Eminado,
I like what I see-
sages and commandos
on duty, taking over the sea.
This poet is so good!
his words salty,
his words salty,
quenches taste better than food
served to lower the haughty.
served to lower the haughty.
I’m stark naked
by his word puzzles-
crosswords merging t-junctures
to create easy flyovers,
by his word puzzles-
crosswords merging t-junctures
to create easy flyovers,
settling thirst’s quests
with watery lines
merged for witty guests
awaiting vines from his cranial-mine.
with watery lines
merged for witty guests
awaiting vines from his cranial-mine.
He’s more like Sango,
spitting fire on paper
to dry the Limpopo
off our rumbling matter:
spitting fire on paper
to dry the Limpopo
off our rumbling matter:
Our land stressed-up by
polity-crises; rickety-mices
leveling blames on yesterday.
polity-crises; rickety-mices
leveling blames on yesterday.
He is just like Osun,
the goddess of fertility,
irrigating sterile hearts
with humour as his armor;
the goddess of fertility,
irrigating sterile hearts
with humour as his armor;
fostering symbiotic biomes
with rhymes and rhythm
splashing like “the talking waters”
falling from lake Victoria.
with rhymes and rhythm
splashing like “the talking waters”
falling from lake Victoria.
He has met the mark,
the sky-standard
set by sages in the cult
of creative symbolism
the sky-standard
set by sages in the cult
of creative symbolism
Now,
may his words
strike the fulcrum’s balance,
may his words
strike the fulcrum’s balance,
bringing healing
to the broken fellowship
of real prophets thriving
in the poets’ domain.
to the broken fellowship
of real prophets thriving
in the poets’ domain.
© Ehizogie 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment