a life term. Suddenly, the exulted
Shining white balls turned red. Without an ear to options.
“Change, or, you shall be down” I warn.
“This chair is forever mine: Take it”, The mouth Opens.
Eyes of lifting hands look helpless.
20. Will this seated bottom also turn stubborn?
Old heads fall down. Brain faculties work faster.
“Are your natures, these, blokes?
Why would nature always melt your bottoms
To this chair for overtime, for life term?
25. This must be a spell. Are the
Men the course? OR … oh …….,
The chair.. should be the cursed.
“Now! down cast this crow crown of cruel”
I command. Sure… The air quash against our feet.
30. Another crown, again, is needed.
But; at the end, what will happen to the crown?
You! a cursed chair, the lucrative
That turns our men corrupt,
What will be the redeeming remedy?
Copyright © Anthony Oni | Year Posted 2005
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Details |
Anthony Oni Poem
Sometime this year
Atmosphere was as cold as a dog’s nose
Forming a white pool
In the thin heart of this life.
5. My legs moved to our porch
Having refused the terrain of
His close foes’ fathom of affection.
Then my vision balls punched up.
A buttery in the life?
10. In tune to the rhythm of our father’s proverb,
I began the holy dance-chase of life
Which for today, tomorrow and ever is virtue
Soon, I caught the golden butterfly
Then I discovered I was in love
Copyright © Anthony Oni | Year Posted 2005
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