Iniquity

Never seen is the faceless truth of law

in the court of flaws devoured by

vultures

Truth play dead in the library of

corpses

You can’t touch the truth, its a

phantom

Inquietude, truth burns lie,

ashes light in weight, it has no

measure on the scale of judiciary

I study the pursuit of anatomy of

iniquity in antiquity. I dissect the

anatomy of life and therein, 

embossed in a cocoon of humility,

the seeds of truth.

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Informal Lovers

my thought of you

strikes a harmonic chord

against the rhythm of my

thumping heart; the vibration

lingers on-and-on-and-on.

you’re the music i loved once,

but i just don’t love you

no more.

 

contradictory to every notion

i know; the motion of my

drum-stick against the tender

drum leads to regret every time

you walk-by.

 

i see the sunrise and i think

of you; but i just don’t love

you; still you forever remain

with me.

 

hugging and kissing; memory

lane casts solitary happiness

with no one to share with but

you.

 

you are my poetry in words, my

regrets be the prose in free verse,

and all i can do is reminiscence

through these walls.

Myrrh

Not a church
girl she was
secular.

My poetry is
a metaphor for
the unknown.
Known to
none but me.

Your heart beats
out of bounds infinitely.
Infidelity taunts me.

I see men slamming
her, an’ taking her
to the sewer.

Out goes the
braids, in comes
the weave.

My dignity
is my pride.

It’s hurts
but I never
show.

But I bring
her home for
extra
candle-loving,
because
she’s far
from the usual.

© Dotun Gb | Poems