‘Gbekude, a poem by Oredola Ibrahim

 

uintellection

…the lines of immortality.

 

 

And everyday, the winds whisper to my ears

The ephemeral dirges sung in the palace of death

Every second, bodies breathe their last

And souls embark on the mythical journey of afterlife

Every time, the story tellers tell the tales

That slaughter memories in the nimble passage of time.

 

 

‘Gbekude,

The dissector of time

The seed of immortality

That gnaws on the secret

Embedded in the Kola’s partition.

gbekude

 

Death rains in mazed torrents

In an endless cycle of bloom and pallor

Kingdoms rise to fall

As their kings fall for a new sunrise

Thus, the globe balance up

In its brevity tales of brevities.

 

 

‘Gbekude,

The tale of a pestle

Suspended by threads of spider’s web

The earthenware that must never friend the earth.

 

 

Death has chosen us all

In its usual heartless responsibility

But behind this façade, is a choice

Of choosing to die or not.

When he auctions off death in soulless calls

You can stop the gavel from cutting the bead

 

 

‘Gbekude,

The legendary fight with death

The mystery enclosed in the ivory pendant

The hangman’s neck’s inevitability from the lifeless noose.

 

 

I chose life, not because I am afraid of death

But because there’s nothing worth dying for

If time is an illusion I want to live forever under its spell

For death is a trick my circus-man can never perfect

 

 

In space and time, I want to live beyond my years

Beyond generations that will breathe through my words

 

Regenerating my heartbeats in waiting legends…

20.34

 

 

 

 

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