When the sun fades into the dark-dyed cloud
And the world bows at the feet of darkness,
I come with my flame-covered cloak
To dress the night of few.
The oil kisses my lips for me to live
And causes me to climax into fire.
I twirl to the anger of the gruff breeze,
But die immediately the oil retires its lips.
The oil resuscitates me, and I live again,
I live to spread my hands on the chest of the night.
I’m useless without the oil,
And without it, I dim in shame.
How can a man see when his mind lacks oil,
When the oil which was to fuel it
Keeps drooping on the stares of his ego
And then lays him in the grave of ignorance.
Is the world not blind,
To tag the sightless man as ‘blind,’
But leaves the visionless man with his impairment
Which draws him nigh his grave?
I am a lamp, and poetry is my oil.
I climax into fire each time we kiss;
A potent fire that only burns in the mouth, and on paper,
And with it, I glow in the dark.
Post image by Art Gallery ErgsArt – by ErgSap via Flickr
About the Author:
Ayinla Olawale Joseph, aka Wale Ayinla is an indigene of Ogun State, Nigeria. He is an undergraduate Mass Communication student of The Moshood Abiola Polytechnic. He is known for his equivocal command of the English language. He has written four plays which haven’t seen the floor of a stage nor the pages of a book. His written poems are innumerable, making him to be one of the greatest writer of the 21st century you would love to keep on your radar.