¿quién Sabe Su Nombre? (Ars Poetica)

I saw him in my dream
Or my dream saw him.
Girded in instructions,
Sitting opposite as a timed
adder. Listening to my glottis
spray, enchanting words elating
his heart and whipping his ear.
Diverse heads held many heads:
Head with debt and some deposited death.
Sat i with him in closure,
Pushing my lips forward for enclouse:
'I'm a poet', and all of that i've said.
But was veiled yet to me that he had a news.
For so long had i been loquacious,
He pushed forth his words: tentatively audacious.
And like the purposed wind flew.
His product did my brain told me audibly,
But when my eyes untrust themselves,
My brain seemed mute.
He'd said: 'Their is a female poet in hebrew
Her name is 'monume? '.
I'm i sure i got the name.
Even there lies the mistake.
Just returned from hoping around the air,
And the air refused to bear the burden faithfully.
Or you know the name:
That poet of strangling fame?
Ho me, if thou do,
Maybe she's hidden by her variant skill.
Or nature pleaded to have her in her bossom.
'Monume? '
18: 01: 11: 06: 07

by Adeyemi Joshua

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