Image source:Pinterest


Zoe’s fingers wasn’t enough for her –
to eat –
her miseries of rejecting my love
The god of conscience also lives –
In the heart of my beloved to be.
Nakedness of emotions filled her heart.
The rosy aureole of her affections
made her
eyes filled with joy cry.
The spun of my previous song soft’s a murmur
To her shakara doing.
An autumn of her falling wetly eyes flood my presence.
The tiger in me is about to reinstate my black Zoe
There she stands
like the daughter of the low land,
The yeast of her beauty could not marry my feet to the ground,
Before the ghost in me could move,
my entire –
animation was already in her four glasses.
We were so close like I’m still in one of my unreal fantasies
Her cold –
long arms embraced mine.
Like a blessed horned arrow – I felt her lips of glosses
In her soft whisper –
Telling me to take her back.
‘‘Take me back’’ Zoe keeps saying
My tiger roared – telling her
‘’your sultry lips were like a violet in a deserted paradise’’.
My art of hypothesis could make her calm and secure.
I told Zoe –
‘’ our love life has been written with the pen of centuries –
It begins here with you – My African Bird.
The Bird of flesh and the bird of feathers.’’


Ajao Ibrahim Bello

 A young Nigerian Poet and Writer, who’s living with the term ‘Valorous Son’. My writings dwell much into our present day life and fantasises into the future. I’ve received a number of awards, as the Writer of the year and as the Poet Laureate Award in the previous year.

We're legion

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *