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AWAITING THE SHADOWY DIRGE & OTHER BEAUTIFUL POEMS

By Adeola Ikuomola
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AWAITING THE SHADOWY DIRGE
That blazing morning sun
Circumcised the baby sky
With the sword of passion
Upon his tearful flowerbed
The rarest wafts of colours
Like a rainbow-born fabrics
Touched the singing beaks
With the keyboards of lyrics
The skies are wet with love
For poets, poems as poetry
Lessons taught as rhythms
Theme sun the dream team
The old tailors bend double
Sewing the tear-soaked rag
For the delightsome flowers
Awaiting the shadowy dirge
THE SKY IS BLIND
The sky is blind
And twilight is deaf
Terrorism has been born
And nightmares are scorpions
The night is ugly
Her wagon is deadly
Fear has been fashioned
Serpents and scorpions as one
Life is a foreigner
Death holds seminar
Our hovels are alphabets
Dumped upon dog-eared books
Tonight is a rope
Tomorrow is our hope
Off these ghostly gardeners
We look forward to bright flowers
REARING OF GUINEA PIGS
We are viable guinea pigs
In their fiscal laboratories
For their artificial famines
And a superficial drought
We lack political proteins
In sawdust, straw and hay
We celebrate our hutches
With tridax, pea and grass
We farrow and wean litters
In our pen their will written
To sew garments with sow
Wallowing deep into buffet
THE PLAGUE IN OUR PLAQUES
Lurking around painfully
Spreading wide fearfully
Treading on us carefully
Threading woes tearfully
Falling upon us dreadfully
Grounded our life gainfully
The deadliest of darkness
The plague in our plaques
THERE HAS BEEN TROUBLE FOR THE HOUSE
The turbulent paragraphs of the sea
The tumbling paradises for all to see
Weeping within tears to the gateway
With the skies mourning the late day
Note to dread the bread for the dead
When the noble souls ruin our throat
Like the wayward ward of dull thread
Trafficking life-lines' nascent growth
As their pregnant mosquito abounds
With cold serpents and drunken owls
The whispering for the wild rebounds
Their souls hang on stowaway bowls
Their dark clouds lead our ray astray
Upon our fountain sorrow they spray
There has been trouble for the house
Where crown cultures the late mouse
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