Love, Exodus Poem by Wesongah David

Unto the streets,
Dark, barren, lovingly hostile,
Back dropped by the sounds of a kissing gun,
Fancied by the dogs-hounds of seventh incineration,
That was me loving a rose in heathen bloom.
Bound by the blood I seen flow,
An immortal oath taken under the merciless street lights,
Mortal petals ashen by the lure of the cold rivers
Flowing irrepressibly down Seventh Street,
A cascade of heavenly bliss under a façade,
Of it was meant to be.
Exotic principles orient in origin
Never for an uncultured rascal
Prudent-a matter of all occasions,
That I love thee now-love you then-and,
Afterwards will take care of self.

Dropping on my knees on the concrete,
Just enough time for a prayer,
Say I to my redeemer,
Save thee from paranoia,
That I love love from hence onwards,
Passion for the crude naïve love of the avenues
That knows not beds roses or condominiums
Raw and unscripted, for the hounds over carcasses
Till then hope and pray that mature it not,
Remembered for lust’s aggressive will
Unscrupulous kisses and drunken love
For the metallic feel of a trigger
Pull a smooth one and am done forever,
Love nevertheless.

W.08