Rite Of Passage Poem by Olalekan Joseph Ajayi

Tonight I enter the forest of words
The moon a lamp unto my naive feet
Like the prophets of old I bear no sword
Just calabash of ink and famished sheet

I hear harsh clichés from nocturnal birds
Seeking to drown the voice of the songbird
The stagnant river smells of putrid fish
The trees at its banks shed leaves of anguish

From the cacophony came thunder's voice
Only worthy tongues get to the whetstone
Only circumcised hearts embrace the Muse
Only truth bearers etch their names on stones

The poet's journey is one of solitude
Laughters and sorrows of a million souls
To be delivered in great altitude
Cling unto me like flies to open sores

Like a madman at war with strange voices
Voices in my head battle for my tongue
They bid speak, write in measured verses
For my words are untainted to fight wrongs

My parched tongue and empty bowels mock me
The scroll shall be bread and the ink my drink
My eyes have seen the book that makes me free
A messenger, my voice shall curse this stink

Tomorrow, I emerge from the forest
A valiant initiate of the Poets' court
With my free verses and blend of new forms
I shall better the art of poetasters