poeticjusticedaily's.Art.Blog

Suns going to shine by the morning at twelve, and by the evening we retire to our nest where felon lovers duck like plantain leaves, green and long shedding to the red Earth

We fed the birds corn and wheat, there beaks punctured on the tarred black road, we were amazed and wondered if they felt pain, but we didn’t know it was there joy to feed from crumbs

Each song had a jab especially our African afro jazz music, the way it rocked could make one feel immortal, like smoke swirling in the air, the swagger in the life, to be both flesh, rubble and human

The young can sway and be dope like Muhammad Ali, Jagga, Wizkid, Soyinka, Achebe, Okigbo, Marley, Jackson, Angelo, Einstein, Churchill, So when we dreamed it seemed to us like flimsy daily tasks to hide behind false smiles

By the streams gushing from the waterfall, palms itch in seconds tick-tock talking to sheep’s in the vine, alone lads spurned to yield from there tasks, it’s colonies are dark and fearsome as this floating seconds.