DEAR NIGHT

Goodnight!!! It’s time to taunt the night

In ambushes laid at fort noon

With barrels and land busters

Gather by this fireside

Deceased souls of the night

Whom night swallowed in peaceful sleep

From your shrouding blankets

That so kept you warm on soft Mouka beds.

The night is as wicked as dark

Hence let’s in ruthless rebellion

Draw down its tent,

Burn its curtain by this fireside

That it may have no shades

To hide it from the daylight

Or from the goodness of dawn,

And in large crusade guide it to dusk.

But how can one burn the curtains

Of a night unseen.

DEAR DEVIL

Dark Night; my soul is unyielding

It cares of no disdain, hell’s gift

Nor the evil to seduce my heart

To play your cards on earthly altars

Or dine widow’s thighs in cold nights

When goose bumps thrills me down

Or let my sanctuary lie in dirt

Perpetrated in your temples of deceit

Or wine the night in rocking pleasures

That smears my purity dark

Or dance when you pipe your flute

In crescendo and falling diminuendo,

In synagogues of prayer and spirit,

Or weary when by frustration

You drag the day to a close end

Or sink in vanities delusion

When you stroke the day with your ploys

Or with my wagging tail dust your feet

To cover my short errs

Or repose in your tent in delightful sleep

While Master holds a summit of saints

That wants no part of you.

Dear Devil, my soul is unyielding.

WHY I SHOULD MARRY A POET.

Reinvigorated; a refreshing thirst

Love’s satiable quest and guest

Ambient splendor built on

Intriguing similes and seductive metaphors

Such poet I will caress on marital garb.

I will marry a poet,

That on rainy days, when goose bumps swell

We will cuddle in books and loud imaginations

Telling the tales of Romeo and Juliet; love unlived

Or do you expect more from a subtle cuddle?

I will marry a poet,

What gladdens and elates than

A meal concocted in rhyming melodies

Of vehemently viable vivacious veritable virtues,

What hunger can’t this satiate.

I will marry a poet,

Her thoughts will spice my day

With glowing enthusiasm and love jingles

What more pleasures do I seek than repose in her?

Tell me why I should not marry a poet.

LOVE UNRETARDING

Drown yourself to my heart

The love I seek is divine

Devoid of pleasure's quest

And drumming fantasies of flesh,

Rid of consumation or thinkering lullabies,

Or dark days of depression.

The love I seek is divine,

Full of compassion and enthusiasm

Of care and unflickering transparency

Built on the firm rock of truth and life

Why then not drown yourself in my flowing tide

And let me paddle you away in this ship of love.

Be Glad!

KOM KOM

 Kom kom, the sound of a perceived emptiness

That rattles, metal gongs, anvil and the mallet.

The sound of hullaballoo with no rest cause

Wandering the day in idleness and lofty loaves

Its ignorance as bitter as almond freshers

The depth of it hollow; the deep blue sea

Basemen with no sight and gen

Who wangle the day as no nights come again

And dead night when oil lamps awake are

Snoring buffalos sniffing for darkness

In all comfort as Judas on a kiss.

Lies still and watch the day arise

Clocking to and fro time pending flees

Whilst wisdom waste in books you read not

And your faculty withers the chorus and refrain.

And your course of Sophia waste in ashes

As in your lousy morning chores

Evening vespers and night scholarships

And the sound of your emptiness eluding,

Chorusing Handel’s Messiah on B minor

Dilapidating, withering, sneering, you die away.

Kom kom iti kom kom the chorus dies fades

ERODING PLAIN

Our government is forged

On saggy and wobbly work bench

Of corruption and charade alike

And diluted in pain and misery

Of vivid past and present failures.

A living hell cascaded in lives citadel,

With dark night full of purging thorns

Where peace, a wild goose chase

Is ambushed on highways and lowlands

With landmines and double barrels.

Government of no societal sustenance

With fake manifestoes and cunning looks

And heavens promise of a better nation

But are misdemeanors of lively days

Rooted in sacrosanct evils and exploits.

Citizens roam the streets on warren stomachs 

Oppressed each day on tax levies and fines

As some pockets are wide open graves

That buries the padded budgets

And wrap them on national television.

An eroding nation of great nutrient

Ploughed by cantankerous warms

And  Herods of insatiable power

And lived by nationalists of no might.

Where lies the hope of renaissance?

Thus in the pangs of death we lie

And wait each day as revolutionaries

While we watch this land crumble

With our ever ready lullaby singing it to sleep

And dancing to the fall of her great walls.

ONCE UPON A NIMBLE CROSS.

Hanging Crucicix

Agonizing conquest divine

Torn apart in transgression’s parade

 By unrepentant sinners in confessionals

Smeared in errs, drunk in gourds of unchastity 

Bathed in muffled dirt and girded on fine linen of errors.

Draw this soul in pitiful grief as it wears away in turpitude

Ever lumbering tears as this eyes closes in dismay

In death’s agony as this blood and water flow

Hauled as a wood on the cross of distress

Pierced on resounding trials in Geths’

Daring Calvary Man.