Shall i scribble for a thousand years
Pour on pages an ocean of ink
Till my phalanges clench
Of the foul plays that stinks more than the skunk
...
In the silence of the mid day
When lethargic bones bask in the sun of vacuity
I hear a voice, a young voice
That punctures the vacuum of silence
...
Here I am simply writing,
Writing a poem, I believe.
People write when they feel loved,
When they feel touched.
...
Not old enough
Most people would say
This life is tough
But i must have my way
...
To reduce the cups
And increase the shekels
Cloud our minds like sand dust
The impulse of our hearts
...
Nine moons we were bore
Under nine scourging rays.
The earth's heat and the sole's sore
Through life's maze.
...
Your boundless ocean of love
In which I have sunk in
Flows through an endless desert of time
And flows through the blood stream of every one you touch
...
Why do we always turn away?
Like the sojourners to Emmaus
In disappointment laden with great despair
Absconding from what seemed-peril-like
...
In abyss of despair,
When i feel like am drowning
In the ocean of Sorrow
Yes, there is no revival - I think
...
Behind those dewy eyes
I find lustre, lush and solace
Which the gentle breeze of dusk
And the shade at the foot of the iroko
...