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  • For Esther Oluwatoyosi

Your pain is a scathing song on the lips
of a coal — it blows its freezing heat on
your soul. your pain 's an ocean of darkness,
it surges like the fluid of hiv
cos' it drains you pleasantly, pains drain you.
and it is not unwell; pain shows us peace.

So you can cry, beloved. you can cry
all you want. cry like shedding snows or as
shedding rocks, cry than a baby. your tear
is a melodic melancholy soothin'
your excruciating pains because with it,
you find solace and solitude — solace.

Your tear is a blast of breath from the dead:
it's the only freedom, beloved. you
can hit yourself a million time, you can
say you're ill. but you're not unfortunate
like the soil by the beach which spots no shirt —
it loses its essence. your life is one.
and when you need to cry. cry all you want.
it is life itself. it isn't life alone.

"words from the innocent mind"

Akinwale Peace AkindayoPhilip Peace

Crying doesn't mean that you're alone, it is a term to explore loneliness in a broken mood and a time to endure brokenness in a frozen mood. You will find gives you one.but you don't need to cry every time you want to, it makes you weak, beloved.


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     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.
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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