Ike Bismarck Oji

So hot a place, so fiery a city.
So damned a place, so nightmarish an experience.
Yet, in this fiery furnace hierarchy prevails
for the princes have their palaces
...

Long ago, was it diagnosed
Yet, to prove it took time.
With a single sentence
I was sentenced to freedom.
...

Peace!
is looking and penetrating into your eyes
seeing that you also are reading my eyes.
When expressly my eyes speak and voluptuously
...

It was so dull, it was so drab,
It lacked colour and it lacked humour,
It was a shadow of the substance,
It was unworthy of remembrance
...

Jerusalem!
The city of peace.
Yet, never in one piece.
The city of kings.
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My Best colour!
Yes, Yellow is my best colour.
The colour of the Rising Sun.
The colour, it brilliantly radiates life.
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Creation point.
Here, the bluery into the greenery delves.
As the sky the mountaintop hugs.
Upon this canvas, He His creativity inscribes
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There they go, bearing him in tears;
another gift for termites and earthworms,
another place in history foregone.
Just humus to the soil for all his toil.
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The Best is never available
since it does not exist really.
At best, it is an elusive sublimation
drawing you towards the Best.
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Running and reaching for glory
from behind propelled by this fire.
It urges on and it pushes higher
no pauses until done is the story.
...

As I roused, angels I did behold
at the centre of Y-shaped river nation.
A great funeral pyre they were making.
Six, their number and effigies they burned.
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As the sun in frenzy dances
on his children golden flakes casting
and in ecstasy, they yell, hail
as their heads, festively he drums.
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What a blessing
to insects, organisms that consume it.
With my spirit they shall be endowed,
truculent rectitude shall be their part.
...