David Olusanya

When the moon walks on your heart,
And the world is all an art;
It is a priceless portion poetry-
A poet's song of liberty.
...

Hello my dear?
How have life made you fair?
The nights of cold have made me bare,
and I wish I could fly back to you over there;
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Tell this to that dazzling angel
that caught my eyes and made me fell.
That made me fell like the might of Troy
and made me cry like a little boy.
...

This is another divine cake
just like I've fondly made for your sake.
Fresh from the oven of your best baker,
who is also your favourite, humble waiter.
...

When I gave my heart to you,
and you gave yours to me too;
You became my mortal goddess
And saved my soul from distress.
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To be righteously candid,
the truth is hard to kill like a stubborn weed.
Whenever you try to tell,
your heart would ring like an ancient catholic bell.
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When I used to be a boy
with a heart so pure and coy,
life was just a playground;
I played hid and seek and was never found.
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The truth is better served when it's hot,
before it's cold and the tongue gets rot.
There is no more greater pain
like denying the truth for a brief gain.
...

I had wanted to let it pass
like a dead storm's carcass.
But my conscience is an independent dagger,
it stabs fiercely and makes me stagger.
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I must either have you or nothing,
my dear lady Sansa.
The moon be mild and the sun smiling,
but life without you will be a cancer.
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A poet can never die
nor does he go to sleep.
A poet's demise is a loud lie,
it's a waste to wail and weep.
...

I am guilty of treason!
A sin more red than crimson.
To be discrete is too late,
‘cause the enemy is at the gate.
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Things fall apart
morality is murdered.
Humanism's set to depart
harmony is hindered.
...

Never heard so sweet
from the space of heaven's streets….
touching down to earth so low,
tuning hearts and souls aglow:
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If love is a prison
lock me up for a season…..
till the sun sets at dawn,
and the stars spring at morn.
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The fact is firm and straight
like a manhood that can't wait,
that I'm in love with a nun…..
a gem brighter than the sun.
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Let's make my room a theatre
Let my bed become a stage
Let the stars be our audience
Let our blood mix with rage.
...

In recent times, I was lost
amidst the usual human gust.
I was bullied by the tide
that I had to flee and hide.
...

I once asked my mother
Why
few men are found far up
High.
...

The fact is candid
that my name is David.
A poetic principality,
word are my casualties.
...