Mosi Mustapha Gomina

Mosi Mustapha Gomina Poems

Behold scattered grains of mortality;
seeded deep into the lives of mortals;
pruning dreams till birth of reality;
availed from the slums of ancient Golgotha.
...

From the birth of light till the death of Time,
The swift-swirling torches that sail our clime
Were arrayed in rafters for the blue Earth
In celestial patterns across the hearth.
...

This is the ordeal of a mortal kind;
Who heart to soul and to the mind combined;
Was moulded in despair and utter loss.
A creature so fair but a morbid cross.
...

Oh ye mere mortals of the present age,
I ask that ye hearken to my wordings;
for it is the thoughts of a decent sage;
celestial whispers that roared while mourning.
...

If age was golden falls in lands of blithe
Not clothings sown for skins that pamper gloom
I'd drift in speed to knolls that sing of light
And taste the sweetened threads of youthful loom.
...

I went to bed quite early
One sullen night in May
And dreamt of little Shelly
That I had met by day.
...

Suppose I dwell in a land called Saboon
Located amidst meadows on the moon
With four-legged beings
And a pair of wings
...

Recoil I from the tendrils of darkness
While I trudge up the vale of my own fate
Knowing nought but the glut sevile silence
Whereupon I eddy in bemused state.
...

I fall
Upon her lair
Of breathless seduction
Although it seems to me quite quaint
...

I have ambled from a place I know not
Down to their salient Earth
Whereupon I strive to add to their lot
Yet without breathing strenght.
...

The roses chime in spiral sway
A court of flowers chant in gray
As ere-like bands in locusts' knell
Aflamed and bound in Janet's spell.
...

Fellow priests, monks, nuns, friends, all that read this;
as burning tears roll out my failing eyes;
this is what you must do when I'm deceased;
with my body cold; my soul in the skies.
...

From the tainted sanctuaries of mortal guilt;
ensures an expanding abyss of grievance;
laid as a drenched butterfly on retribution's altar,
I kneel to cleanse myself of my blood-stained hands.
...

Lucid thoughts wavered amidst blurred images;
as my spirit drowned in lethal graffiti.
Spider legs of confusion crept up the walls of my mind;
and mortal thoughts were mutilated beyond regularity.
...

In a land within the Heavens;
a cave atop the sea;
where all stars are but eleven;
my heart shall pump with glee.
...

When all words appear amiss;
when the tears drown the eyes;
when emotions fly with ease;
Jane's ghost is passing by.
...

Onto the cradle of mortal sleep;
that ye may from unconsciousness, sip;
I bid thy young prying eyes goodbye;
lest my cold voice to silence, is tied.
...

Bless the meek whispering Heavens;
bless the weak weeping clouds;
bless the winds that seem driven;
by chariots of the South.
...

The Best Poem Of Mosi Mustapha Gomina

Armed Fire-Rings Of Immortality

Behold scattered grains of mortality;
seeded deep into the lives of mortals;
pruning dreams till birth of reality;
availed from the slums of ancient Golgotha.

As men strive to trample on aged Time;
though the mortal hands are bound amidst fear;
fate is awakened from the slumbering mines;
reeling forth to weave humans' thread with care.

Desert-terrains of mere humanity;
abandoned but without mortal success;
for all men budget for eternity;
searching hither for eternity's crest.

How the celestial beings over this, laugh;
watching mere moulded dust leaping with glee;
with hands stretched forth to take hold of the staff;
but losing grip of eternity's tree.

Like frost patterns on a coloured window;
so lovely, so bright; but subject to change;
thus, immortal yearning that pleads to grow,
is planted and nurtured but dies again.

Oh ye men, moulded out of the Earth's crust;
longing to see the birth of a new sun;
know henceforth that thou art nothing but dust;
from it, thou were born; to it, thou returns.

This is the cycle of life; a circus;
where men bleed and hearken to death's decree;
fleeing the dark loop of humanity's curse;
armed fire-rings of immortality.

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