LETTER TO IVY
Frail face under the pale veil
I could only sniff your cologne through the crowd of desires.
As my humility steps to the Front
Picks the coin, face to face with you.
But yet couldn't reach you
I flipped.
Left our option to pursue a life, in the hands of a golden coin
Golden chances escaped our bronze nails, as we fought for true friendship
I would let go an incisor, just not to be insecure
about
if ever, the tip of our mischief thumbs could touch
The quietness of your eyes, drills a tunnel
With a little candlelight at the other end
Hoping to find hope, in distress
Inspiration in regress, but the walk through the dark times shall spring over us hand in hand glued to one another.
Steps forward, towards light
As we wish, to feel our temperature with our hugs
The flipped coin shall spin to the ground,
And the veil of the head shall be opened
A beautiful face over the shiny veil.
I could only sniff your cologne through the crowd of desires.
As my humility steps to the Front
Picks the coin, face to face with you.
But yet couldn't reach you
I flipped.
Left our option to pursue a life, in the hands of a golden coin
Golden chances escaped our bronze nails, as we fought for true friendship
I would let go an incisor, just not to be insecure
about
if ever, the tip of our mischief thumbs could touch
The quietness of your eyes, drills a tunnel
With a little candlelight at the other end
Hoping to find hope, in distress
Inspiration in regress, but the walk through the dark times shall spring over us hand in hand glued to one another.
Steps forward, towards light
As we wish, to feel our temperature with our hugs
The flipped coin shall spin to the ground,
And the veil of the head shall be opened
A beautiful face over the shiny veil.
COLD FEET
Stepping on stones by the river bank.
Silence whispers toughness to the stones
Shielding the escaping waters from their body
Freedom was tasted during waves,
But guards, stationed at each curve and bend
I have crossed the ocean of my thoughts
Spoke loud to freedom.
But my still dreams, handicapped
Lacked strength, to break free
What is the need of the thought?
That drowns before reaching the tongue
What is the need of an action?
That chokes on its own saliva.
What is the need of a dream?
That dies before dawn at awakening
Cages at the corner of every thought and dreams
Chains to every fighting fist
Blood to every bleeding soul
That yearns for freedom
But lost its voice.
Stones shall rise up
With cold feet
and
give eulogy to the barred dreams
And lay broken visions to rest in pieces.
Silence whispers toughness to the stones
Shielding the escaping waters from their body
Freedom was tasted during waves,
But guards, stationed at each curve and bend
I have crossed the ocean of my thoughts
Spoke loud to freedom.
But my still dreams, handicapped
Lacked strength, to break free
What is the need of the thought?
That drowns before reaching the tongue
What is the need of an action?
That chokes on its own saliva.
What is the need of a dream?
That dies before dawn at awakening
Cages at the corner of every thought and dreams
Chains to every fighting fist
Blood to every bleeding soul
That yearns for freedom
But lost its voice.
Stones shall rise up
With cold feet
and
give eulogy to the barred dreams
And lay broken visions to rest in pieces.
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BIO:
David Olayimika, is a writer, and spoken word poet, with major parts of his skills performed as a student in Babcock University, where he hosted the first Spoken word poetry Concert in the University. He is based in Ogun state, Nigeria. He is presently working on his debut public chapbook titled "YIMIKA". He is a lover of dark poetry, and recreates his punchlines from secular trends and doesn't believe in fictional love. He is a writer for Lostiva Africa. He is also a football addict, an actor, scriptwriter, and dreads chocolates but a lover of plantain.
David Olayimika, is a writer, and spoken word poet, with major parts of his skills performed as a student in Babcock University, where he hosted the first Spoken word poetry Concert in the University. He is based in Ogun state, Nigeria. He is presently working on his debut public chapbook titled "YIMIKA". He is a lover of dark poetry, and recreates his punchlines from secular trends and doesn't believe in fictional love. He is a writer for Lostiva Africa. He is also a football addict, an actor, scriptwriter, and dreads chocolates but a lover of plantain.
