Seeking Makeda I: (Journey into Sound)

All rights reserved for The Abeng and My Conscious Pen/
YardCore International, Inc. Publishing

Seeking Makeda I:  (Journey into Sound)

copyright 2011 K. Omodele

Because Makeda is still a symbol of the epitome of African wombmanhood, there was never a time when the Empress was not…

...Empress Divine…
like destiny enshrined in mind and time
as gems essence glows in Solomon’s mines
sublime, King Solomon’s sun-burned sweet
divinely implanted life's breath, heart beat


breath takes
pulse race
pul-sates,
re-so-nates
rhy-thm
re-peats
ke-te,
fun-deh,  bass


vintner’s red glint in long ling-er-ing kiss
on Rosa-moist lips inhaled soul-ful bliss

copyright 2011 K. Omodele

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March 27...(Comfort of Fools)

copyright 2011 K.Omodele for The Abeng

A new beginning...

her sashay graced the catwalk

snatched his thought,

suspending his breath

on a climatic ledge

...

gripped his stone-flint heart

and struck a SPARK!

the river-walk in Augusta

arms en-wrapping arm

skin caressing skin

sun-warmed hearts coddling

prom dates whisper in spring

soft kisses dripping promises

of life-long tomorrows

filled with never-ending,

early-morning pillow talk

and private sabbatical reasonings

interpreting Love and contemplating Life...

love of a lifetime

learning through life, time

growing, graying

soul intertwining soul

...

but

tomorrow

never

came
and the promise

comforted only the fools

Jah knows, their yesterdays crept in the way...

copyright 2011 K.Omodele for The Abeng

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Related articles

• Seeking Makeda I: (Journey into Sound) (consciouspen.blogspot.com)
• Seeking Makeda II: (Journey InSight) (consciouspen.blogspot.com)

An Empress' Eyes

 Copyright 2010 K. Omodele

When he first saw her, he was convinced the secrets of the pyramids were etched in her eyes, the way they twinkled like she knew some mystery, untold. Unblinking, she scanned the room and it was like a lioness assessing her plain- basking in confidence that could move Nubia and Kush.
When he first saw her laugh, really laugh deep, life's divine essence danced with the spring sunlight, those glittering eyes sweet. 

After their first brief peck, her eyes squinted to slits, that's it? chastising him- like Head-mis-tress Harper with cane in fist.

Then he noticed, though stern, they still sparkled through rain and he realized that her eyes had conquered much pain. That made him wonder, are Queens only born  queens or can a woman be molded into royalty? the way intense pressure forms carbon to gems.
When they first really loved, her eyes were rolling lava, molten and slow. Her cheekbones high like the Nile Valley walls and he delighted as the river shimmered into her soul.

When she's gray, will the eye-corners pinch lines from the passage of time? Will they shine reminiscing these times?
Her regal eyes; her caring eyes; her vibrant, intelligent and intense eyes; 

eyes that scream independence; eyes full with thought;

Scrabble eyes bright; dreamy late night;
her eyes, her eyes, her eyes, her eyes!

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Related articles

• Seeking Makeda II: (Journey InSight) (consciouspen.blogspot.com)
• Seeking Makeda I: (Journey into Sound) (consciouspen.blogspot.com)
• Empress (poetwhispers.wordpress.com)
• An Empress' Eyes (theabengandmyconsciouspen.com)
• Seeking Makeda III: (Journey in Touch) (consciouspen.blogspot.com)

Longing For?

Copyright 2007 K.Omodele all rights reserved

Longing for...

Though you’re here in my heart night and day,
your scent is elusive, faded like life’s first image
Sometimes I can make out your voice sighing my name
light as a whisper of blossoms-sorrel, mango, guava;
gentle as the moonlight’s touch on a blacked-out night.
Night after night after night I can feel your touch
like a Caribbean breeze’s caress, goosing up my skin,
lifting through me like sap in a ganja plant.
Intoxicating. Stimulating.Yearning
for you to appear

near.
Yet
memories
remain as fleeing illusions
to be pursued
but never attained.

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