Distorted Lines On Fresh Pathways, a two-fold from Bose Ojo

Distort Lines On Fresh Pathways

                                                                   gothicplaces34 Bose Ojo

“Sound the gongs

Yes thunderously that

Reverberating ears could hear,

Silently though”…

 

 

THAT I MAY SLEEP

I will travel light

And pack my journey heavy

Roam into childish uncertainties

Though treacherous path

Returns certainly not

With lushes as brown as rose

Intent filled with no purpose

Tomorrow furiously bright like dark

Future casino-ed away in glorious past

In you, yet I seek you…

Give me some coins, gold perhaps

Let me buy glue, remould it

With fore-knowledge of impeding fiasco

But deceit in me deceiving me

That at least I try fumbling in known ignorance

That, I’ll gladly speak to myself

That I may sleep

 

 

 

 

WAIT

Oblongs on rounded holes

Nothing Fits

Fury chariots claiming souls

With tits

On this ground that I sleep

Is blood

But on the bed that I wake

Is seasoned broth

The past shines

The future dies.

 

 

 

WHERE, WHAT?

Sound the dumb-bells of remembrance

Tongue-tied to loins in ambiance

We saw the great fall to the weak

The mighty kneel to the sick

Preacher vaults the savory coins

The council eats with four hands

Heir is nakedly clothed on fine sands

And here we still are, Tongue-tied to loins.

 

 

 

 

“Journey Akin Journey

And return not

At least not to Zion’s Haven”.

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