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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
My mind distills away.
Scraps from the underworld.
Of education, tradition and media ****.
I'm tired of caring.
Sick of hearing, if I could.
Control my ears closed.
Block them from ******** talk.
Chain my eyes off the road.
The road is blind,
It twirls in murky worm fences.
I can't trust it. I don't know it's source.
I need to run from it.
The deep valleys eroded.
Brick red flooring, it's Ibadan.
Wobbling houses like sinking boats.
Like the school, the earth is.
Mixed with fire and water.
Bisexual topics, racial terms.
It hurts people, Education does.
Other opinions.
T-rays reveal ancient scripts.
Kept secret from us.
To lull in the sinking boat.
Like torpid trees.
Staring and observing.
The mystics become religion.
Which in turn, morphology of tradition.
A culture brings unity.
Under the slavery of memories heard.
To bare the burden of language.
A barrier, a paranoid ant.
To consume doubt.
Embrace the stories, devour the myths.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
The art
Of wisdom comes
Only from the courage
Of searching out knowledge without
Fatigue
Erow.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
Covered with green wigs.
They are ebony like me.
I saw barely through it,
The forest shields her nakedness.
By disputing others.
An infinite haven of music.
From the sluggish rivers;
I could see Narcissus.
Who would pluck that elegant flower?
Daffodils taste like ice cream in summer.
The sun swims through youth.
We would become stars.
What is at the center of the earth?
A gardeners protects his food.
The sight appeals the mood.
He burns the weed off boundary.
Cheers! To the tools.
The Lord blesses workmanship.
To eject from the universe is death.
Prayers save a soul.
Achilles tells his secret to Hector.
A wise god isolates humanity.
The free choice mammals.
Nosey bags of curiosities.
Destroying to heal.
A virus before cure.
I see resin,
at the tip of a tree.
I see it preserved the star dust wasp.
The amber look on the bug.
I would be preserved.
As sod till gilt-oil.
The morning glows peace.
Silence pulls music.
The birds prepare flight.
These trees bud in summer,
with a readiness of fertility.
They are virgins till then.
My body heats up.
Discovery defends reality.
Materials build a state.
Stalks fight back.
The cool state of gases.
Inhaling the perfumes of green leaves.
I'm on the move.
The sun is heating up.
Three goats smile at me.
Men chase them away.
A surprised guest in town.
The canteen is fruitful.
Mornings are treasures for bricklayers.
My friend, still, asleep.
Dreams wonder us.
We greet casually.
A girl keeps staring.
We just meet.
Serenade sung from the window.
A mistaken agenda.
I hope she listens.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
You said you want, you say you treasure.
But it's impetus in your heart and veins,
pompous in that fact, the heat drives fast-
beldams with your cruelish handsomers.
I vividly crawl in your genius,
quest on a very long journey in-
and yet out, though for a timely cut.
An uncouth dream forever trapped out.
And you wished those feelings over again.
Erow.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
Obsolete spiders
Throw tantrums when webbed freedom
Beckens it's soldiers
Erow.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
And they said, she likes you.
Let her in, and she damaged.
And stained my heart black.
Haiku. Erow.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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Ogheneruru Wekpe Poem
Art is god, filled with the essence of creation.
All the beautiful things webbed in broken pieces
of souls torn out from the mind into reality with ink.
Times and ages confirmed such immortal talents.
A tragic imagination raising perfection.
The spilled ink inputs patterns by deep inspirations.
Sourced from the wounds of the mind, healed on paper.
The moments tranced the viewers.
Peace be unto you, the magnificent duke
of sweet broth.
I am trapped in the liquor of art.
Erow.
Copyright © Ogheneruru Wekpe | Year Posted 2017
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