The fountain Arena

Yesterday we bade July farewell After a long thirty and one days of cleansing Now you are here with us  Looking gallant and feeble  Cooling our lips with your freezy smile Even the water splashes you threw smoothen Our thirsty soil whose pant causes fame Sit oh sit, dear August and soak our feet with bliss  Of melodious Folk comfort with rest and peace  Seized under your chilled fount  Until the passing of the new month Calling gate of perfect symphony our guest Hold with you first fall And second trickling by ripe solo In third feast of heat and chimney And five decor of blue skin Hovering around the earth above Taiwo Ayeni ©2022 Read also Dyslexiod Brief analysis ... When a new month appears, there is always a prayer we make in our silence corner.  And that is, "this new month should be better than the later".   The content of this short read isn't far from this prayer, as the poet tries to plead with the new month (August) to with hold the harshness of the previous mon

The free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. Read other poetry from this blo

Waiting for a marathon quest; Feasting on every page gallery; Holding up to the wandering gaze  In ecstatic pleasures. Wanting nothing but wit  In its purely refined form undilute. Yet, it all seems like stargazing Forgetfulness another gazing   Guest we've welcomed quietly Even solid relics are now antics I read; you read; we've burnt the night adroitly, When our eyelashes clap tirelessly before resting. How, how can we sail on our utopic cosmos ? How, how can we? How can we manoeuvre our errors quest, When all pathways are made of steel maze; When our sensory power house suffocates, Bleeding floods to cool its tensed nerves. How can we, you unruly child? Now, Let's hold hands no more,  As your romantic journey ends with me. Forgive our unborn treasure Whose pride I've hoped to guide privily From your seductive gaze Till you die in desolate . Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read  Previous post  from same poet. Next post Photo credit: pexel

 My lamp of love burns for you; thou host of morning shine. who satisfy all flesh a new  giving love in exchange for pew. you are Yeshua, my friend and king Yeshua, thou sagacious king of men  comfort my spirit; soul; and death in that mansion soiled with breath  that speaks symphony and fun mighty Yeshua, my friend and king  Melt my spirit today and forever.  lighten my suffering heart in that voices of yours salute my nothingness in  grace and service listen not to my mundane plead when it comes  oh! my Yeshua, my friend and king. Ayeni Taiwo  ©2022 Read weather for Two Next post Image by pexel

The Antarctic guest bangs my doorpost  Icy air, frozen breath, skinny wet. Gaining mountainous feet  Before bolting in for a bodily rite Sipping every comfort in freezy bite Her coming whiffs sold my warmth For magic soul match washed forth Of a meekly birth As my famished skin seek a companion A solid soul in melting union Now, thou unknown warrior of first sight See-through wishes this night Find me a courageous knight  Fit enough to shelter my weary feet On Whose arm ameliorate my prolific seat. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022.   Previous post Photo by pexel next pos t Footnote:Read The night rain has fallen and the weather folds its warmth homeward. I can't shield my lonely skin alone; I need a companion.

The panic of geminating age Angers the mounting desired sage Of bittersweet years swum On the facade of earth waters Filling every benchmark of missed trophies. The taste of primitive success hops  ceaselessly, Flouting the worldly pen Standard in light of favoured tropes making the soft momma's cheek drenched As I drink from her endless eulogies; Papa's thumb hit the soft spot The little red ink stained my bed  With sorrowful pun of happy and sad Motion the dripping tears watered The earth milk villa, enjoying each drop Until the morning light set up Swallowing the mist feast for a level pop. Age clocks struck 12 filled with dreams  It strode towards 16 fishing the world tales  Then at 19 basking the profile of the status  Till 20 came with test and service  Now the restless tick-tock beats the 22 chimes Recounting season and times. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read other exciting poem from the same poet here View Previous post

We have hosted men of delight  With hands of gold and  adroit Colossal heads of invented saint And company of sinister fellow Our day has sucked the night And the night swallowed by the sun Speaking of the Sodom myth seat  Laying ego of flagged song Yester amelioration shed our pants Now, we don't dream of our nirvana seas Now, we are beaten by your plague Not anymore you foster child of vanity  We've  grown wings  Our heart has received suits  We now ride in ceaseless praise We've set sail for a new eternity Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read also Life  At 22 Photo by pexel Previous post

  Words made Lillie's ornament For your blessed feet monument Tinkles sounds of joy forte Dancing on every soul and moon  For your enigmatic fame You are sculpted by Him  Your soul maker, birth in his prime Favoured beyond mirror chime For on your lips he adores sweets name As sets of record wit.  Why not smile a bit  And make the moon bite and sit The night darkness shine Paving ways for fantasy lite A word architect, rider of truth You are a damsel of light with Virtues far beyond space and earth She is a she-lord and woman of pious wealth. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 For Christian ...🤗 Photo credit: pexel Read sorry earth . Previous post  

  A fortress we are made; Through the mounting praise  We have raised To the triune canonical lord. Whose hands have raised our lives. By one man we are beaten  By another, we have risen  In his heart, he lifts the unsound soul Fasten to the boundless pit again  At a priceless sinner prided pain. Soft and slowly; mundane and strong, Solo and brass, chord and string; The heart that's bruised is here to sing, New worship, of a new age. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read: Other poems from this blog Previous post Photo credit: pixebay

Photo source: pixel.com It arrives as the babel rebirth Dreaming higher and stronger For a resourceful teller Offering your lust to our Hypothesized hope gauger Mounting upon hills as its frivolity pathway For the lost worker we blend with On the hope that our heart will merry  Across the deserted stars  And the bloody moons amidst blind sky  Shaped by the movement of the restless cloud Sketching tales of unknown folklore As our wandering eyes dwells sail Awaiting her handsomest bride Holding all heads on to the lark crest As we sail gentle into your days water Looping in your grandeurs and Utopic breath Calling from times immemorial  Till today's of memory craft Come swiftly, shine more thou lonely sojourner. You You native sailor of unknown, drive freely along the green skies  to lead our hunted desire in its own forthcoming dinner glamours. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read more: other poem from this blog Previous post Image credit: pexel

Our souls wake on a Sunday morn Budding up with its maker con The bell chime in a crescendo Saying a cryptic psalm in piano Of hymn or a solo lines Making my Sunday morn merriments. We pam the word on a Sunday morn Daring the sun to play the pipe  Bouncing in places in symphony Blending the Clergy lyric with the pipe Piping a sonorous phone I won't ask my maker money on a Sunday morn For I saw his angel on this dawn With forty frosty miles bands of lost directors Swapping notes in melodious rhymes As we chants the Sunday morn ode Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read:  other poetry from this blog Previous post Photo credit: pexel

  As the dark night dim my soul ride in a wet  celestial canoe. sailing deeply on,  awaiting the morn of my funeral. I have leap a thousand times  for the day of my demised  which, reached sooner,  as autumn wind. deliberately piercing my nude skin now it's dawn, my lifeless creature lay still in world most adore ornaments. epithet that soar in a passer-by  lazy consciousness wit, commune "world of Fortune has he dwell, mundane guest of mercy gain birth " beyond, a golden silhouette spoke. "have the world prime  yielding endless starts still holds you?" morn of departure still lingers how should it be this morn? why would this brusque knave  ameliorate me in my hope valley? where would my  weeping senile lady  weary hand holds now soul journey began where the paths leads is yet unknown but my saint testament guide me on. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Click here to view next post Read: Lucid Photo credit: pexel

  The days of naivity dissipate as soul eclipse offers a new shine for an hunted soul vengeance like a torrent of a blind rain whose staff found shelter in race now the pants of truth torment our lies sending furore shivering endlessly to our desolate soul of a lost monastery molesting the company of ego in exchange of a funfair at parrot feast once, our lost act suffers clamour  for a debt settled lost we offered plain and wavy banters leftover unfolding past of courting deceit loosing self for a clearer lift and now, the joy of knowing embraces  our mesmerized soul to stupor and the imperial lids gain its sight In a cosmos sail. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read: Other poems from this blog previous post   Photo by pexel

  Front page has recorded our names. Calling on every ages and sames; Even our hunted males . For monthly food lames. We've been served fat, Rich in wealth of mucor and salt, Garnished for their gluttonous fill Not a game but for fame. Ghosting our daily bread  In exchange for famished tears  Covering the ground in rain ing fears  Our cold heart seeks of a restorer of years We are their scorn, The scorn is disgust, The disgust is employed, The employed is paid, The paid becomes their prey. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Previous post  Click here to read other poems from the same author previous post  Photo credit: pexel

The light is darken  Sending blind chill around  As the waking rain harken It's cool morning wash Cleaning every swollen face  In a future call Forgetting every past seasons Waiting as the coming of harvest We unloads our burden birth Ayeni Taiwo ©2022   Read next poetry  from Ayeni Taiwo  Photo credit: pexel Read previous post  

The sky rose to meet me courtesy of furnished hope  hanging above in  mer'ment slope on a new found shelter  memes of delight has gladiates  the forgotten Sue fortunes genes full of ravishing stars  before the folk diets replete of curiosity bargain  as we feast the night again I search the stars tentacle for leads to my lost nirvana but in my dubiety I heard the sky symphony uttering the bounty of the day phony Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Photo credit: pexel Now  Read more  poetry from this poet View previous post

the springs of doubt pants  aloud in my forgotten itches  causing every moist skins weeps for miscreant fames scenes the scorching pain has founds Einstein tools  taking merry for bitter funeral  in a cluster thought of thought  bubbling up  amidst saving cage of freedom weak cells saves no room to wisdom one time it stops  another times it rains  clearing all tracts  as we walk the life paths. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read  next post Previous post  Photo credit : pexel

bone of spoken birth natured in a morning scent monk of unusual set sought to make a cool breathe to sustain shaky winking sight. selah! a voice I heard In the modern hunt accused an aftermath hazy sage court  spoken by a young burly cot tied for a clashing whites nail of the mouth court Selah! why this cot? why not a heritage lot? why Joseph flee learned? when hills are mounts and mount are hills we long for each other's embrace As the brotherhood bone speaks again. strings of my root unclad  from world savagery band be mine and I forever be glad. Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read next post Photo credit: pexel Previous post

If words were stars, I will gently pick the brightest to tell your eternal truth far beyond space up to the holiest  adoring your righteous lips with roses. If words were stars, time and space will skip at every galaxy; every sea surrounding breathes with ease pent up laudation tossed down gracefully If words were stars, and on every lips that speaks  and on every word that leaps  On that fortune crest resides forever Will your saturated courage be known  Ayeni Taiwo ©2022 Read more  to view other poems from this blog. view previous post   Photo credit:Indian express

Above life mist unfold more wit  cultivating cultural sweet in diverse dreams and seat. Eureka! I'm a seer mate. at a strangle breath  lies in wait  motionless tunnels light , blinding the foster site confessed beneath a truthful hate. Eureka!  I'm a seer mate. the joy of knowing pleasance the troubled sea sending  peaceful chilling across all surviving tree. Eureka! I'm a seer mate. I have set the caged bird flying;  my savory recipes on sight  with all joyous company singing, the sluggish worm has grown might. Eureka! I'm a seer mate. Ayeni Taiwo  ©2022 Next post  Read previous post Photo credit: medicalnewstoday