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The Sky Is A Globe, Wide For Birds To Fly by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale Peace

The Sky Is A Globe, Wide For Birds To Fly.
.
Now that the cups drink and the world is still
It seem broken while dregs toss away like
streams without end– the cup of sorrow and
water of pain; it's like a Palace's mess.
.
The land the old ones trod are now bushes;
They cleared it and made an easy tough road
Now, the stone age seem to seek a cleared road
than ploughing their thick bushes when its tough.
.
Does manna still fall from the hungry sky?
Mannas fall for birds that seek the manner
cos the sky is the globe, too wide to fly
and we here are ants, do yours while I do mine.
.
"words from the innocent mind"
             Philip Peace

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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
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Akinwale Peace AkindayoPhilip Peace