This Pain too shall pass

This hurt that grips and quakes
And swirls your being,
The orgasm of nine moons and
Many lethargic mornings and
Evenings pathognomonic of pica
Shall not go without saying.

As mother earth unfurls her palms to
Relieve you of your burden
Of joy, this organic almond shall trash
About reluctant, as always lachrymose.

Your knees and knuckles shall clench
As pain takes its first bite.
Your back shall know a bed
But no peace.
Your mouth and other orifices shall
Become harmonicas of dis-cord-dance.

It's no matter that you are

Inducted by a transition
With tears, blood, tear and more blood
As dues, liberations trickling
Down the antiseptic terrazzo.
A belch meets a first cry.

And it shall come to pass.

Copyright © 2009 Damilola Ajayi

Numb
For Deji Osunkeyede

Where is my pain?
That which bore my soul,
When news tolled déjà vu’s demise
Dreams dying at twilight
Void engulfing bright light

Where is my pain?
The bitter aftertaste of victory
A clammy feel of death’s grasp
The stump from dread’s axe
After a strike so apt

Where is my pain?
Rivers of tears flow,
Destiny dealt a dire blow
Death, the hideous executioner,
Snatched morrow’s millionaire

Though primary intentions absolve scars,
Sutures emotional ulcers,
Leaves with us dear mere memories
But still I ask where is my pain?

Copyright © 2009 Damilola Ajayi

O.D.L.T

Two a.m.
The last of the partiers gone
Left behind a vulnerable vault
Caressed by the dawn’s gust—
Cold windy missiles…

Students.
Dregs of Book enthusiasts,
Or rather exam faithfuls,
Clad in fabricated shrouds,
Hands buried in bodies,
Bodies buried in books...

Morpheus.
Inevitable nocturnal guest,
Dropping eyelids,
Christens an unabated arrival,
Yawn and stretch,
Somatic acquiescence,
A lost battle,
We nonetheless fight.

Copyright © 2009 Damilola Ajayi