Like the wheels on my first tricycle
I am broken
Used and worn as my rustic soul sits
Beside the growing weeds
At my parents house
I watch you waste away over the years
Growing tired
Blood red peels from your core
Scattered around for all to see
Maybe one day I'll return
To find you've moved on
From those sun striken rays
Pumbling your existence
And hopefully it gives me the strength
To move foreward as well
And understand that the past
So beautiful and joyous to the senses
But Nothing will put me on the wheels
Of that lonesome bike ever again

I've been waiting.... to wake up
           From a Ďream
Or from real i t y
                                    Or somewHere       In be
tween
               As              a shade
Cascading further into the darkness
Where   structure               Has.    no meaning
Colors no light
             And my    Life
                                           No resolve           for
      the restlesš

STUBBORN MEMORIES
.
I keep fading into the memories of yesterday
I keep feeling the movements of your shadow in my heart
As I sit here on the bench of hope that they will fade away
But am broken, just at the thought of you
.
I keep trumping through the forest of memories
I keep staring at the empty chair in my heart
As I sit here watching your images play on my mind
Like kids on rollercoasters
But am falling far beyond time
.
Stubborn memories that conquer the arms of time
Grow in me like tumor.
You were the poetic lines I could not complete
You were dream I woke up from too soon
And the priceless pearl I could not keep
.
Drunk poet

i.

drunken in my pockets,
the day whispers to the trees that
pin to you, albatross
of a wind-swept sea loosening
feathers and heart-beats in
short, death-caught seconds.

ii.

gorgeous girl of height,
your caves are bright mysteries
your light an elephant's graveyard
of grey.

iii.

bitter note of earth,
you anchor birth
to our eye sockets, unwrap
mint and honey from the hills.

iv.

uneasy mistress,
dark daughter of sight,
sunk into all the corners of the world
you break like string,
you break and i break with you.



v.

vignette of ivy-coloured dreams,
sunny trail, you break my heart and
glue it back, sigh and sigh like a viking raider
conjured out of porcelain
and rose-water.

vi.

warrior of distant planes,
dense harbour of a lonely city,
landscape of water, unravelled
in an instant, a velvet
ribbon tied into a bow.

I know you wield the beauty of flowers
And sweet scent of roses you emit.
Yes, you dwell in a city called love,
In a region we call emotion
... But please tell me, who are you?

Your eulogy has no end,
And your praises know no limits.
For your "ode" is someone else's "elegy".
Sometimes you bring tears, sometimes smiles
... But please tell me, who are you?

When will you visit me?
At my dusk or my dawn?
Today or tomorrow?
No need be, I beg of you
For my eyes are unworthy to behold your beauty
... But please tell me, who are you?

She replied me and said
I  wield the Beauty of  black roses
The madness in hearts of men I am
I  wear prettiness, but a monster I am!
And tears is my signature!
For I am pain!
.
Balogun Tolulope David
(Drunk poet) 2017