Adeosun Olamide

Adeosun Olamide Poems

321. To Samantha 1/7/2015
322. From Happenings In My Dream 10/19/2014
323. Save Our Planet. Plant A Tree 7/1/2013
324. Last Night Dream Of A Friend 7/1/2013
325. The Life Of Alex Paul 3/7/2014
326. On Gods Silence 2/11/2015
327. Lucifer's Hell 2/16/2015
328. If I Die Tonight 2/26/2015
329. An Infantile Of Eerie 2/27/2015
330. From Sayings- The Imams Hunter 3/17/2015
331. Teaching From The Brethren 3/22/2015
332. I Thought Of You- 3/23/2015
333. My Moriam 2/24/2015
334. I See In All 3/19/2015
335. Heavens Gossip 3/14/2015
336. No Apologies 3/2/2015
337. Mary's Flame 1/12/2015
338. Through My Route 2/7/2015
339. What Jane Has Done 2/17/2015
340. Memory Lane 5/21/2014
341. A Mothers Eclipse 2/10/2015
342. Grieve Deeds 2/26/2015
343. Unlocked 2/26/2015
344. The Letter That Killed Tom In Uganda 2/26/2015
345. Inchoate Is Love 2/26/2015
346. Gallery 2/23/2015
347. From Professor Rabiu Diary 12/5/2014
348. Whispering Shadow 1/26/2015
349. On The Prison Walls 3/3/2015
350. For Your Life Is Worth 3/10/2015
351. Unholy Thoughts 2/26/2015
352. Mothers Whispers 2/26/2015
353. Season Of The Coffin Makers 2/6/2015
Best Poem of Adeosun Olamide

Season Of The Coffin Makers

Out here in mist, a virgin widow
With coffin just wedded husband
He died of laughter, she says
That was pure, untouched

In here the mist, a virgin mother
With coffin just wedded daughter
She died of syphilis, she hears
As priest turns her away

Out there in paradise town, a candle light
With coffin of virgin mother
She died of laughter, all says
That twitch sprouts in head hers

And silence in the cathedral
Out here beneath mist
The coffin of its priest
A veiled rapist night before shot- heard

Read the full of Season Of The Coffin Makers

A Walking Shadow.

Crow of the cock calls into pleasant dreams,
The ray from the aged untamed fury sun gladdens and saddens him,
The greet from the aging locust peddler seem a bleating scream,
He forever lay in a mere shell of old ache grim.

The curtains of reminiscence aloof, except for memories unknown,
Mood wavering in desolation and shade as though of lingering rose with no jack,
This, for thought of dabbling feet in flowing stream consumes him,
And all that remains is unpleasant voices humming

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