AUTUMNAL BLUES

AUTUMNAL BLUES

Amidst fields of sparse boughs,

Sat she,bedecked in satin robe,

Mourning the death of her son--

A grandee of grandiose acumen.

Lo!her mind brawls all of dismay,

For nostalgic notions in her soar,

Stirring her being in vile tandem.

Her aura is now a vocalist of dirges.

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SIR SOLOMON

SIR SOLOMON

Lust at the sight of

wrestling behinds,pouting breasts,

in a cathedral is lust nevertheless.

No spiritual aura

cleanses the condiment of this craving.

Not one.

For orgasms are meant for all

& hormones are little devils that refuses

to dance to sermons of being "born-again".

By Ajise Vincent

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REDEMPTION

 

                                  REDEMPTION

Historical hopes falling off Jericho's wall

Bitter arts trampled upon by fates of null

Yesteryear yearnings might have had apt fears

But like dust which to milky cloud veers

Your dreams would in time soar to life's sweet hall.

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