shades & colours… staccatos & fr a gm e n t s. . . punctuations & stops – difference(s) between existential life & nostalgic death – like thirst & orgasm. visions of catacombs & wishes…"portrait of a wo(man) mind –"
Bliss is the first time I left my father seated on the couch with a cup of consternation. I told him that life sometimes comes hedging us in the corner of our closet, and the best step to take is not to stand against it in a feud and fight for freedom. I told him it is dumb to fight when freedom is the same wiles that had ever slept with you. My father…"Bliss by ADEYEMO E.O"
It pierced through my eyes and brain. And there was a gimmick coloured in red lightening. And the welder of souls cannot hitch fragments of fire into a solid wreath like promises – the strong silence that first melted with thick spittle when we were boated by labials swimming through blood and water to the way it used to be – the same silence came with hands to flay off my innocence in a transaction…"Lacerations by ADEYEMO E.O"
Drown in those eyes swim their liquid depths, sing praises of her supple waist Lose yourself in honey at her lips… Today we stem the tide of words, w-a-i-t-i-n-g for the flutter of wings on eaves of the future, when we shall say to the storm – uncoil Not even time can tame the tales we have yet to tell There is a tale lurking in my eyes; its beginning is you, and its end…"A Poet in Love (For a girl I know by Olumofin Olasubomi"
love told me that the moon shines till dawn – that the bulb budding bright in spring onions will keep succulence till winter. love told me that all things were tulips and all days lacked a night. love kept me fused on the rays of nostalgia till my liver cringes for the heat of promises – the day i found love painted in the blues of my dreams, the same day my heart hit the…"what love did to me; a mesh of blue and lilac – ADEYEMO E.O"
Words will scamper in fragments like fingers intruding & seeking to hide under innocent underclothes… There would not be silence, because the heart would whine! Pleasure would mean a dance of duress. And when you ask what trope tamed a screaming script, you’d see that some protruding pen find their muse under sorrow, tears & blood – a pin punctures into the throat through skewered hymen & weeps in creamy waters that never satisfy. Not…"When Poets Chase the Wind by ADEYEMO E.O"
I know I am no man child. I move from home to home, from state to state in search for my daily bread. I lay my back on hard floors in the open and under the unkind fear that many lock themselves from at nights. I’ve become fear even to fear itself, because it has nothing to take from me. I’ve become a brother to hunger whose language I understand mostly. I’ve become a…"No Man Child by ARÍYÀYỌ̀SÍ"
the way that glowing lamps die in our hands like a rose for emily planted on a famished road punctures all promises that the sun will rise again. & like crimson in the skies, the hidden star that we seek to see turns dimmer than half of a yellow sun. here we are; meshed in dilapidated histories, jagged lacerations & a wonder-world nostalgia; as though in one hundred years of solitude. there was a…"untitled in the colour of the times by ADÉYẸMỌ E.O kàkàkíỌgbọ́n"
sometimes when it rains, we go out of space and time, we dream freely like babies in the comfort of their mothers’ arms; we believe again, we traverse the thin lines of our memories, joyous as lost chicks reunited with mother hens when it rains, we hear the world in pleasant cosmic reverberations; when it rains, we are so cold wildfires become our friends, clothing us against icing like hopeless creepers on sturdy…"In Rains By Taofeek Ògúnpérí"
Some songs are tempoed in mysteries— they sound like last breath of two hearts clamped together between nags & nostalgia. The curvy rhythms and the sounds of the night: this is the unit where the harp sings the loudest. And the wisdom that defies antonyms place peace against pleasure— Two hiking birds perch on a stream of unconsciousness. Tell me about the words that can’t be uttered— The muffled words of longing with every zephyr…"Portrait of the Female Body as a Mystery of Music: A Duet by ADEYEMO E.O & AGUNBIADE KEHINDE"