Poem By Adeyemi Joshua

Do not fall in love with a poet:
Breakfast would be a couplet.

Lunch would bea quatrain:
Personified, pithy and prolix on metaphoric train.

Supper would be a sonnet:
Smithereens of oomphs, entangled in esurience'senmesh.

On the spousal sunshine,
He would sew suit of slant rhymes.

For how long he would last inbassinet:
Measured in Troche, dactyl, anaspetic or iambic pentameter.

Advice for the shavers and doxy:
Lofty metaphors Clothed in paradoxical antithesis.

Talk more of many other things,
Your home is hyperbole of poetry.
19: 05: 05: 13: 51

Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral piece. SOS

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Callous Harmattan Clutched

bounty body blushing
heaving hoisted hankering
under tainted touch
callous harmattan clutched


Poetry is like a hook that apprehends deflowered fishes with its varying wits. The hook is thrown into the ocean of the socitey and it caught informations that inspires the souls to keep writing. Poetry is a garment of many colours that no one is yet to distinguish the type of its colour he's putting on. It takes time, dedication and observation to ascertain the type because these are the regalia of poetry.

She is always on silk
Endowed in glittering stones.

Rusty Year Retiring

weary waves whooshing
hoisted horizons hankering
dark dances drooling
felon fate fostering

Bursting Busty Bruise

waning wits smirked
vying voluptuous verge
meagre mood metamorphose
saucy spell's sauce