A Word is Born

The quil blots its ink and a word is born

Hot Ether

whose gorgeous aura burns lambent like ether set on fire

Girl in Mini-Skirt

because a nubile girl in mini-skirt just walked by;

Spirit Soaring

and the Spirit soars in seminal poetics;

Poet's Muse

as the Poet's mighty muse parts the skies;

Universe Rattled

then the Universe is rattled avant-garde;

Whispering Hands

as two anonymous hands whispered to a heart;

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MY POETRY HOME — trespassers welcome

glass kiss West-End 'Counter Written at Kwara Poly, Ilorin — Nigeria.
(Friday, November 17, 2001)
I was entering a scandal prone
terrain of castrating women;
I was not ready to be
embarrassed on getting there;
I therefore lowered my ample profile
(to be on the safe side);
I even took refuge in childhood
fantasies along the way;
and I cursed myself for living
in these interesting times;
then finally I got to West-End at last!

She cheerfully hailed my
funny-sounding name from afar;
I sighted her peculiar pleasant
mien out of the milling throng;
I courteously beseeched her help
which I so awfully needed;
she obligingly smiled and
was ready to help;
so she walked into Room E-4
and came out with a great report.

"Ah, how do I say thank you?",
quoth I as I took my leave afterwards.

She again smiled.

And it was a smile so ordinary
that it surely couldn't cure cancer;
but so alluring enough it made me
thirst superlatively for a
drought of drink –
a draught of her breath,
the breath of her charm.

Sweet honey sweet, fair enchantment,
sweet endearment:
Her two luminous eyes were as
two alive dreams promising abundant relief
(like the sweet mercies of God);
and her face at once became full of
lullabies of visions that presented
a heroine's mystique.

I could have died and resurrected
ninety-nine times before I realized
I had fallen into a ditch by the road;
and even several months now after that
I still walk around in a daze,
wondering what had hit me;
while a portrait of hers that now
hangs in my room animates the
abstract vistas of my midnight dreams.

© 2001, M-Auwal Gene III. All Rights Reserved
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"In love, one begins by deceiving oneself, and ends by deceiving others."