In those cities where dreams are buried like corpses.

A boy came out to make a flame of rainbows
He held his mother’s scarf songs on his palms.
They told him dreams have never survived there.
He dreamed on without a fight with the wind,
He made name for himself.
He once asked his father where broken
dreams goes,
His father told him to learn how to empty himself on the ocean of himself.
Life is two of your bodies:
One your soul and spirit
The other your body & thought.
When Adam was created to ease man’s pains,
He became pain itself striking tarn taint
Breaking the dawn with a fist of fury.
Yes, in this nexus land planting is a single sin
Harvest is a dillusion of destruction
We folded nightmare into sharp shapes
Drifting them into elipsis of boys with home,
Boys learning to drop their own lives to live another man’s life.
How do you come home without your shadows
The shadiest of all your companions?
How did you return home without your eyes,
The most annoying part of you?
In this cities are cited page like yours
Green is not a colour but a cascading casket
That reminds us of our mother’s prestige.
Our ancestral souls were in those black
tablets,tablets where our father’s dimples
were saved.
When you come to this land, learn to
walk like the youths who spent their lives
betting &vetting their dreams into the hands &heads of old men.
In those cities where dreams are buried like corpse, some boys have learnt to carry themselves to fly in the sky whilst,
others still crawl like a baby.
That is the difference.

©John Chizoba Vincent