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Sentinel Poetry
(Online) #39 The International Journal of Poetry
& Graphics February
2006. ISSN 1479-425X. Editor: Amatoritsero Ede |
E.E. Sule
these mornings
there are
mornings evening-mornings,
midday-mornings: you blink
from wild, aeroplaned sleep and a
government whirls
around with reforms bleaching
the very walls of your ulcer there are
mornings barren of
day’s wisdom lunatic
on the crest of
open-ended vision and
radio, always radio blares a
harsh government into you
morning eardrums with plenty
of reform truths yet there
are mornings clever,
clever mornings that
ambush your sleep with
brilliant wonders of reforms and
you’re gasping beside yourself clever,
clever mornings dropping
therapeutic logarithm to
scratch your itching dream to pour
you into mainstream reforms these
mornings always
bring you a government whose
strides are in deep
romance with mystery whose amens hold you to impotent heavens. didn’t you, B? I told you
didn’t I I’m
still the protagonist of your dream with wild
fists for knockout blows I only
own the fetish mind for
worshipping the gods in your eyes ha! I can orbit your palm with sizzling steps proud
masquerade in the
courtyard of your palm you knew it didn’t you the wild
lion in my heart hovers around
your eternal smile a guard
in world of cruel laughters my fangs
are hidden in the chest of air for as
you frolic in rhymes of everyday lines cruel
teeth lurk in dark corners of flesh furious
venom is housed in my stare those
shameless naked tongues that lay
you alter of lies will drug
their ways into my stare, unspared I’m
still the protagonist of your dream |
E E Sule |
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