Bone Of My Flesh Poem by ABAYOMI OGUNNIYI

Blown in the middle of the
dust.
Driven to the noise of the
coast.
To the tears i bleed thorns to
the veil of my skin.
Clumsy are the shadow of my
thought.

Dark are the reaction in the
smiling mind of vain and blunt
thoughts.
To the sheaves i speak, to the
leaves i submit for the
resurrection of the skin.

To the birds composed verses
of the winds,
Verses i spread in the midst of
beast.

I sing among the choirs of
the hills,
To the bands of the winds and
instrument of the weather are
streaming rhythm of the air.

The whistle of cloud in the
music of the stars.
The atmosphere laid to the
wonderful beds of shame;
sleeping beneath the sheet
of shame and dismay.

Blown within the cave of
my ribs, the beautiful wave
of the soul.

Her braids the distraction in
the weaves of the birds.
Curves beneath the shape of
a burning ocean.
Air to my gloomy wind,
Attractive waters ripped the
fire to shadows.

Beautiful fruits of character,
the subject of satisfaction to
the soul.
Charming voice of the wind,
screaming torture of the dust.
The first book to serve and
the last script to submit in the
stage of love.

WRITTEN BY ABAYOMI OGUNNIYI —