Sentinel Poetry (Online) #44  


ISSN 1479-425X Editor: Amatoritsero Ede                                                            


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Angela A. Nwosu




The faithful bacchants declare

that the darkness of the night

is the darkness of clarity

clarity that enlightens the chloroformed

silence of daytime

when gliding shadows are a

litany of emotions

whose blood is distilled

into the fountains of oil


The priest of the night proclaims

that the face of the country

is a broken map and a yawning


He declares the innocence

of the night and a baptism of wine...

daytime is the enemy

where people are mere shadows

dripping with the blood of blunders


Nighttime is a celebration of the

second face

where smiles weigh nothing on the scale of conscience

and the true-self dissolve into

an endgame

Night is the lord of fresh illusions

where abbreviated tongues play

back the tapes



The second face is not alone

the hidden enemy is an alcove

of nuances

where silence hangs like a mournful

wake on the ceiling


In the santuary of pretences

the heart of laughter treads softly

holding on to the equilibrium of


evading the circle of mindless



A desert of lies run through

channels of inverted annulments

the bonding of fire breaks on

the money-table and the wrinkles

take on a lying mirror


The eye of the mind

is the tool of power

The night is a sign of colours

The shadow is a forecast of moods

I grow from blindness to


because the heart agrees

and the word is made manifest.



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