segun Johnson Ozique

Freshman - 857 Points (25th, Sept.1961 / Lagos-Nigeria)

Indulgence - Poem by segun Johnson Ozique

My life is of burdensomely drudgery
I need an adventure, something exciting
To take my mind away from my dreary scribbling
What shall I do? Something off the cuff

Then, there before me was this vast, dark and mysterious bounty
Beautiful, luscious, inviting, irresistible, I was salivating
Count down to a thousand, reason, my sixth sense cautioned
But you are a man, my indulgent sense exploded
Made of flesh of ego, supremely created
With foresight to pregnant tomorrow
Laden with the hope of today
The pre-eminent over lives on earth and beneath
Licensed to pursue glories with furiosity
Commander of waking interspaced with sleep
Captain of ancestors, kindred and races
To whom every space and head curtsy
To whom, of whom which, what, why
Shall there be that, which the man can’t have?
What then is the joy of living?
If restrain or fear dictates the joy of existence
In this space age and time
Of competition, expeditions and adventurism
With chariot of live so bountifully laden

But if by deeds we realise, sixth sense through inner life intercepts
That the flesh, blood and bones of being
Is but just a chariot delicately balanced on two unstable pods
Skeleton enveloped in delicate film, perishable
Tugged and pulled by unreasonable ego
But surviving on tools of caution and reasons

But who wants to live forever
The indulgent implored
Only through the excitement, exhilaration
The light and inner spark
The quest, the dare, the drive
Can the ego live its prime?
Any other, is nothing, but dull, dull, dull

The answer was thus laid bare
I was born to win, to dare
Delightful characteristics veiled by caution
But now, touched by the Midas, the spark of life
Must, I shall exercise this freewill

Mechanically, my legs began to move
But every step accompanied by groans
Of death beats, tree cords and wine
Suddenly, there was a rustling somewhere
That made the aromatic death-damp dry up
With fear of uncertainty gripping my belle pit
I am a man after all, fallible
Too late to reason, dear, sixth sensed admonished
Nobody lives forever, indulgence responded
I want to live for a time, I thought
No one time runs forever, was the retort
The movement of sweat was felt
Trickling down my armpit and back
Then came tightness in my chest
I heard, rather than saw the vulture hovering

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 26, 2010

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