DEAD POETIC

The cemetery and its prodigious appetite, shall entombe my bones under shrine heavy stones. But these writings I’m writing, en’ these readings thou art reading, shall dare the theory of mortality, en’ survive the spirit of the black African poet

So gather together
o’ poetic poets
en’ prophetic prophets
to read the readings
of these writings we writing

Obeisance to the noice of the African voice that enjoys to witness the joys of a live audience. Obedience to the pen that bleeds ink, en’ to the head that thinks. Compliance to the hand that dances to the rhythm of the heart, in scripting of art

So gather together
o’ sentimental sentimentalists
en’ romantic romantics
to express in expressions
this feeling we feeling

We are craved by the grave for our brave trials. But before I submit, I shall develop my territory to a purity beyond a word, for I am the poetry of the world…