Tunji Ibrahim

Rookie (Ilorin, Kwara State, Nigeria.)

Tunji Ibrahim Poems

1. Love Misspelt 9/18/2012
2. A Lone Wolf 9/18/2012
3. If And If And If 9/18/2012
4. In Ilorin.. 9/21/2012
5. Shadow Of The Past 9/21/2012
6. The Hemlock 9/19/2012
7. Leery Madness 9/24/2012
8. Love Prose 10/2/2012
9. Cogito 11/8/2012
10. Calabash 11/26/2012
11. Quintupled Belly 11/27/2012
12. Power 2/12/2013
13. Security 2/16/2013
14. Cultural Dream 3/12/2013
15. False Gods 3/12/2013
16. Nature 3/15/2013
17. The Roots 3/24/2013
18. Cogito (Ii) 3/25/2013
19. The Quest 9/19/2012
20. Memory Of Silence And Sadistic Parametres (I) 2/9/2013
21. Memory Of Silence And Sadistic Parametres (Ii) 2/9/2013
22. Cryptic Seasons 12/23/2012
23. The Fear Of Nada 9/18/2012
24. Letter To My Love 9/17/2012
25. Of A Sense 9/22/2012
26. Liberation Therapy 9/27/2012
27. The Cabals 9/20/2012
28. Crack 10/3/2012
29. Listen To My Heart's Beat 9/17/2012
30. The Preacher's Analogy 10/18/2012
31. Memory Of Silence And Sadistic Parametres (Iii) 2/11/2013
32. Of Me In Me 9/22/2012
33. Damini Saga 1/22/2013
34. Difficult Bargain 12/12/2012
35. Socrates 10/27/2012
36. Vocals 10/16/2012
37. Knowledge 1/15/2013
38. My Apple Tree 11/16/2012
39. To The Princess 1/15/2013
40. If I Ever Live Again 10/7/2012
Best Poem of Tunji Ibrahim

Empty Heart

Innocuously dangerous, pelted with some sort of simulation, obliquely lost in the brachiocephalic trunk, the actual region of love syllable attuned to the arch of synthetic penetaliation. Acrobatic triangulation beamed the bang bus partitively, above the innominatus chest of pecuniary nodes. Many a bridge led to her tolerable cornervations. A thousand bones enmeshed her regal flesh in the pashmina of futuero. Unknown to many, drills and rides came to be inversely proportional to her juicy interminable chara of refractory malady.

Read the full of Empty Heart

Love Misspelt

My blood runs superlatively through the missive pen, just as superfluous to defy your thrust of 'love misspelt'. A massive drama at the peak of misnoma, nay, something of a meiosis. My heart is but a pentagon overflown with the love of love. An explosive vilification of my heart atlas. Don't think me dippy.

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