The Lamp

Pulling truth from the roots

So that it hurts

Mopping the floor with your tears

Still afraid to face your fears

Being like your nation

Afraid to take up your mission

Stuck on thoughts, glued to thoughts of passion

Not accepting you’ve given failure permission

Walking a verse to an exercise book

Just to hear people query your writing’s looks

Literally you are not in the woods, you are only emotionally so

Reaping the harvest that easy ways sow

Touching up your make up so that your beauty glows

A river is stuck on its way, so we settled for the spring show

Hello there, dear soul

Probe thyself, let flow

Your looking glass self needs a minute

I am not psychic but you need a reading

A reading about learning to breathe

Learning not to demonize the greed of your dreams

Hello deer, how soon till a pride falls you

How much of your acts did prying eyes force you

How much is there in a restless self

Not calling for the help you need, is reckless in itself

 

Pulling hope from its rusts

Finding a polish for self-trust

Renaming your challenges as opportunities

Calling fear a bully, declaring yourself as no longer ‘yours truly’

You have found space for thoughts

And a bigger one for works

Living life for the toil

Seeing accomplishments at a finished line but already tilling new soil

Moving in to a place where bits assemble along with pieces

Saying we are coming together, only if you stand close enough to receive our kisses

Sweat isn’t a bad thing if you are assured of a bath

A screaming woman is sights for a crime scene but you’ll be pleased about becoming a dad

Go atop a mountain, so to the earth it can carry your message

Your red line is to toil till life allows your dreams passage

Flip the page, a new age beckons

Here we are, thrusting ourselves onwards and upwards

Redefining what forces reckon

Ode to a Grecian urn

A dimple is ample response to a heart that is turned on

A lover caught eternally in a chase

The excitement of quickened heartbeats is a gift that death cannot purchase

Loving a world that came together for a man dragged on the aisle

Who I be, so asked the man loved beyond his rank and file

Finding causes that unite pulses

Let’s talk about infants being trekked to camp

While tongues may pour saliva that pitches darkness

Through ink, find illumination

Choosing hence to seek and become a lamp…

 

Akeem Oyalowo

April 11, 2017.

 

 

 

 

 

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