Idylls Of Theocritus Poem by Prince Kenny Osei

Uhhmm! ! !

I thought I truly knew these days;

Until today: this moment

When the pen seizes to flow,

and all the options are exhausted

When I imagine the wider-margins

between this persona

and the tomorrows envisaged

When I involuntarily snap my pupils;

the watery fluid oozes

with timed-competence

like that of an assassin





I thought I knew these days until today:

this same day

When the Idylls of Theocritus,

and the anonymous literary devices

walk rumpantly in my dreams

like the orders of denouement

Or perhaps

in Julius Caesar;

when Marc Antony referred to Brutus,

as being an honourable man





When the aesthetic distance between

the tip of my pen to the depth of my conscience

become feasibly unidentified

(Miles apart)



When I begin to value the written

texts as eclogues of shepherds

Or perhaps trochaic of Hiawatha

but in a jinxed-connotation

I let go off indecision





I thought I truly knew these days;

Until today

When I lean towards my 'weaker' hand

Pyrrhic & anapestic arts render the best imageries

I ought to yield to





When I finally thought I knew today;

I realise that;

One step....

At a time
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