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Poetry by Deji Adesoye


Monday, January 1, 2018



Your Face

Your face looks like the washing of plain white

In detergent and stream

The foam sparkles with

Sharp thin bubbles that blow

Aroma unto the noontime color of a vast sky


Dew descend in the evening,

On the fine blades of temper when

You let loose the feline muscles around your lips


And when you smile, water runs from street to street

Atmosphere opens her wide arms

The body of tension finds Jordan 

On the skin of heaven’s air that baptizes

Soul for the remission of life’s throes


And I love to see your chin drop in a staccato grace

In a moment of laughter

The velvet coating of the round vase

The luminal glazing of mist settled on a black cone


Yet my love, in the fluorescence of evening

You waft into my soul like the multi-ethnic

Aroma inside city malls

And the next morning gleams in your skin

Like a fresh mint of coin.


Come to Me Now

I saw you in my sleep

in a blue hat.

You ran along a rail track.


In my sleep I saw you in a blue hat

and blue-white laced sleeves

I beckoned to you.


But your face also, was blue…when

you turned a look at my side…

You have not stopped running away



Come to me now that the sun is coming

And let us watch the tide climb gently

Dance to the warm rhythm of dawn


Let me hold your hand

The young sun rises from under our eyes

Love was born in dawn and warm

The twilight triumph of new palm fronds


Then let us age with the sun

Rising and setting

Rising and setting

Sitting at this balcony witnessing the birth


Of morning, day after day

Till eyes get weary to behold the dazzling light,

Passing along as we pass the time of life, in


The snug embrace of Mother Nature

Who divided a soul in two

Lodged the pieces in two bodies


Come to me now, when it is dawning

The evening shall come when we cannot play in grass

The evening of life when the grass is tawny.



Sing the lullaby, gently

And let me drift away on your soft lap

I have sucked your breasts after all, and

Bit your nipples; your nipples that

Shine with waiting milk and stand up


Sing this lullaby, my mother; the child

Flops that calls her mother baby too: this naughty

Head of mine taking breeze in the verandah of

Your wristbands, fingers that walk down my chest

With the step of water.


[Listen jesters, I have overeaten vegetable.]

And allow me to combine my eyelids, sip sweet nap in

Your youthful hands. And I will love

To drift away in this courtyard hedged by your

Laps’ laces, when soil makes haste to harvest me—

And my ears on your soft skirts


Gathering your last voice

[upon broken beads of presence]

Shrinking in the lullaby of departure.



Deji Adesoye is a Nigerian philosopher, writer and poet. His works have appeared on Thenewblackmagazine.com, Bravearts Africa, Kalahari Review, BrittlePaper.com, Ijagun Poetry Journal, the Ann Arbor Review etc. He is the author of Anony Mous, a poetry e-book. Many of his works are also featured on his blog www.dejidesoyemi.wordpress.com


Poetry by Deji Adesoye

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