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| Oko Owi Ocho |
I lost you in tickles
Of six hundred seconds ago
My soul danced away from
Your music and lived in orchard
Of alien dance steps
Your drum can't beat to
Of six hundred seconds ago
My soul danced away from
Your music and lived in orchard
Of alien dance steps
Your drum can't beat to
If
We
Could
Have
Lovewalked
On the pavement with fingers
Stringed to each other's has become
Fascination of 'We could had'
But such imagination is lyric of
Six
Hundred
Seconds
Past
Ago
You could have been the heal
To my love's ill, the only
Cure that unshackles my heart from
The anguish fever of emotions... But
Those are distant imageries woven by
An amateur poet growing poetrylessly
Days and months worked with
Cutlasses and hoes to heap you
In my heart but how strong
Seconds could be in reaping out
Your yet-to-be
Ripe seeds
Flushed into
Echoes of----a
Distant past
Where my eyes would not blink to
Sleep nor my thought stops a second
To linger in thought of you
Ancient serene echoes of your laughter
All have been noosed in death den
Of
Yester
Minute
History
When thoughts of you dangles breathless
Six hundred seconds ago
The day walked away for
The noble accepted show
Of night
Now
There is a black out of you
In just ten minutes.
©2015.09.28
Oko Owi Ocho
Oko Owi Ocho is a poet, playwright, novelist, and a PanAfricanist. Also a member of Aj House Of Poetry.
We
Could
Have
Lovewalked
On the pavement with fingers
Stringed to each other's has become
Fascination of 'We could had'
But such imagination is lyric of
Six
Hundred
Seconds
Past
Ago
You could have been the heal
To my love's ill, the only
Cure that unshackles my heart from
The anguish fever of emotions... But
Those are distant imageries woven by
An amateur poet growing poetrylessly
Days and months worked with
Cutlasses and hoes to heap you
In my heart but how strong
Seconds could be in reaping out
Your yet-to-be
Ripe seeds
Flushed into
Echoes of----a
Distant past
Where my eyes would not blink to
Sleep nor my thought stops a second
To linger in thought of you
Ancient serene echoes of your laughter
All have been noosed in death den
Of
Yester
Minute
History
When thoughts of you dangles breathless
Six hundred seconds ago
The day walked away for
The noble accepted show
Of night
Now
There is a black out of you
In just ten minutes.
©2015.09.28
Oko Owi Ocho
Oko Owi Ocho is a poet, playwright, novelist, and a PanAfricanist. Also a member of Aj House Of Poetry.
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