Ojo Taiye’s Poems

Ojo Taiye

Black Colour

“Don’t you love colours?’’

“Yes, I do.”

“I love black.”

“The reason for this liking”

I spent my childhood in dark nights…

… and my youth doing dark deeds

I used to work at the docks.

I would fill coal in the crates.

And that darkness became a part of me:

Like a vampire sucks all colour, all sound.

To be precise, I would

shed black tears…

and see black dreams


To breath is a dream


for a crying bench

across the bridge of a river

of a river flowing

with toothless bones,

rhythms in a graveyard

with no fragrance

for each new day,

a fairy tale of light

for a soldier drunk in love

we must bear the brunt

of a possessed woman

tied around an orange


In magical tears,

there are no ballads,

no uppercase poems

for one whose love apricot

is a running nightmare.

It is all monologue,


in a sad motel.



there was a ritual fight for her sweet body

between two virgins – Mary and the moon

a little girl in pink shoes


the louvre is melting into mist

it will soon be transparent

and through it will glimmer the mysterious

island gardens of memories – fragrances

coming into subaqueous

on the skin of an Assyrian revolver

forming into something – beautiful – awful – huge

a crape veil

on a lizard’s eye


Ojo Taiye is a young Nigerian who uses poetry as a handy tool to hide
his frustration with the society



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