FORLORN; Of boys by Oluwashola Isreal Oluwafemi

Day32

#365daypoetryforadvocacyandsocialchangechallenge

Yesterday, we heard four boys fell in between petal and thorn, trying to puck the feathers of a butter(fly).

Yes four boys!

_of a boy:
Who wears the face of a god,
Tongue of sermon, caressing, kissing,
and converting a girl's temple into wet scriptures of romans and solomons

Of a boy:
With the complexion of love
Filling, drilling, the sacred spaces between
our lungs with dark hallelujahs, turning
our bones into jericho and d.u.s.t.

Of a boy:
Wearing the body of the sky, burying his head in between eclipses and hell, placing his soul on a stammering tongue

Of a boy:
With the body of a cobra and rod flipping and planting lust in between a woman thigh, making her the only city that doesn't recognize God -an hell without fire

So i ask myself, How can a butter(fly)
without feathers?

Then sanity repels, like the opposite sides of a magnet-like north from south

Perhaps!
I do not know of erosions or rainfall, but i know of how 'we-men' lose their footprints
to the seashore.

I do not know of love or scorn, but i know
Of how rivers become reflection of mockery to their source

I do not know about death or dearth, but i know how 'we-men'
Live by dying everyday and this poem is one of them

Is it true roses withers too?
and darkness travels faster
than light without a skating shoe?

Oluwashola Isreal Oluwafemi is a writer, born in the western region of Nigeria, a native of ondo state, owo, a business administrator with the passion of art burning deep in him.

centerhref="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtpLqIzONXBUywtO4TJ3jJMDXI_pWj-qWLe4whq_BibA8e5UfbljElTQ3CQJZx8Go5wfw4rwcwEfnDj4ReleTQBKYXMOOA1gDNbI5yoh1Spe69mvDeklT-nGhmR8nrcDVCT5yimT6I6kY0/s1600/FB_IMG_1526057023192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">

Comments

LESSONS FROM TWENTY SOMETHING(s) by Veralyn Chinenye

1, Stop Counting people's blessings ~ It is interesting to admire your friend's success, but don't try to compare and contrast, you're different persons and your paths have been mapped out. When the temptation to compare especially on bad days fingers my eyelids, I pull out my gratitude journal and write out five things I'm grateful for. It could be as little as being able to keep to time or even for being mentioned in a good will comment by a friend. Being grateful opens us up for more. 2, Try Leadership and Politics ~ I think there are two different things, one is seen as good and the other is seen as bad. The mention of the word "politics" get us grabbing our bags, and the mention of "leadership" gets us spreading our clothes in the open. My involvement in both has impacted my life and my dealing with others. I see both as siamese twins. Politics makes good leadership and Leadership makes good politics. You should try it! ...

Miles from Independence by Tydale Bassey Abigail

Day87 #365daypoetrychallengeforadvocacyandsocialchange Our cloths have torn Our hairs grown bushy Bones emaciated and legs swollen Muscles displaced And our vision discouraged... The path behind us looks abandoned by haggard legs, Bushy as if untrodden See, our babies have died Our kids starved Our boys imprisoned Our girls raped Husbands and wives betrayed And the aged disappointed... Yet the eyes of our polity bulges like the blind statues of Nok Culture We used to have hopes, But they are now tired in the arms of abortion The promises of independence have become stillborn; Mutilated with the bamboo of corruption. Even the wishes that once painted our eyelids Are beginning to wear away Yet the senses of our constitution have breathed only heat on the sore skins of our destinies The song of the national flag has become the loudest noise sung by toothless leaders; A pirate declaration to our unity in diversity Our capital cities are plinths...

A VANGUARD SPEAKs by Oche Celestine Onjewu

Day72 #365daypoetryforadvocacyandsocialchangechallenge Let silent lips speak the loudest Of what the birds need sing, Roar it to the mountains What good news we bring Let the weak raise feeble limbs And every wet eyes dry, You no longer have to bury your dreams, Or behind the male do hide For our dream were shattered, Because it was a girl’s Maybe we are born and bred, To piper low and live in fear Just like a bird we were given wings And told not to fly, We are to wait for a messiah On whose feet we must lie Tell it to the girls in the east, And to the girls in the west, It’s time get on your feet, And live your dreams to your best Your daughters no longer should shrink, To make themselves smaller, Girls too can reach that zenith, For success has no gender . Oche Celestine Onjewu is a Physicist, Poet and a Writer.

Sprinkle storiez

Search This Blog