Skip to main content

THE OCEAN WAS ONCE A STREAM for Motunrayo Adegboro on the 8th of April, 2015

Birthday Update from Temple Of Words


When I laughed and jumped around with my head
Landing on the ground men trample on
Some said I was crazy
That my senses are now lazy
They said why the laughter!
They said why the joy!

And I shoveled words into the mouths
Ah! Motunrayo, it's motunrayo!
They said who is Motunrayo
What did she do to you!
I said every thing
And I said, every thing
And when they asked again
Who is motunrayo
I said she's the one that has the crown of words
Upon her head!
She whines too, yes, she whines like leaf
Tossing and hanging on a stem
Crown of words!!!
Crown of what!
they murmured
they marvelled
and immediately they bowed
Not in her presence
But in the presence of her absence.
Hey, Queen of words...hello,
Today is your day
Today was that day the river gave birth to a stream
A stream that has now become an ocean.
Motunrayo, if words would permit me,
I make words word your world like the way words worked our worlds.
Motunrayo! happy birthday to you.


from Mide Benedict

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

God and The Snail: Poetry For Some One Lost Soul

Sometimes it feels Like all is done, That this life of ours Is caught in deadly thorns: From where we cry for help in a land Where to have ears is a great taboo! But in all these... we remember...

WHO DOES THIS BELONG TO? By MIDÉ BENEDICT

This is for those Who see life as an unfair land, Where growth is fairly found only On luck's fragile and ferocious tree: It is for those whose eyes only See reality as a coin Always tossed to uncertainty: For those who see misery As an inescapable ditch, Never to be seen when its mouth agars, Never to be escaped when its venom runs, But to be delivered like a slave for a ritual, Thrown like a cotyledon into dry soil, To germinate failure like a blocked well, Hoping to salvage a droughty throat. For those whose first name is lucky, Whose last name is uncertainty And middle name misery, Know that which you know not that The poison in your tongue is The wine your life drinks; It drinks on and on till stupor calls for death And stupidity dresses its grave Like a young man before a mirror, Staring unthinkingly at his face, Till he sees greyness in his eyes. This is for those who see eye to eye With the words on this slate. Image by Midé Benedict

TIED TO FREEDOM by Mide Benedict

Don’t hold me down L ike I’m in some cave Just like a bird flies Where nothing breathes light Through a hidden dark sky L ike an existence lost in inexistence, Locked up in a bottle     T hat only lives every day in an every minute coffin Tightened with an unbreakable cover.    Free me I said, but you brought me this! What freedom is more painful than   Eye balls without sights; faith without work like To walk on a spot;                    Mountains tied to your legs   While eyes go dark                    As you walk unmoving: In a place surrounded by light;            What a freedom! Image from : http://theadventurehandbook.com