Memories Poem by Benjuzzy Okpuzor

The night stand as long as the day,
As I sat here up high in the memories
Of men,
Of thoughts of yesterday,

Of love lost, the ones I thought I had,
And the ones I lost, the ones I found,
And yet to find, the ones gone for good,
And yet to come,

They were all embers burning brightly
Forever in my heart,
I have felt the stench, and Sting's of
Love, i have fell in love with

Cleopatra; she who will not wed, but
Wet the bed's of kings, and blaze on them
At dawn, evil herodias she whose cup is
Filled with the blood of the

Innocent, yet they were all the days I bleed,
And blossom, the days of pain to gain,
And cheer, from the echoes of history I
Have seen the senile decay of

Time, and clime, I have seen the sons of
Pharaoh, and yet to meet Moses;
The days of joy turning ashes in the mouths
Of love;

Reincarnated revelation of doom, and gloom,
Dead mushes of blood moon, the cops of us All;
oh brothers from the womb of this heated hell,
And struggle, you who would rip the fruits of
Abel,

Listen to the voice of the victims crying
Beneath the painful plague of this poem;
Of a young poet, now muddied by drink,
And ferocious in;

Thoughts, for I have bread, and bed with
Brothers, and friends;
They who dine, and dwell with me,
But when they're done at the turn of the tide;

They sell me half the price Joseph was
Sold into slavery;
I know of the tongue who confessed,
And profuse love, but bury me for
Judas's little coins,

Yet they were all dark days with no red dawn,
But hope is a home, memory is love, yet
They too shall fade away like the days of the
Dinosaur.