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Read the poem dedicated to activist titled We Are The Black Holes In The Kneeling Sky by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale Peace

We Are The Black Holes In The Kneeling Sky.
(Dedicated to all activist of various positive forms.)
We are the black holes in the kneeling sky
The one with kudus from dim waters hi
The woodlog of death panting pale and vile
And the breath of ooz'ng pine in knotty tie.
We are the deep dark black blood, low and high
with speculates with havens on the sky;
The lion trade of dribbling me for you tie-
The shoe laces of the earth, yet untie.
We are the deaf speeches, deaf days, day by
Echoes ascribed to fated heavens as fly
of a thousand bastard and gallop'ng die,
Once we live 'n' die to die and tears decry.
But we're the horns of trumpeter hush bye,
We're the bitter sky that bites vale and high
The flame of blue star fuses, the sky sigh
Like sparks, we blow of sm'thy, but we ne'er die.
We were once the twitter sleepy bird's cry
We were once vain vein in the windless sky
But we're the horns of trumpeter hush bye
And the deepen'ng shades of the hunted fly.

"words from the innocent mind"
              Philip Peace


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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