Skip to main content

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

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Read the story. TEARS IN MY EYES

BOOK PUBLISHED: TEARS IN MY EYES by OLOLADE AKINLABI IGE.GENRE: NOVELLA

Synopsis.

                     TEARS IN MY EYES     The anxiety for sex prompted the award winning and young Nigerian poet (Ololade Akinlabi Ige) to sharpen the keen mouth of his pen to write the novella: TEARS IN MY EYES. This is a book for everyone to read.
The pains and agony the main character in the novella went through were meant to awake the conscience of the wicked being. 

     Ariyo is a beautiful lady. Eyes cannot deny that. She is a product of rape but she leaves behind her worries knowing fully well that the world is good for no one. But she feels it is very stupid if she eventually falls victim of what led her to life. She tries to always avoid intimate relationship with boys because she knows quite well that boys often come with different missions in which most of the time their common mission is sex, sex and sex.
     But we are all human being, this heart needs a companion. So it is for Ariyo who uncons…

THE LOCAL HENS AND THE CHICKENS | FABLE

FABLE 1

THE LOCAL HENS AND THE CHICKENS.
Once upon a time, a woman has a big store for her chickens. The chickens are so big that they give big and good eggs everytime they release eggs. The woman fed them so much that they were weighty even after releasing eggs.
One day, a customer brought some local hens to her, she said
"Try them, they are also good hens. They give big eggs as well. You'll enjoy keeping and feeding them."

The woman collected them and added them with his chickens. The chickens and the local hens stayed together in a place.
One day, the woman gave them the normal food they eat, as the chickens pecked their food moderately, the local hens scattered it with their legs as they peck, they scattered it around and peck, they did that till they liter the whole place.
Mother hen looked at the chickens,
"We're the same now, we eat the same food. We will yield the same eggs, we will be on the postal too."
The chickens flap their feathers feebly and rested th…

NIGHT SYMPHONIES.

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
of our salvation on this cold night.



Akinwale Peace AkindayoPhilip Peace