Temple of Words

Here, I hear the sound of a plane Flying in the firmament of some darkened cold weather. Bgooohhhhm.... It goes on and on. I remember then I would shout into the naked and unseeable element.

What is in my heart has remained blind, Dumb, it has remained deaf. It's muteness is the tallest mountain That hides behind a log of dry wood.

Apus launcher wallpaper  It will all become watching silence When your two eagles fly With their wings unbroken, When your gallant horses run With their strength unaltered. It will become a watching silence When your black soil, Loam! Loam!

Behold them on the road and buildings, Those whose pockets never get filled- Front ones, back ones, side ones, All these keep eating and eating The cash and coins of passers-stop! And custody-shun! Their black pockets are always thirsty, Especially for the twenty of CBN's plenty. And these pockets Never get dry, yet unsatisfied.

If a man does not know How to wield a sword His mouth must be sealed to asking what might have Sent his father to the mongers of the soil But our hands are strong

We can be more! More than breathing stones- Structures walking on fragile ropes. We can be more Than blind ones on a journey to a pit full of heart aches

                       To the young,                To the old,                To my country.... I remember you, old man, Standing by a boy with three bent heads. For hours you stood looking at how The three heads of this boy moved closer to a break,

              ' We only hold on to those things sometimes because we are scared, afraid at what would happen when we've let go' Sometimes what we hold unto, what we think is our greatest treasure, what we think we cannot live without, all those things, every thing and everything are the first to be and can be lived without. We only hold on to those things sometimes because we are scared, afraid at what would happen when we've let go. We tend to ask the question, what will be our fates when we let go and would we be able to cope with ourselves, with life, with everything and everything when we set them free, but we cannot know

Sometimes I wonder How life can slander The things that drench us in pride, Turning them into waste Like the wet intestine Of a rotten timber that still has its root Stuck in the soil. Beside the posing ground, Where the cries of “Passport!” clickers Fuddled the air as one approached Oduduwa hall, There, I met my memory’s memo.

          And suddenly every man began to run to save his life!         Ah! What has crushed joy on the head?         Ah! What has made fun run to bed? They jumped into the arena of dances, Joy thickened on everyone's face Lovely air, sounds of drums filled the air. Ladies rushed out to shake their hips To show the men seated what they’ve got. Palm wine in cups Bush meat in hands Feet upon the ground Raising dust and sand, The celebration continued And the songs sang themselves greatly. And when the beings with masks arrived, Every woman jumped Every man hailed

           I saw me giggling again            Who once was lost to pain As you came near me to chase my sighs With a cloud of rainbows painting my skys I saw me giggling again Who once was lost to pain

Why do they move like this? Have their homes been wiped out by drops Of heaven's eye? In the soil and upon it They match and travel to The unknown. They build great walls of China as they move And abandon these walls as they proceed In case of casualties, nurses dwell within

They-sat-two-by-two, Wings-tapped-together By-a-small-big-rope. There-they-sat Holding-hands,-hugging Clinging-colour-of-love Embrace-them-they-embrace it too Things that I have seen In this world In people And even myself. The danger that lies In ambush for that soul who clings more Who beholds more Who loves more and who- Death be sure too!-!sometimes! And even cry more... An ambush, fire started by the smoke Of lost love lowered down a pit by lust And when this be, Dove dies Love cries And like light dwelling in a black-hole, ZOOM! love is gone! But it may not be What this mind thinks Maybe they are-true-hearts Two-true-things-taped-as-one Mingling-together On-steps-of-an-ancient-ground Next-to-square-cups-of-grasses Arranged-on-the-cemented-floor Now-silently-resting-as-they-mingle-too With-the-breeze Calmly-giving-this-two-single-hearts An-expression-of-a-weather-for-two. You-shall-forever-be-a-home-for this; Motion-ground- Oh!-Motion-Ground;-