The Itinerant Poet

[Araba]

Golden Leaves of Fall
It's fall. That season after summer.
Green Leaves, brown leaves, you need hot water.
Dancing Leaves, golden leaves on a windy day
Halloween wear, vampires scare, its candy day.

Leaves rustle, wind hustles, no time to fumble.
Play football, keep running, don't knock your hustle.
Soon kids will come asking for candy in the cold
None will leave till they feel happy, leaving bold.

Trick or treat, the kids will ask
Candy to give and not a jot
Why now during autumn, Why not another season
Why not during summer, when I give for a reason

Costume parties, scary movies
None of them, tickles my fancy
And so I wait, when it gets colder
For that Turkey to get slaughtered.

[anwulika]

Nice! Very nice flow to your poem.

Fall...the best season of all for me! Love the holidays, the weather, the colors of the leaves and of course, fall fashion

Knee high boots, ankle boots, scarves, berets, cute leather jackets, tweed jackets, Cashmere sweaters, denim, tights...

Favorite season for women's fashion IMO

I just love it!

[Iye]

Araba is that an excerpt from your new book?

Welcome back!!!

[Araba]

Nice! Very nice flow to your poem.

Fall...the best season of all for me! Love the holidays, the weather, the colors of the leaves and of course, fall fashion

Knee high boots, ankle boots, scarves, berets, cute leather jackets, tweed jackets, Cashmere sweaters, denim, tights...

Favorite season for women's fashion IMO

I just love it!

Thanks Anwulika for the positive critique of my poem. I would once in a while post more (hoping Oga Admin and owners of the site don't get bored). I love fall too. My worst season is summer. You know those of us that grew up in Nigeria now. After living with so much humid heat. See me snuggle in winter only to recoil in spring enjoying the cold. And then comes summer to spoil all the fun. I think I might end up living in Barrow, Alaska.
You have a tasty sense for fashion.

Araba is that an excerpt from your new book?

Welcome back!!!

My favorite Iye. You will have to give me a decade. This book writing thing is not a joke. I was just twiddling my thumbs, trying to role-play Le penseur de Rodin, thinking of the season and decided to post on my favorite web site. Thanks for the warm message.

[Araba]

Thirty Years Later

The walk down the pavement was familiar
The difference, it was thirty years after
Dotun leaving for Britain quite early
Dipo journeying for the Americas, yearning.

The laughter was sonorous
The moment infectious
Both remembered the theatre hall
And memories came back whole

You remember we hugged, Dipo asked
Dotun looked away askance
The walk continued, down a promenade that took a bend
Dotun's hastened steps, suggesting a walk with a bent

There were no phallic desires, Dipo continued
There was just a bulge all too natural
We were kids with all the innocence
So what happened to maternal desires?

[anwulika]

Thirty years later,
They still laugh together after 30 yrs.
They seem to have taken separate paths in life
but they are still friends after 30 years...

I love it.

[Araba]

Vincent
I am African, my roots deep in the motherland
Am American, my history deep in this land.
Who are you, journeying from whence I came
Look at you, darker than my shade.

Generations passed, many oceans crossed
Shackled in chains, stringed in a human train.
Working the plantations, bearing coffee and sugar
Living the existence befitting an outcast.

And yet we toiled, tilling the soil
From the coasts we came, bearing no name
Four Hundred years, scattered all over
Fifty years and we have Obama.

So who are you? From whence comest thou?
Ever heard of Jim Crow? They tried to beat me down.
Yet. You are back again, to start your trade
Rest.You will not prevail, I am not a slave.