GENTLEMAN OF PANACHE

The moon will be abashed, the sun ashamed, If on such a day I fail to open my floodgates and scribble this confessional melody. Every morning, as mist is swept away and dawn is spread across the mountains, These mornings, her steps trample the ground in hurried fashion, Paces accustomed to vision and focus! From distant safeness, my gaze captures her frame swaying away like a hut in the wind, To where? I wonder! For sure dusk will find me in my usual post of watch, Awaiting the replenishing sight of she as she trods back. I speak of none but of a ship that secretly trades her wares in my waters of infatuation, All that swims the path of the seas of passion, in mine they desist, For she alone I let! This African W.O.M.A.N I so drool! Yet, the smile of a stone! Warmness by her is a dead valley, for she is an ice-queen! As heat is reduced by the shadow of a cloud, so the expressions of suitors her way are stilled by she! Even the islands in the sea are terrified at...

How good is a timely word? Dare I give a free rein to my complaint and speak out from the bitterness of my soul? Pour out my heart like water? I loathe my very love life, sadly! Tears are upon my cheeks, Streams of tears flow from my eyes and disappear into the doors of my mouth as water disappears from the sea or as a river bed becomes parched and dry. Out of the depths I hurt, My wound deep as the sea. Tho'ts of treasures that were mine in days of old, When heavens to me were no more but paradise was she. She bound me into a yoke of affection, By her hands was my heart woven She walled me in so that I could not escape. Her speech smooth as butter, Her words more soothing than oil, The scent of her blissful perfume lit fire into my bones. How can one not fix eyes on such a one? The eye cost a man what is most dear, A painful lesson learnt at a costly price, If weighed on the scales of right, my misdoings would outweigh the sand of the seas, But how can ...

My heart is stirred by a noble theme, not in part but in whole, as my tho'ts are ensnared by my verses, My fingers, the pen of a skilful writer, I proclaim my heart in the great assembly; I do not seal my lips, And share shall I my cup of lamentations! My soul is downcast within me, See how deserted lies this humble heart of mine, Once so full of youth, How like a widow she now be, Who once was jubilant! Joy is gone from my heart, My dancing has turned to mourning, Because of this, my beat is faint, And my light has long grown dim. The ear tests the words as the tongue tastes food, And listen keenly did I to every word she said; Am in disbelief, I may lack in many but wise I am in my own estimation. I am the man tho has suffered affliction by the rod of her wrath, Hers waves and breakers swept over me, Deep voices, too deep than the roar of waterfalls, 'sweeten' my night, Calm is no longer found, Bitterly I weep at night! I fear her affection will ...

Lost in the frenzy, had forgotten to pause for a reality check, Never imagined would be seated on hardwood, The comfort of my cushion a thing of ‘then ages’, The jewel that shone on my crown ripped off! Cold bites less…, You tear my heart into shreds when I stare into your eyes, For a shell to scorn back my sincere look of love! Thou wilt not be bound to aid mine bargains to take you home tonight, Thwart them if u may, am at your mercy. I wouldn’t take the stand and utter a single word in defence, For I be guilty to the fullest letter of my accusations. My eyes well upon the thought of letting my dove fly away, I grind my teeth with the realization that I yet have failed again, I clench my fist and bay for my own blood; punish the guilty conscious! Amour, The quality of mercy is not strain'd, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath, I humble myself to thy flawless beauty – I kneel before thy kind heart, I seek retribution for my inade...

If I were to meet my gods this day, If I were to face the cruel of gods this day; As the wick of the lamp of my life burns closer inch by inch to its end, Before my blood gets cold, I bind the grace of all gods, That I may whistle the last song in my heart, In sight of gods and men, As stars look down in witness, That the dead shall dance here tonight. May the soft hearts of men weep for me when I depart, May they sing the songs of my sacrifices; the songs of heroes. My heart shelters the story that is me, And this day, I shall paint the last portrait of my heart, For the great lands to admire. During the museum of my years, My eyes have been poisoned, I have seen the innocent suffer, My tongue has been laced, And spoken not against the dirt of men, My nails have been trimmed short, And my fingers cannot paw upon the walls and scale the heights of greatness. If the moon of my life shone no more, Let these words be the nectar of the gods and as libation I pour...

Within these confines that whisper of impregnable quest to quench the thirst of an ‘innocent monster’, Illuminated by the flickering light of years past, Resting upon the comfort of ‘wished upon destiny’, Sleepless thoughts of the ‘should have had’ dreams nudge the passion of fingers long lost in the warmth of broth that is life, And woo them they do! I know less why the birth of a new day finds my eyelids still pegged, The breeze of the ghostly dawn guard against the dreams of my pillow. Solitude be the bride I walk down the aisle, Every tick of the clock is a whack that coils itself round my haunted heart, I detest from wailing to save face from my proud self. Seeds of thoughts planted in yester days force their debut to the tiny surface of my mind-field, Yet am overwhelmed to tend to my thought-lings. Over and over, have pounded clay to mould my pot of wishes, But this new day, the clay for my pot of wishes does not smoothen to the touch of the potter. Like a thre...

Tears so painful to harvest, Whilst so heavy a burden to harbor, If only everything would be golden once more! The fiercest storms hit the hardest following sunny days, Should have read the shadows cast ahead, Were it not for the trickery of the sun that made the shadows shorter, perhaps! This script, wish had rehearsed, Then would have known when to wince and brace the punch, But then, what if, the last time the dentist assured of a strong jaw! It’s now cracked; that punch! Regardless, Will make the play because have to, And crack your ribs to your gratification. Unfamiliar soils will have to lay a bare foot for the first time, And after a massage to sensitize the limbs once more, mine sandals shan’t let you wear again! Now am selfish uh? Thoughts stroll my night away, whilst peaceful dreams pamper the night you walk! You, the GOD, accept sacrifices daily offered. Will you reciprocate in kind? In favour of oiling your back, now you can’t help straighten my collar...