THE MIND OF A WRITER.

                                                    THE MIND OF A WRITER.

The mind of a Writer is the eyes of an eagle
that walks miles high in the skies
And never misses her pray

The mind of a Writer is mightier than all legendary swords.
As it can start a war and also envelope all thoughts of war 

that is roaring like lion in the minds of the people.

The mind of a Writer paints the most beautiful pictures
As it is brighter than the light of the day,
Faster than any 3D camera lens,
even more colorful than a rainbow.

The mind of a Writer sees the future before a Fortune Teller

At night they dine with the metaphysical world.

The mind of a Writer can listen to noise that silence makes,

Can eavesdrop rhythms in the thin air,
The rhymes in the ocean waves,
even the cry of an unborn baby.

The mind of a Writer is  immortal like ‘Time’.
A member of the past when they read,
A portion in present when they critical think
And division of the future when they  write.

No wonder! Robert Frost’s image never froze,
Williams Wordsworth’s words always worth it
And people are never done talking about John Donne.

Only the eyes sleep at night
But to the mind, it’s a might.
The mind of a Writer never dies.

MY MIND SINGS.

               MY MIND SINGS

Oh my mind sings.

Oh my mind sings.

Every diction in this poem, I have carefully picked.

Because my mind travels to a ‘Peak’

where life treasures secrets carefully leak.

Oh my mind sings.

Oh my mind sings.

Every time I think, an instinct

 tells my that my mind sings.

Oh a silently loud song, my mind sings.

Oh a lyrically balance song, my mind sings.

Oh my mind sings.

Every time my mind sings, it lyrics

kisses me with pleasure and times

weeps me with displeasure.

Oh my mind sings.

Oh my mind sings.

Every time my mind sings,

Life’s eternal secrets it bring

Sometimes, this exposed secret stinks,

and at times, like gold it blings.

Oh my mind sings.

Sometimes, like my blackberry contact it pings.

And a times, like my mood it swings.

Sometimes, it eternal joy water I drink

And at times, unlimited sorrow it flings.

Oh my mind sings.

Oh my mind sings.

Not A Minute Without You

                                                           Not A Minute Without You

To 'YOU' that introduced me to this:
endless battle of love,
every thin air I breath speaks of you,
making me always imagine the picture of you,
that is sitting,wearing a sweet smile,
like that of an ocean in my heart. I sigh.

As the miles between us pile,
no moment has gone awhile,
without me thinking of the qualities
of an angel in you. i smile
and fly,making me high,
because your image always come by.

Your smile never dies.
Even during our imaginary ring fights,
the patient you I always sight.

Your thoughts in my heart
taste like juice in my mouth
as it turns to words.
Every morning, I'll read them like psalm,
it lyrics crested at the back of my left palm.
In my life, you brought no harm
Not having you is the harm.

Every sound that I hear,
any sign that is near,
even tastes that I fear
plus the thin air in my breath
points to me and say: "You are there."
"My exposed and out going angel is here."
My lips will pronounce with care
because those words are pearls
that i need to cherish even when I'm in tears
                                              **** THE END****

TO OUR MANSION BUILDERS | Tunde Abdulsalam

                                 ***TO OUR MANSION BUILDERS ***

Our leaders, you ought to be our pillars,
Symbolizing our Caesars,
Instead of being our freedom seizure.
What's your responsibility as our country ship sailors?

Instead of attending to your people's health,
You enjoy draining the country's wealth.
Building more than your needed castles on earth,
That's your definition for success, I bet.

Your people wake in pains and heart ache,
Striving and struggling for their share of this national cake.
A cake that is naturally baked
Legitimately for the people's sake.

Please strengthen our mansion pillars
That's your primary responsibility as our nation builders
                                          ***THE END***

Written by: Tunde Abdulsalam

******A DINNER WITH DEATH******

       
    A DINNER WITH DEATH
    Death covered my eyes from behind with his palms; in pleasure I asked which of my friends is at play. Sonorously, his thick voice revealed his identity. There, my breath acceleration tripled and immediately came to a halt , I needed to remind myself to still breathe. “Do you mind following me?” he said. in a persuasive manner. “Not yet time.” my swift response echo.... “This is not your journey to the morgue, just a dinner with me.” He rendered in form of a lullaby.
        One needs not to be told that his aged crypt existed even before the Tower Of Babel. His well furnished apartment is designed   with dried skulls. Drops of blood from hung fresh skulls make the floor looks like Noble Carpet is his rug designer. On a set of skulls, he offered me a seat. But, my expression reveals that in his house, I'll prefer standing till eternity. My curiosity revealed to me that blood is the content on the mug he was holding. “Let’s have a drink.” He offered. But, he needed not to be told that my belle will remain filled till thy kingdom come. Though, the immediate gaunt in my physical expression shows my blood is draining rapidly. “Ask me things you'll like to know about me, I'll be glad to supply you with answers.” He altered giving me a wink. Then the question an answer session begins.
           “Why do you make us get our precious body buried or cremated?” I asked wearing a curious gesture. “Oh that?” He responded with a smile. “Recycling souls for the production of new ones is an inevitable system that keeps life going.” With hast, I asked. “Does that mean new souls can't be created while the already existing ones live?” He stood and moved closer to me. “Don't you think this world has it size and capacity? Manufacturing new souls with the existing ones will only get this world overcrowded.” He continued. “Do you think this planet belongs to human alone? Have you not read about the presence of the aliens? The world of animals is another thing you have to put in consideration. Don't you think the micro organism will become visible and imagine the numbers of them you'll inhale in every single breath?”  Argumentatively, I responded. “If that be the case, an old soul should be a better replacement for the new ones.” He leaned forward holding my shoulders. “I am only a slave to Fate, Chance, Kings, Despirate men, Dot with poison and Sickness according to John Donne's perception about me.” I gave him a look that suggested a partial agreement to what he said and asked.” What's your perception about poets like John Donne, Emily Dickinson, William Blake amongst other poets who had written one or two poems about you?” He zipped from his mug and said. “In my constituent, there is freedom of ideas.” As sweat rolled down from my forehead, I asked. “When will you hijack the chariot that transports my soul?” "I will when the time is right.” He said, in a more satisfactory tone. “What then do I do to prolong that time?” I asked with my voice braking .He freed my shoulders and said.” I am inevitable like I told you earlier, just live life fearlessly and......” “Does that mean I should risk my life by daring Gunmen, bombs, unprotected sex, or even dare swallowing poison?” I broke in his talk. Sonorously, he said.  “My dear,  “touching my chest "I will be glad to kill you if you look for me in every ways or manners.” He continues for any soul that experienced birth, Death has become inevitable for such soul.”  
BY:
ABDULSALM JAMIU .B