₦airaland Forum

The topic is incorrectly posted. It had not been intended for this category. If however u dont have any problem with this, then go ahead and describe your street.

Most streets in Lagos make me sick. No attempt at cleanliness. Cables and wires hang like dysfunctional intestines,the drainages are choked, most residences are prefaced with shops selling petty articles.Let's describe our streets!

[center]
The beginning was quiet and tender.
Footfalls in frenetic patterns filled the streets
below, hunting for dreams
in the precarious orbit of breaking hours.

Limbs of assorted intent took dawn by the horn,
but I snuggled beneath the dragnet of awkward
blanket, peering lazily at numberless sprawling forms
on the streets below and away.

As dawn lurked around the darkly episodes
of previous hours, dreams hooted and screeched and clattered
on the furtive flange of fate, yet I remained immune to the
emerging images of the impending day.

I heard and felt all but lay still like a foetus
in an etiolated uterus. The hours heaved and
moved, but I was lodged in the pulsating
warmth of restful coverlet.

Through the apertures of my walls, the sun shot
its rays like lightning without the
accompanying rumbling. Then the morning
stirred like a convalescing
patient.

My eyes, sleep-infested now, were x-rayed as I huddled in the
thick sheet like a chick in a hatching frenzy,
but blindly I extorted a minute after
another from the charging rays!

In the end, one last dart like a stab prized my eyelids apart
to the difference in things. I tore through the fluffy
hours only to behold the morning streaking ahead
with its dawn-abiding lot at the crest of its maiden quests.[/center]

[center]With one eye
he took the last
pictures of this life
like a withering eclipse
hanging over a noble vision.
And then died.
That October day![/center]

Tianshie,
Don't mind us!We just rose and fell like waves of old, I have nothing about keeping a sense of regularity on Nairaland poetry-scape."Let's do this often", with pleasure.Thanks for compliments, you are no less for such, Who's Riri?I've flown off at a tangent?Think nothing of my curiosity!!

Tianshie,
Don't mind us!We just rose and fell like waves of old, I have nothing about keeping a sense of regularity on Nairaland poetry-scape."Let's do this often", with pleasure.Thanks for compliments, you are no less for such, Who's Riri?I've flown off at a tangent?Think nothing of my curiosity!!

Quite unlike me!!

I didn't expect you'd treat my comment with levity;though I've not sufficiently trained my sensibility for the mercurial character of mortal expectations,in this case i just scored a hit
In capsule, your rejoinder announces a single death in itself and not two in one, this is poetry where intentions easily get rebellious,you know!.Let's don't in any case evince our peculiarities and hope for some agreement, poetry is an exercise in subjective impressions.Yours offers a classic example!

The title of the entry whetted my appetite; I was however somewhat dispirited to find that  both the title and the body are set at variance.

[center]This breeze fetches familiar scent and strength.
It was this, the breeze, that caused my
separation from Rijau and, with it, one love
I owned just months ago.

It blows now as it blew then, throwing
dead leaves to lively heights as they betray envy
for the flying birds; and though leaves are in flight,
some are the butterfly, others are the
crow, those memories that breeze alone can bring
come in droves.[/center]

Your poem reveals the vestiges of disappointed expectations.Way to go.

Quite so, tianshie, 'straining at the leash'.Thanks for your comment.

Am tossed about in this ejaculation of emotions!

Quite the thing for a single experience.It's rich in imagery;what's more,it's somewhat reluctant

to release its meaning.Good enough!

[center]Breaking the Skin of Time


The meticulous minutes peel off
their skin to unveil the much prized
morning

Waiting has been unending,
winding through valleys of dreary
months and years.

At last the relentless seconds hound
the morbid hours, tapping out their swan-songs
on the cobbled home stretch.

What relief! Step out on the street, in the
early dew and dare the auguries
of the coming clime, 

The passing seconds crack nuts of time
in the silence of a new dawn, and after years
of waiting, of wasting but straining at the lease,
here I'm lacing
my old pair of shoes for a different
first time.[/center]