IT IS TWELVE

IT IS TWELVE

IT IS TWELVE…

It is twelve

And the day is at crossroads;

Evening wrestles night

For the rights of time

 

It is twelve

And it is a new day

This day begins its day yawning

A hundred loads

Loom on its discourteous sun

Its face, dyed with uncertainty

Deep rooted in fantasies

And doctored memories

 

It is 12:00am, Good morning!

It is 12:00am, Good morning!

It is twelve,

Bath-supplications compete at crossroads

It is twelve

And it could birth anything;

They were twelve,

Clustered at their master’s feet

At the sound of jiggling coins

One thought of Wall Street

And boarded the next train

Does it matter?

If it were a day or people?

It was twelve in June…

They faulted the people’s wish

And dug a thousand graves

 

Bio

‘Gbenga Adeoba is a lover of words. His poems have appeared in Sankofa LitMag, Bukrepublik and elsewhere.

 

VISTA

VISTA

VISTA

I think dreams find us because we are young

And free like this air around us

For I often wonder

How dreams, wings detached

And nestling in our sprightly nest,

Soon grow plumages and join the flight into age

Somewhere under this same sky

And a full moon

Announcing the passage of many seasons

An aged prodigal also wonders

How quickly time leaps, how quickly

Dreams shed their plumages in flight

 

Dreams hanging in space

Dreams hanging in space

Adeoba Gbenga

 

 

 

 

About the Author

‘Gbenga Adeoba is a lover of words. His poems have appeared in Sankofa LitMag, Bukrepublik and elsewhere.

 

 

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