PENMIND MEDIA & CREATIVITY

Supposing, not heart, bones break as we fall out of Love ,  Would you dare to fall in love over and over? Who would be that sense defective? Supposing Love is blind,  I'd see pretty Cintia and Lucas the albino framed on snap chat. 'Yeri and 'Younce the dwarf would be sighted hand in hand at the Orchid. Since Adam, the emperor in Cupid’s palace Love made Adam join Eve in her fall Is that true love or eternal witless? But for a lover of wisdom, a thinker, I firmly hold that Love camouflages in irony, That lovers soon become haters, Love holds the greatest potent for hatred, Just like death is precursor to life. Shall a seed grow unless it is buried? To truly love is to stand in love lest you break a hating. Rethink Love! son of man, only waters should fall.  Masculine and feminine, quiet t imaging falling. I suspect that Love is in truth conditional, Love, disguise, an enterprise of mutual profit. Shouldn't we stop deeming love as a pit here

In the air of attic moment and springing game Pins of dreams pitched the tent Bucolic scenery captures imaginary breath Edges and ridges sprawl in length At the hut of night, mortar and pestle interact. Flash of sun induces creeping thought Through the paddle of canoe, ADEPATE interplays waters Thirsty, not of water, but of digging sweat In this trail, she built a thunderstorm afar in growing hills Echoes of unseen buried the blazing peddler. Shrink of view extends prevailing preference In bedroom of flowing waters, consciousness unlocked the gate She stumbled among the stem of thorny labyrinth Envelope of shadow eavesdrops comfort that lies in metallic lip She sang her luring songs at the crates of sands.    In the reign of strength that sustains eagle’s wings in sky ADELANA untie the knot of hidden route Chiefs submitted their royal beads to appease the prince Desperation ignite fire on village sacrifice In the eve of thought, he danced

From the lachrymal gland, through my eyes tear ducts,dripping the emotional liquid. I sat at the balcony, staring into space, wallowing in the sadness and lost in thought. This was triggered by ‘what is keeping you from marrying Bimpe?’ asked by a friend. For this made me remember the discussion I heard with my father years ago. I was with him, the unlucky man, and my question which stemmed out of curiosity, started his revelation of the hidden story. ‘Daddy, why is mummy always treating you like her disobedient child?’ I asked looking straight into the innocent eyes of my father. The year was 1993 and I was 8 years old then. My mother was the husband and the head of my family as I heard from our neighbors, silence used to be the order of the day for my father when my mother was talking to, or nagging at him,  I even witnessed her slapped him once, when he tried a manly action. “It’s a long story my son” he said as he beckoned to me with h

Ogun* wears the crown Of the smithy As the Lion wears the crown Of the forest. Which of the deities Will move Osin'mole?* Who will envy the Tortoise, Olakaye,* chesting  the gourd To the palm's neck And the cleverer snail leave – Unpraised, backing his own To the palm's peak? However heavy the rain On the skin of the soil, It will never wipe blank The Leopard's spotted shirt. NOTE: *Names of the god of metallurgy, war, creativity and destruction in Yoruba world of reality. © Ogunyomi Israel Abidemi 03/07/2017 1: 30 PM