ODE TO PAPIN

Papinistic albino-friend,

I swear to your papinistic albinism;

mimicry mixer, banters aficionado.

You say that I’m cruising?

I cruise no lady but my poems I’m cruising.

Beware to tame,

Your lips spool too much,

nocturnal god that thrives in the night.

There is beauty in the skin lily-white,

pigmentless allure that mirrors limpidness

amidst the melanophobic sods.

Even your tickling corneas beep the world to take a glimpse at you.

Folks, we must come to appreciate what is bright in the day:

limelight of our shenanigans:

The grasshopper in its hoppings,

The cricket in its shrillness,

The cat so dinky-smart sensitise love with its blissful miaow.

The beauty of the world is not in the multitude,

It is in the few ascetic for their typicality.

Corporeal beauty scents nothing glamorous,

It is in the wits and the intellectual blaze that real beauty surfaces.

Amorous jester, jest on, for this warped languidness of mine

must splice to your retorts that sooth the marrows and the bones.

Purgative to my problem-laden bowel,

ride on, and croon along your stringless verses,

for my bulging cheeks are yet to laugh.

 Even the club-footed drone must to your wilzy-walzy stand.

“Cryptic sarcomastigophora!”

 The face long decked by boring odds beckons your humour spiced to ebb it low.

In your fragile balls I see the world in its fragile state.

O skateboarders of bliss, life is slippery,

Ram not your tentacles against the boulders and the worldly flints.

Upon my friend Papin’s scalp, I see fleeces of wooly hair,

the cumulus by propinquity where no louse lies,

Or glowworms their ambush made.

Men of God, let us be clear,

For where clarity is, progress suffers not

and peace usurps the citadel of war.

Then I burrow my gold in the earth

And my axe’s head I wallow to see in the sea.

I must take an albino for a wife,

and a masculine albino for my subtle life.

Olayiwola.O.Metamofosis