WHISTLING WALL (Poetry)

Posted: August 13, 2014 in Poetry, Works of Oyin
Tags: , ,

by Oyin Oludipe

(Written on a Harmattan in Epe)

I sit on shadows, strange
Flights on crosswinds shred
On rust fingers. Through wheeled craft
I sit an earth’s labour to reap
A dance of leaves, newsprung –
Then to sudden dearth –

Is the shrill echo of life
This broken robe of dust cannot tail…
Behind a misted shelf of waters, paint all,
An amber row of roots, air-threads cut
On gale interstices, watching
Clouds that drop as lone prayers
Of mariners they…

Voices new circle
Ghost pastures to the realm,
Terraces of heat to bush prances.
Awaiting silver reins, I sit
A season’s storm to watch
The story of the rot

Oyin Oludipe is a poet and playwright, runs the blog, Hairy Diary (oyinoludipe.blogspot.com). You may contact him on twitter @Sir_Muell

Lyriversity — Liberty of Creativity

Advertisements
Comments
  1. Tim Nwaobilo says:

    This deserves a reread and more elaborate comment .I will.

  2. talesmen says:

    A country where we only can sit and watch… Lots of whistling walls here and there.
    Nice imagery bro, astonishing work.

  3. Falade Temidayo says:

    Lovely article,keep it up bro

  4. Ezeamalukwuo says:

    I agree with Tim, this need a rereading…and having reread it like 4 times now, I still can fully grasp the metaphorical message interbedded here in. On the surface it seems a recollection of the harmattan (or passing wind) raising fallen leaves and rustling the trees. But on a closer look it seems much more…I will seek for understanding till I get it.

    Nice work Mr Oyin, it’s always a pleasure having you here. I only hope you can keep your column here more active.

  5. Anene Francis says:

    Na wa o. All these cut and join lines na fill in the blanks exam? Pity your readers na Lol…
    Complex but no doubt a nice piece. Good work.
    * A situation/occurance, sometimes pleasing sometimes not, (or once pleasant, now unfavorable). The persona can not alter the trend or better the bad times but watch helplessly and reap when he can… Thou shall not laugh o

  6. Awsome poet. That was short but very captivating especially d picture

  7. Oyin- you serve death in an enticing container… we are not scared to taste of your poison… awesome write

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s