Simpa Omoluabi

Simpa Omoluabi Poems

I will wear you out if it is good to wear you out
Address me like a letter bomb
So when I address you
You don't read my message

From the trees, from the grooves, from the fountains
the brides are compelled to a weaver's shed.
Who are you with queer workings that detains
ghosts, leaving chores, to observe you instead?

Nightfall is a mountain heap of ashes
for the day is a legendary bird.
Cinders sedating the world to slumber,
remains on which an enmassed sleep cashes,

You can hear the dream for tonight bleating;
don't you understand? for you are asking,
in doubt of my love, if I do or not
love you. If you know the throats I have cut,

The revenge of a rose
is in the promise of beauty
for the wrath of beauty
is in the awareness of totality.

The progenitors are the past of the future,
but coming and goingthe children come after them,
and what comes after trails
and what trails is behind.

The embodiment of beauty
is unmasked in your face,

Two new moons are formed
when a circle eclipse a circle.

When two revolutions have a set

If love is true, could it this be
this unheedful happiness stirring in the bones,

like honey stirring in your joints...

Nightmare in a chimeric splendour
Of ember-hearted pigeons moving aloft to the sunset,
While women, old and young, out of the grainfields,
Bemoan the Seraph of Daybreak in the dunes of nightfall.

White dove silenced
with a leaved olive stem,
standing on a fissured headstone,

Tell the vendor that for every paper sold
to strike out the unworthy headlines,
give every pretty passing girl a bleeding heart
for her hair; a heart boned with love is broken.

While the fields are blessed by the dew
and the stars rosary the firmament
a Shepherd against the curfew
attend an intimate moment.

Seated in tiers,
in decorum for the unknown,
after a vigilant sacrifice.

Out of the loom I pluck a rose,
out of the loom flows flowers
of the beheaded,
a deity slayed of a deity laid.

The starlings make way
for I come, post with mutable music,
to be emasculated, abiku, in brimstone.

Oedipus is a fit case for mankind,
an allegory for our industriousness,
that by ourselves we render ourselvesblind
in tune with the mantid that gross darkness

See, do not hold your mirror of a moon
Against me for too long face of the noon;
Behind the rite I hear your smack and hiss

Riverbank where is your vault,
Through the mazes, your sepulchral fruit?
I see hunters and knights seeking aim…

In the breaks of vagrant crusts
Upon prostate adulations
The tranquil egoflamme of omniscience
Yeast the valiant essence with surefire.

Simpa Omoluabi Biography

I. Simpa Omoluabi, a Nigerian author and poet happens to be the founder and High-priest of the religion MORNINGSTARWITNESS, in the light of which I state I am the Incarnate God. Some of my works are as follows 'VALAKA WAY OF THE SUN ' on https: // 'I BLACK LAMB OF GOD' on 'MYSTERY OF LIBERTY' on 'ADAM AND EVE AND THE MARRIAGE GOD' on 'OLUOKUN' on 'POSITION 69'https: // 'MOTHERFUCKER: THE GODS ARE TO BLAME' on https: // 'SONG OF MOSES THE OVERSHADOWED KISS OF JUDAS ISCARIOT' on, https: // 'SONNETS OF THE BLACK LAMB OF GOD' on https: // 'DANAIDE' on 'OEDIPUS The Prodigal redefined ' on 'THE OLUOKUN DREAMINESS' on 'MINOTAUR' on 'ESU THE DEVIL AND OLORUN LORD OF HEAVEN' on

The Best Poem Of Simpa Omoluabi

For All To Be Well

I will wear you out if it is good to wear you out
Address me like a letter bomb
So when I address you
You don't read my message
Like a letter bomb wrongly addressed
To you
Treat me like the patient man I am
Treat me like the patient one that I am
And there is great hope it's going to be well
For I care for all to be well….

Copyright © For All To Be Well by Simpa Omoluabi.

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