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Let Him That Does Not Believe In A Being by Akinwale Peace

Akinwale Peace

Let Him That Does Not Believe In A Being.

Let him that does not believe in a Being
build castles from dusts of Gold in full moon —
Let his breath vomit life into sculptures.
Let him grow the soil in a fuller pond
like the sudden surge of rain in the sun —
Let him sing sweet chirps if it be of birds —
Let him die and breathe again like the days.
Let him not be modern in an old mode —
Let him not strength in his feeble sick might.
Let his foolishness not lead scholars to
graves, for scholars are pupils in the school.
Let him not grow old as he was ' past times,
Let death be humble to him in its pride.
Let him not play with fire for it's cold;
Let him not plunge into the pull of God.
Let him not with serpent lips dare the Dove
Let him not say, -oh hold him-, "who is great?"
Let him create two air 'n' four furs of earth—
Let him if strong without strength dare not Him.
Let him not howl in song of gloomed sorrows,
Let him not that does not believe in a Being
be leal as the Bride to the Groom; form a loom.

"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