“Sound the gongs
Yes thundorously that
Reverberating ears could hear,
Silently though”...
THAT I MAY SLEEP
I will tavel light
And pack my journey heavy
Roam into childish uncertainties
Though treacherous path
Return certains not
With lushes as brown as rose
Intent filled with no purpose
Tomorrow furiously bright like dark
Future casino-ed away in glorious past
In You,yet I seek you…
Give me some coins, gold perhaps
Let me buy glue, remould it
With fore-knowledge of impeding fiasco
But deceit in me deceiving me
That atleast I try fumbling in known ignorance
That, I’ll glad lt speak to myself
That I may sleep
WAIT
Oblongs on rounded holes
Nothing Fits
Furied chariots claiming souls
With tits
On this ground that I sleep
Is blood
But on the bed that I wake
Is seasoned broth
The past shines
The future dies.
WHERE, WHAT?
Sound the dumb-bells of remembrance
Tongue-tied to loins in ambiance
We saw the great fall to the weak
The mighty kneel to the sick
Preacher vaults the savory coins
The council eatswith four hands
Heir is nakedly clothed on fine sands
And here we still are,Tongue-tied to loins.
“Journey Akin Journey
And return not
Atleast not to Zion’s Haven”.
