What is it beyond

the fence that taunts my gaze

and set rage ablaze…

Shall I pace and divulge my rage a-free

to set this matrimony into abyss

Or erase my thoughts, my fears,

my hate, my rage and insanity and fill this

empty vessel with love from behind the fence.


Letter to Unborn Child

To my unborn child,

forgive me of the sins of

my youth; for my emotions

transgressed beyond the ink

to which I write to thee.


You deserve to live.

Everyday my heart beat for thee,

my love for thee be limitless like the

lines of thy palm.


Wrinkles on my hand,

your hands in mine, a

seed from my blood line;

I will forever love you till

the end of time until

death do us part.


Birth Story

In dark hour my existence

was conceived in secret.

Suspended in fluid like

aqua man, I’ve grown

bored of this cavity.

1989 I escaped from womb,

umbilical chord wrapped

around my neck choking

me at depth to death,

as I took my first breath.

Born in water, I rise like a

baptised child, the doctor –

John the Baptist.


I hear joyous sound but

blind to their happiness

for I am born into a world

of anarchy where protogeometric

pyrotechnic problems are

embedded in every footstep.







Afro and Comb

From the multitude of

strands in my afro

I pick you out as special

with a comb, but

your emotions recede

like hairline

I bought you wings

ready to fly

but crashed my

heart into the treeline

Three-times we dined

I unshackled her

mind six times


Of my character you do

not know, and I yours, but

still I comb you up like an

afro ready to defy;

but you left my heart

soaked in gin with your lies


Here I go, deep sigh,

no tears no flow

as I script my

thoughts so slow

like the sex-drive of

a scorpio.





Fake World

In a confused world,
exists fake embodiment

Confused in thought
I reciprocate with
a smile.

False or true,
a smile is a smile,
masking deep thoughts.

Mooring line secures
tangible mind to ocean

Invertebrate creatures
soaring high and above,
while I remain-chained to
this floor

Verily in this confused
world, equality is tainted….

To be continued

© Dotun Gb | Poems

Untitled thoughts

Moët & Poet

I dream of luxury
with a sip of Moët
and cuban cigar,
but I’m no poet,
not even a writer.

Fury develops within
when hope vanishes,
so I turn to you.

But my heart resents.

Plight blinds my vision
to success, dreams
no longer exists, just a
figment of imagination.

My advocate restless
slowly dissenting me.

Happiness dwindles
with sands of time, but
my time still at distant

Avidly, simplistically a
simple, but terrific mind.
Poetry no longer
entertain, but my love

Plans executed without
conviction. Invertebrate
commitments lacking discipline;
all unfolds with anger
and depression. Typical!

Cynical reflection conjure
perception of failure.
Once, twice, thrice!
Price of success is steep!
But I sleep upon the raging
thoughts, tearing me apart
from within.

My mind trained
to entertain and
transcribe emotions.
The corset
of literature
simply too tight to

Thoughts of failure taunts
me, threatening my livelihood.
Ocean deep thoughts
inhibits my function.
Ashes to ashes the flame ignites.

Pouring rain earns audience.

Mind heavier than stone.

Life spits the
harshness of reality.
I guess it’s your will.
Drops from heaven
washes me clean,

My future distorted,
so I bask with thoughts
of freedom from all.

All but one; failing!

© Dotun Gb | Poems