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SOUL'S SOLE JUSTICE.

SOUL'S SOLE JUSTICE.

Dedicated to every woman who rightly fought back.
"Fighting with your strength lies on your basis; you are your voice, you are your strength, your challenges doesn't end easily, you do something to bring them to its final end."

Sade, a very light (decorated with brown colour) hears a beeping radio from the policeman. She sit there looking courageously helpless. She smiles at herself when she hears the Commissioner of Police saying, "hers is a critical case, we must treat this with all sensitivity, we must be careful now."

She adjust her falling dress and looks at her hand. She remembers telling her children when the older daughter asked
"Mummy, there is blood in your hand, where are you coming from?"
She wasn't expecting her, she has been arrainged to see the bar in few moons, there is no greater shock.
She feigned a smile weakly, she held her hand and clasp it together with hers, she looked into her eye and smile

"Don't …
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THE LOCAL HENS AND THE CHICKENS | FABLE

FABLE 1

THE LOCAL HENS AND THE CHICKENS.
Once upon a time, a woman has a big store for her chickens. The chickens are so big that they give big and good eggs everytime they release eggs. The woman fed them so much that they were weighty even after releasing eggs.
One day, a customer brought some local hens to her, she said
"Try them, they are also good hens. They give big eggs as well. You'll enjoy keeping and feeding them."

The woman collected them and added them with his chickens. The chickens and the local hens stayed together in a place.
One day, the woman gave them the normal food they eat, as the chickens pecked their food moderately, the local hens scattered it with their legs as they peck, they scattered it around and peck, they did that till they liter the whole place.
Mother hen looked at the chickens,
"We're the same now, we eat the same food. We will yield the same eggs, we will be on the postal too."
The chickens flap their feathers feebly and rested th…

NIGHT SYMPHONIES.

NIGHT SYMPHONIES.
For Ikeoluwa.

I have sailed in the ocean — on
your body's warm drenched spot axis,
and i have felt the touch of your
freezing burning hands and cold words:
you said some soft words gently in
my ear on a cold night. and my
body is a tree, it rustles
when winds beat. winds like your mutters.

I have a whirling desire
that we are over the 9th edge;
grabbing, rocking, licking, tasting —
and the passion flows 'n' action shows.
your whole body defines a lot
even when i see nothing but
the voluptuous pillows of a
tired bed, calling me to sleep.

Slowly, this pace beats rapidly
like a running fire. and i'm
burning coldly on a meet with
your whitish round thorax muscle.
glorious! your body is a bike
and i'm good at riding roughly.
slide and glide, make a symphony
of our salvation on this cold night.



Akinwale Peace AkindayoPhilip Peace

HOME HUNGRY YEARNINGS.

HOME HUNGRY YEARNINGS.


We have walked our feet to dirty muds be-
cause our belly sought bread and manna.
we have walked across the ocean and we've
been shown the sacrilegious act of pain.
a brother has the skin of the night, so
he is to be buried beneath a sun. —
so he works like a tractor while he begs
for bread. we are songs lost in a trapped wind,
hoping one day, the remains will be tak'n
home and buried. after all, harmattan
rustles in this shore is as the clap of
leaves in father's town and it reminds me
of home. and relief in distress. it's my
sameness. if home greets me not, my remains will.


"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

HOW PEOPLE DIE | For Soulilieon O. Noel

HOW PEOPLE DIE.
For Soulilieon O. Noel

And you, we just laughed yesterday
and today, you are going down....

Don't wear a gathering of ash,
you don't become a ghost like that.
mama told me people die when
they don't want to yet they love dying.
they walk themselves into a strange
street like a burning ocean fire —
the space is ill so it's easy
to give up. they're not tired, life
became sour when it feels it's time.
you know time runs, a running time
is like a good shadow walking
you to the full moon, till time runs
out of the breezes of your breath.

People die by shutting their eyes
to darkness— darkness hides in it:
it is solace, solitude 'n' pain.
people die while smiling, while crying;
that is why organic skulls grin.
people die...how do people die?
people die because people die —
because there is no special death,
because there is no special life.
people die because people die.

And you, we just laughed yesterday
and today, you are going down
and you said it's okay. ...you…

FROZEN

FROZEN.

For Esther Oluwatoyosi
Your pain is a scathing song on the lips
of a coal — it blows its freezing heat on
your soul. your pain 's an ocean of darkness,
it surges like the fluid of hiv
cos' it drains you pleasantly, pains drain you.
and it is not unwell; pain shows us peace.

So you can cry, beloved. you can cry
all you want. cry like shedding snows or as
shedding rocks, cry than a baby. your tear
is a melodic melancholy soothin'
your excruciating pains because with it,
you find solace and solitude — solace.

Your tear is a blast of breath from the dead:
it's the only freedom, beloved. you
can hit yourself a million time, you can
say you're ill. but you're not unfortunate
like the soil by the beach which spots no shirt —
it loses its essence. your life is one.
and when you need to cry. cry all you want.
it is life itself. it isn't life alone.


"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace AkindayoPhilip Peace

Crying doesn't mean that you're alone, it is a ter…

WITHERS

WITHERS.

There is a world in my head, and
from the moving of breath, i know.
the night steals a sigh from my breath
and this blank space crawls in my eye.
these nights house a graveyard, even
an illusion which is real'ty
as dreams are. these nights house the soul
lying b'neath the soil of emptiness.
these nights are happy as a child
who knows nothing about darkness
while staying in it. innocence
is a gathered grieving of a
body flow'ng out of its spirit.
these nights are holy with the sins
of darkness; shooting arrows of
lightening and a soul's victim.
these nights are as distant mountain
flutters of roses 'n' hidden breath
of whispering spirits. these are
in the night of grieving laughters;
in its elation of sadness.
these are nights of my moving breath.
and its mournfulness. is gladness;
in its awe is living behind
the breath and breath'ng before the eye.
what darkness is compared ' these nights?


"words from the innocent mind"
Akinwale Peace AkindayoPhilip Peace
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