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The Sky is a Spy: Poems by Adeola Ikuomola


The bungalows are built on the gallows
New corpses galore in the churchyards
The national impress for the citizenries
To compress our dreams in nightmares

Sneezing is a call to mouthful mourning
And the morticians are reformed clowns
Their guided claws sparkle like fireworks
To puncture more holes in our balloons

The crumbs have deserted the formats
Known to our quivering and cold hands
Now wedded to gravels from their clan
We tow them home with throaty tears

Patriotism is like a featherless song bird
In the fully orchestrated thunderstorms
Merit wanders like a motherless theory
With no genetic account with the norm



The sky is a spy
Standing on a watch tower
With a charming personality
And his overwhelming feelings
Spiced with consuming creativity

The sky is a spy
The king of a slippery ring
Reigning supreme in the clouds
Investigating the purchasing powers
Of the high-ranking handbag keepers

The sky is a spy
Operating in a grand style
In the blazing aerial high waves
Where skiers upon brighter clouds
Slide downhill to moon-rated victories

The sky is a spy
The detectives’ master key
For fact finding in the dark places
To burst the celebrated mythology
Interred in the deeply fortified forests

The sky is a spy
He has struck up the rain
And struck down the sunny appeal
And the strikebreaking muscular floods
Hum humbled hand-baggers home in chains



I cannot be a cat
Without a personal cart
To deliver the travailing rats
Into my barren maternity ward

I cannot be a cat
While my dearest rats
Soar aboard the flying mats
Mocking my deflated eyeballs

I am the belled cat
And wrongly branded fat
To resuscitate the dying rats
With my hunger generated ribcages

Farewell nutritious rats
My immortal airborne meal
Come down my balanced diet
Into my new waterlogged potholes



The night owes a booming room to the blooming moon
Where the travailing pilgrims seek for a delicate repose
There the palliative breeze blows forward from the east
To deck the dominant dormitories within the territories

Contentment is the ointment from the fairest continent
From the echoes of the fine faced future to their nature
To decline the damnable dams flowing into our domains
The dregs are the broken legs of peace pegged on a keg

A roaring but still small voice rippled the local mountains
The depressed sun suppressed her inexpressible surprise
At the glorious appearance of the moonlight mentorship
Of the orphaned occupants of the light ruined dark night

Then I sighted bottles of butter on the slippery highways
It is like the dawn dancing down from the morning dews
To supervise the birth and the death of another morning
For dreamers to congregate to relay their dream exploits



Foolishness is the power point of truthfulness
And truthfulness is liberation from foolishness
Better court perpetual bondage to truthfulness
Than freedom and liberty in foolish dispositions

Your love showcases my foolishness in the skies
I am made foolish to truthfulness for your heart
Your daybreak is my brake and no other morning
Generates the flourishing rays of love like you do

You are my monolithic monument in truth to own
Embalm me in the layers of your meaningful palm
Hold me captive and blindfold me with your heart
And deafen me to the voices of the huge hirelings

The youthful rays opened the doors for all mortals
To trudge round the clock city states in their quest
To capture the northern skies like the light in flight
But to you I am rebound in the bond of matrimony


(c) Adeola Ikuomola

Adeola Ikuomola
Adeola Ikuomola
Adeola Ikuomola is a Nigerian poet.

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