A night in roam

I can hear the voice of the stars

in the silence of their thoughts.

they are a cursing nation

with their glitters

piercing through the ocean

as they sit on its bowel.

The moon shades memory

of my past in daunting replica:

it lies me to the ground once more,

the ground, the mother that bore me,

whose lips are made of fire.

her kisses bring death.

Loneliness is a city in the night

whose indigence desert for their homes

in the presence of fading shadows.

love comes like drops of water

with meddling sprinkle

as it lightens the sky.

I can see two heads praying in the rain

under no sheet

while moans medley with splashes.

memories trickle down my spines

as two gaudy torsos welcome me home

with their climax rasping in claps.

Dissonance

There’s something always found

in the tales of women with no child;

a life before a body,

a dream before a night,

a rainfall of emotions

before the sun shines his teeth.

the womb is a home whose map is lost,

it awaits a voice to direct her child to her

to fill up her emptiness.

the women trail the path of pain

like dry leaves falling on a healthy lawn.

a child reaches its home

as semen communes with blood;

the women feel at home again

while they leave the exile of want.

About the Poet

Wale Ayinla lives in Abeokuta, an ancient city in Nigeria. He is the Managing Editor/Publisher of dwartonline.com.

The post Poems by Wale Ayinla first appeared on Prachya Review.