Dead Pages Poem by Adeniran Joseph

DEAD PAGES

 let name our numbers from the beginning of life,
 You will see salts falling off your chest like splashes of waters.
A dead river is another secret of life,
Just like salt is another name for endurance.
Just deep your left hand into salts and rub it on your face,
you will see how red sea departed from the eyes of men,
To tell you anything salty represent the colors of legs who walk through the verses in a deaf page.

They are rooms in our bodies that air can't reach,
Rooms that smells of bloodshed and wet weather.
 I saw a home in the mouth of seabird.
A home is not built in a day,
still our hands puzzle the sanctuary of speechless birds along the epitome of madness,
For home shows the map leading to the hole of  a resting future.

Let hold our eyes and swallow the flesh air as we burn ourselves into flakes,
I feel a body movement like water running in-between my legs.
Waters are humans representing the lyrics of noise walking headed souls into indifferent world,
For that is the end of men becoming bodies for dust.

 Let find a formula at the end of logarithm,
 for those who bear the names of ashes in another country;
As we fold our laps and digest our spits too,
Now, I saw a broken door lying beside my gran mother's grave,
Just  tell me how doors could become a passage for humans' feeling?  
For doors is but a cemetery of home living in silence.
Doors are humans. Humans are doors.
As we open; we close too.

The amount of songs sang in a burial are different fumes walking itself into a blind eye,
Songs do talk too,
They weave words into their pocket,
Like a dirge saying the words of ghost.
Benin lives in a mouth of roses,
Roses that kiss you and walk away like bullets finding spaces in the heart of two lovers.
Don't tell me your mother will live long,
But tell me each memories she has left behind,
Those tears holding the guts in your body,
And binding you for a safe trip to a city in her mouth.
Touch not your annoying brother,
For that's how we were taught to hide ourselves beneath stinking clouds.