KNAVISH GORGE

I asked how much she thought she knew me on a scale of one to ten;

given that I myself had pegged this number around at least an eight,

but she replied sometimes a seven, but honestly a meagre five,

as though I were asking how much she thought I knew about her.

Even if it were the case, a figure of three would’ve been a stretch,

It’s fascinating how guilt would make humans undercompensate one’s efforts;

only to shield themselves from their own apparent dodgy deeds,

all in a bid to cleanse them of any blame.

A girl whom I had conversed with for no longer than three weeks;

had given a shockingly different response to hold the former statistic in disrepute,

confessing to knowing about seventy percent of who I was,

and owning up to revealing an enormous ten percent of herself.

Of course, I expected this girl to give a measly figure,

how else could she possibly underplay my endeavours toward her,

for in times of anguish and loneliness, like the sun I always provided warmth,

but I had received no such embrace but affectionate shrugs.

She said our many spells of shared laughter were no proof of true acquaintance,

despite the fact, we had known each other for approximately two years,

once again bringing to question what my friendship ever was,

maybe merely a dose of veiled smiles and hours of idle chatter birthed by convenience.

And then she signed her murderous note with a dash of political correctness,

sprinkling a teaspoon of false appreciation to quell the flames of pain in my heart,

to hurriedly quench the thirst of my soul for an earthly companion,

teaching me never to gift compassion to an abyss that swalloweth good intent.

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017

HADRIAN’S GATE

You were like a beacon raised for all to see;

adorned in majestic marbles far smoother than silk.

The witless intelligence of his young your begetter did not foresee,

giving no regard to your health, for they were an unruly ilk.

The Lord breathed a flawless gust into man's nostril,

yet he exhaled a hellish miasma into heaven.

Now the clouds become an inflated brothel,

brightly lit by darkness like that fashioned by Solon.

From the sky's injured throat comes violent flashes and squalls;

and down falls a legion of rain attacking thy precious face.

Your erstwhile lofty robe now blackened and corroding stoles,

the soil on which you scarcely stand is neither spared nor given salience.

Once a symbol of celebration and limitless gratitude,

now reduced to a corpse of human benevolence to which I now allude.

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017

O DEAR MENTOR

Though I know aging is inevitable,

my mind rejects this vexatious truth.

Life's mysterious deeds are unquestionable,

even as it unjustly cribs one's youth.

Your beautiful nature possesses my heart in a sprightly dance,

of which all I wish I could part unto you.

Time has confined me to her deceptive manse,

proclaiming to me your complaint is but a flu.

The thoughts of my heart pray you sweet health,

and my abiding fondness keeps my hope alive.

O dear mentor do regain your strength,

this I pray you conscientiously strive.

Know within thy core I stay with you in spirit,

not only every second, but every passing earthly minute. 

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017

BIRTH

The dawn came not with light but darkness,
for heaven delivered me unto the bosom of the peccable.
I bathed in the Acheron under their shadows,
bequeathing me a muddled state, wondering if kindness merited such requital.

A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow,
yet my own torment transcended this unsurpassed anguish.
In persecution, my palms were pierced by envy's spiteful arrow,
hanging loosely by the cloak of pride in continued languish.

In my ailing cot, I wrestled tempestuous pangs,
rocking my hull in a hot-tempered routine.
But the Lamb steered me towards comforting plains,
with the devoted care from the elements unseen.

For as the maiden screams whilst in Labour,
after her hour, she remembereth no more for joy turns tears to vapour.

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017

First published by HEBE poetry magazine, United Kingdom. 1st July, 2017.

WORLDLY MARKET

I stared into the great blue sky,
glaring at the expanse of heaven.
And there appeared a place hidden to the human eye,
I floated on high toward this alien dwelling.

The puissant inhabitants of Earth flooded the city,
all seeking a similar commodity of trade.
For this reason the market was remarkably busy,
and the goods they purchased left me afraid.

Stall owners peddled not in locust beans but leprosy,
and women dressed in gold robes littered the marketplace;
haggling over the price of a relative's destiny,
with the winds carrying requests of a reasonable bargain.

The clouds darkened, and I wondered what this could portend,
I then saw a calabash bearing my fortunes, purchased by my devoted friend.

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John -  2017

PERFIDY

O my fair maiden!

Why hast thou poisoned me so

for thy vile lover?

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017

DEAR ESTHER

Dear Esther,
I write to you this unholy hour,
with candlelight dwindling, my idle hand I bestir,
and the depths of my heart I devotedly scour.
My love for you refuses to forsake me,
yet my devoted core hardens at the image of your eyes.
Inordinate is my affection toward thee,
it dwarfs the enormity of the seas of Marseille.
Wax drools from the cierges mouth,
indicating my retiring hour draweth near.
Erratically I wish to conclude this twelvemonth peace drouth,
but to acquit thy indiscretions I remain unsur...

Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017