The Skeptic

The skeptic blossomed
in this land
a bougainvillea adapted its thorns
for its cunning adversaries.

The aesthetic
birthed the sun
in a scream that killed the mother
an abstract of the senses

The voyager
hoisted his flag, donned a beret
wayfarer of the turbulent seas
drinking his spirits high

The lyricist
sang the song of Jonah
with the interludes of Prometheus' fire
the dance was a wobble of pain

The agreeable is like fickle light
seeking imports
from the letter of gestures
without the principles of living

The Neurotic is having dinner
with the philosopher
opening frontiers for conquests
not on the map of coveted time

The talkative is telling a story
he does not know
from hearsay to heresy
but files are docked in history's embrace
for all who truly search

The rebel
is not afraid of death
death by fire, water or wind
death by political correctness
is of the worst kind
in the boundaries of the lifeless
and the lost is the cause celebre for
perceived champions

The Prophet is the king
in a home blinded by lack of meditation
sutured at the seams of its heart
plundered by a tyranny that abides
and a brotherhood that shatters the communion bread

The warrior
is conscientious of bloodbaths
wrapped in the leaves of laughter
Uma leaves of concealed blows
and the triumph of silence

The lover
Finds conversations in public spaces
that strips naked, private parts
romantic orgies against the animal of
cosmopolitan desperation
The lover looks for new bedspreads
that colour patterns of tranquility

The fool should be Shakespearean
playing to the gallery by usurping norms
bending beyond to discover new gems of forms
inflicting men with laughter for their woes
for the sake of legacy

The Poet
is a long journey
laureled by few poems
pot-bellied by aborted thoughts
on the crossroads
where my god,
Esu Elegbara
sits
Eni mo o ko, eni ko o, o o mo
looking at mankind after an oily dinner of Adin
for a splash of disasters
in the name of God the father