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‘Beyond the Clouds’ and other poems by Balogun Abdulmueed. A

By: Balogun Abdulmueed. A

BEYOND THE CLOUDS

I am yours, I am already yours
friendship can’t bear the burden anymore, it’s too heavy a mountain for her neck.

She might collapse like limber belief.

You’re mine, you’re already mine
friendship should bind us together
no more.

She could rubble like the wall of Jericho.

I can’t keep shutting down my heart everytime you come around
and that feeling makes me so sick.
I can’t keep being a prisoner in

friendship’s prison.
You shouldn’t keep hiding under the cloud of pretence too,

because love is written all over your face
friendship should go away into the bush

and show not again her face.

for we’re beyond the cloud of friendship, let love burgeon with no hardship.

###

DEDICATED II

For dreamers,
who became wraiths
on dream chase.

For lovers,
that found bliss,
in each other’s pristine smile,
but became memories preserved on epitaphs.

For friends,
that traversed to limbo.

For mothers, fathers,
sisters and brothers that
became spoils of war.

For hearts that are metaphors of death,
for souls likened to similes of dirge,
for beings smeared with dark paradox of threnody.

We write this poem,
for ageless bliss, and
for boundless euphoria,
for ceaseless comfort, and
for elation depthless as the pacific,
to spring like a fountain
on the soil of your mind.

###

THERE WAS A TIME.

There was a time
when I felt like an alien in my skin
when neither beloving friends nor
apparent fiends crave my presence

There was a time
when life marred
my soul and spilled my patience on a
platter of inquiry and on my back laid an indelible scar of everlasting remembrance

There was a time
when life became a tyrant and oppressor,
when memories faded like snow on fire,
when friends waned like curling smoke

There was a time
when I ran out of fuel of hope
and became quirky in my optimistic thoughts

There was a time
when hunger became the muhazzen at
the minaret of my stomach,
when I almost made love with hemlock
just to flee from the storm.

There was a time
When neither beloving friends
nor apparent fiends crave to read
the countenance on my face.

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