The Madness of a poet!!!

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The Madness of a poet

 

 

In our Private Asylum

Branded with iron teeth of Imagination

there we bury our head

with our hands on the peeling hairs

tattered with our clean rot wears

grilling with pleasurable pains

Possessed by the demon of poetry

Spirited with the fingers of an angel in its gentleness

Slicing our heart with hurried consciousness of worldly words

banging with heavy multitude of flows

therein in silent meditations

pushing through every parts of the body

until it finds a home in the hands

scratching the tables made of steel

with feathers made of ink

Chuckling unceasingly with white teeth

for each awful joy of words

Therein rush the nurses that fly with white wings

clothed with the radiance of the red sky

pumping heavy drills of  laudanum

to speed the fuzzy thrills

Stuttering the pulse with native feel

The eyes glow dimly with parting appearance

pouring the waves of the bitten skin

with the heart of a creepy ink

waving to passersby 

the torn neatly arranged notes

passing it through the bricks made of straw

as the night close to the lightly dreams

 

 

 

 

 

MO.

 

 

 

 

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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