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When Are We Going To Enjoy Wealth by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale Peace

When Are We Going To Enjoy Wealth?
Hunger walks on the street like a beggar,
The city is hungry while few cry
This 's hunger's unprecedented era;
e'en the blind could see and the deaf could hear;
That hunger walks on the street and enjoy.

Those men with cozy dreams are respected thieves,
They steal our treasures and feed their pockets,
Yet, we say it's their time, let them enjoy
while we swim in the pool of poverty;
Oh, we are flying birds of same feathers;

See, a bird doesn't dominate the sky,
Yet the eagle is as king of them all–
So, we print on papers for them to steal
from our heritage, while we, yet knowing
fold our arms and flip pages of paid news,

Nodding our head affirmatively like
a lizard? we act like we don't know that;
Our wing is weary and our well is dry–
We are the earth, waiting for ice cream from
the sun, please tell me, how will it not melt?

Yet, we applaud them when they appear on
our screens. They're dirty noblemen and thieves.
Royalty is uglier than gold, those men;
The Chiefs feed their bellies with our money;
Tell me, is in a-well or our to be wealth?

And, hunger walks on the street like a beggar,
And our high pitched voices are not speeches.
And our solemn plea to them is a storm,
And our violence seem to attract their peace;
Tell me, when are we going to enjoy wealth?

"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