Tuesday, September 1, 2015


pen's epistle

Though vast is the world
its vast can't obtain all men if
together they are to stand
as skilfully wide as the skies
closely birds bear their flocks to flick
for a signature of ermine
when too clean is the wearing water
nowhere find the fish to hide
when too high is a mount it
grows a hill where none towers
while in the day appears the moon
it withers its fame and shame
but in darkness prides the night
but in the night prides the light
words are the alphabets of mind
swords are the letters of war
for thoroughgoing thoroughfare is the world
none assumes the master of all minds
adscititious is this earthen earth
oneiric are its teaming weal cum frith
by the red sea you arrived a goner
if red wines wine away the memory
then leave on as a despicable loser
see me if nor my voiceless voice you hear
says the pen growing to the rank of death
yours till we recompense, your poor pen

 Muydeen Adeouye. All Rights Reserved

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