Saturday, January 9, 2016

Three Poems by Ajise Vincent

The Transaction

Tonight, I roam that hamlet--sodom
Where nemeses render testimonies,
Pay tithes of froths to fleshy pendulums
So they can become pillars of salt

That hamlet where dogs with grandiose appetites
Humble their loins; make transactions;
like monopolies, sometimes duopolies
Expecting profits of bones in the long run

These dogs are not chihuahuas, neither are they beagles
They are bulldogs, rottweilers; perhaps Alsatian
With swaying bulky mouths and dangling drums
That overflow with sugary sperm

These dogs are not pawns--subtle mesomorphies
For their reprisal to auctions are made by monetary snips
Snips which undress their emotions--au natural
Making them a curvature potent
That releases a feuding watery tsunami
To catalyze the bitter-sweet pang

After some iced champagne and chicken wings
And dreams of black angels--demonic delusions
Supplier receives cash; Equilibrium is attained

Dirge of a Fiance

tonight, I have come to declare my doubts
as a dirge, on that road where applause
mates with squiggling bones
to procreate embryos of foreverafter

that road where bald seers
count beads, chant incantations,
spit on sincere resolutions
just to ransack the past and peep into the offing

sincerely, I am being beaten by worry
I am also drowning in the ecstasy of confusion
for I don't know if the black water that screens
can still reflect the image of truth

you liken my love to a tamed python
that engulfs your conscience to bask in innocence
yet you still stare at Asabi* bulbous hips
that wriggle as she sashays

you said you have chewed off your past of infidelity
and spat it to the swaying dust
to convey it to oblivion
yet the white man rubber still dances in your pocket

I have watched you drink from the gourd of lust
and gesticulated in your drunkenness
throwing jibes at my commitment
which pierces every marrow of my fondness

listen, I am bleeding out pints of foul pains
which make my health an aura of indiraction
I doubt if my dwindling esteem can walk down the aisle
for you are just a drunken whoremonger

*One of select birth


"Fools" might measure your resistance to "lust"
through the ohmmeter of pride
They might see your conductance with solitude
As defiling "kohlrausch" law of concentration

Some might e'en call you the disgruntled husband,
Of Mr.s Malaprop
Whose cerebral elecrtolytes
Needs electrical brain stimulations

Ay! do not be weary
For life is an aberration from the law of physics
Here, like poles don't repel
And unlike poles ne'er conjugate

Ajise Vincent is an undergraduate of economics at a prestigious university in Nigeria who sees poetry as a medium to express both the tranquility and turmoil of the mind.  He hopes to use poetry as a tool to impact morals and bring back the good old days of propriety.

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