WHEN FATE DANCES…
In Africa, greeting is an ornament
In YOUR veneration, I lie low.
By the MAKER, I greet you!
What an honor
When, a man from strife cease.
What a shame
For,a nit never from meddling cease.
Counsel in the heart of man
A deep water, it is likened
Only a man of understanding can draw it out.
But then,
Most men proclaim everyone his goodness
A faithful man who can find?
Who can say- I have my own heart washed?
For, only a just man walks in his integrity.
Many devices in man’s heart shown
Even a toddler by his doings known
That which by man crooked, can by man be straight made
As that wanting, cannot be numbered.
Now I’ve seen Stools, even of late
Both in current and in ages
Creeping in and creeping out
All in their myrrh meritorious rhythm
In so far as light darkness.
For when fate dances,
Only the gods can afford her beat.
BY AGBO C.D (ACHIDESFUR)
LOVE'S ETHOS
She wakes,
Gorgeous and classily noisy
But full of life.
She is all i really have,
My only hope,
My sole custody.
The secrets of the unknown died with him
And i am what i am.
May be i will live forever?
I hope not.
It's not in any man on earth,
Not in any man, not one.
Immortality is gone dead.
I can never give my heart to anyone.
But Her.
She will always be mine.
And i will always be Hers.
She owes me body and soul.
She's the love of my life.
She's my City and I... I'm Her spirit!
IN THE BOSOM OF TRUST
Once there is trust ,
And some one becomes every one !
Once the feet trod, not other path
And the mind thinks of nothing two, but sole
Once hands works for goal and no goals
Once the heart’s given !
And infatuation ripe sanity !
Rose grew thorny .
Thence come he!
No longer with the brain .
A sojourner and the crossway!
A bushel in whirlwind.
By heaven pray the head focused the front .
Even so as the bushel settles.
For in the bosom of trust
Lies betrayal!
JERUSALEM
Oh! Hideous chime of the western origin!
How sacred the mention of thy name,
And holy, thy path to trode
Fortified with walls,
Girded by garb.
Thou, holy city; earth saviour doth gave
On sight, pilgrims draweth to drool
Before thee, royal python of the gigantic erection doth wake!
Stirring in the shrubbery of thy shrine
The holy lexicon…
Such forbade,
But, for the knot nuptial tied
Oh! Hideous city of western dome!
To thy soil, striplings crave,
Goaded to action to have but a sip.
As though throat call them fire wood!
Unquenchable thirst thou dothst gave
Plighting thy troth ,
Assuming the recourse.
THE RISING SUN!
The cruelty with which it was won
Contest indeed, it was.
Beneath tree shades and shrubs,
Staged in utmost expectant, spectators.
Jealous two cockerels in a bout for mother hen.
For in such, an thrilled their gaze.
Starved nosh and necessities.
Of riches in dwelling place of heaven
Makes the bout one never to stale
As necessity beget invention!
Brave breast in the middle of such blood,
Felt it, bamboo that exhales fire!
Many had a turn of one.
And to so a many, a whet of swords.
As the chief crier on a metal gong,
Would proclaim a command labour!
Even so, the bamboo foments.
Folks in fear and tremble swam.
It is broken, the flute that heightens the spirit,
And the skinned drum sheltered,
That in its measure accompanies the leg.
‘’Surugude’’ put in abrupt quench
Dancers put a fold on their mats,
And in abroad dark day, departure under feet.
What a reflection of the’’ peribus’’ time.
Where every element of her distinct heritage is obliterated.
Eva say never, no victor, no vanquish !
For by man his story is made.
And forever, the story!
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