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Asaro Elepo Rederede (Biblical Allusion, Prosaic Poetry)

Asaro Elepo Rederede.

Good pale evening, grinning and breathing skulls,
I am the old hair; the white rust of black.

I saw two Kings in her womb as she strived,
the older will serve the younger, said I.
She gave the two blood silky milk as wool,
One has goat's skin on his flesh, the else doesn't.
Twins were they, but the older loves farming
while the other is the salt in the stew;
He loves home and cooks like Captain Cook's wife.
The father loves the farmer to the Cook —
The mother loves the Cook to the farmer.
The farmer came from the farm famished one
day, he begged the Cook for food and the Cook
asked for his birthright in the stead of porridge.
The wise fool farmer let go leadership
for the stomach. Wise men turn fools with a word.
Their father has one soul, one breath left in
and he wished to pray for his beloved.
He sent him Bush meat — may I call it as
to grease his palm. Mother heard and told her
beloved. Secret is a news. The Cook
prepared fresh meat and wore ' animal's skin.
Blind father prayed...the farmer is still there.
Farmer came and father said he'd prayed, and...
"hath thou my beloved?"...the farmer asked
"is there left even a curse that thou might
lay thy hands on my head...?" The grinning skull
dropped his hand. The farmer has a boiling
fire in his head. The Cook feared death and he
spoke to his leg. Mother never saw her
beloved till she closed her eye to sleep.

What love is it that loves one than the two?
I am the old hair; the white rust of black.

Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Image source: Google


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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