A Tale of Time

The sweet chiming of bells; slow passage of time
Cackling of chickens and chirping of crickets
Remind me of the future we once dreamt about
The story of my life: a true motion picture
Far more to tell than that which meets the eyes
Much harder to sell in cold weather than ice
Hold your thoughts: this is a commercial break

You sang me a song when I turned sweet thirteen
Told me to be brave when I clocked seventeen
Truly no one was there when it mattered the most
Jobless and homeless at vague twenty-three
Crispy fried chicken slowly turned sour on my lips
Joyful birthday song growing dour by the year
Please wake me up now: all this has to be a dream

Look here we are, still awake, grinding out reality
Little feet follow me as I make my own mistakes
I traded away my fears at the currency exchange
But held on to my greed, an implicit part of me
Surely I must write my story, as I try to find my way
Though you must be wary as you listen to my tale
Yet no better tale was told than one made up on the go

The Unusual Poem

Let us write a poem, you and I

One that adheres to no rules

That behaves like no other poem

You have ever come across

It will trace the path that we walk

And tell the stories of our lives

To generations yet unborn

This poem of ours will not be read

Only its story will be told

It will become the stuff of myths:

The poem that never was read,

That never could be read

That even re-wrote itself

It will change its form

Every time we meet to write

It will never have a form

It will never have a name:

Only its story will be told

Toyin Taiwo © 2015