Featured Poem: Erinle - by Martins Deep

ERINLE

Eventide;

Night unclads at the riverside

with her gown perfumed with silence

slowly dropping on a mat of

clams and gasping Tilapia.

Pillow of pebbles that turns into gold

when the morning sun kisses

the earth with Midas lust.

Her eyes searches every ripple

returning from errands unsent

to her bare thighs.

The exiled moon returns home

to inspire the chicken-hearted lover

on his thousandth unread love-letter.

An anthill poised like a forgotten god

standing on the border

of a lost territory

on whose sacred shrine

now stands the crucifix.

Invocations awakens

the river god sleep-walking to her bed.

She births the fishermen

fortunes on nets, fish hooks

and the praise of proud housewives.

Morning takes desperate strides

to take the glory of night

when the fishers bow before the black sun

that warms the heart of Africa

inconsolably mourning her sons

that were dumb at home

but now sings her songs in a strange land.

- Martins Deep

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