Utopia, Euphoria, Myopia

By Akin O. Akindele

This is a book of poetry, musical lyrics and fictional short stories. It is designed to give the reader a full flavor of the author's range and the diverse subject matters that many would clearly relate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 12, 1999
• ISBN: 9781462813124

Akin O. Akindele

AKINDELE has assisted individuals, governmental and corporate entities in connection with legal matters worth in excess of Hundreds of Millions of Dollars, including legal assistance to thousands of indigent families and children. I on behalf of myself and our organization commend your courage, energy and effort Dr. Beko Ransome-Kuti, Chairman, Campaign for Democracy (CD) October 22, 1993 Thank you also for your continued support with the Childrens Law Center, and for your faith in the City of Detroit Honorable Dennis Archer, Mayor, City of Detroit March12, 1997 Proceeds from this Book will be dedicated to the multinational public service programs of THE AKINDELE FOUNDATION.

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Copyright ©1998 by Akin O. Akindele.

Softcover 0-7388-0250-6 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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DEDICATION

TO THE ENCHANTED BEAUTY OF LIFE AS WE

KNOW IT, AND THE INTRIGUING MYSTERY OF

ALL THAT IS YET TO COME.

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

FOREWORD

INTRODUCTION

BOOK ONE

REACH FOR THE SKY

A SEASON FOR HEROES

HOPE

PURGATORY

GOLDEN AUTUMN

LEAVES

DEAD MAN WALKING

PEACE

WHEN

IMPRESSIONS

CHERISH YOUR DREAMS

TIME

SWIM OR SINK

A NEW SEASON

FOR HOPE

STILL, I SEE

THE RAINBOW

PYRRHIC VICTORY

TIME BOMB

REPOSE

SUNSHINE AT LAST

HEROES

THE LEGACY

STILL FEEL LIKE A JAMAICAN?

THE GHETTO CUP

BOOK TWO

YOUTH

A BALLAD FOR

BABY HAPPY

I REMEMBER

WHY WE DANCE

THE NEW DETROIT

BEAUTY

MAGIC

FRIENDS

CASANOVA ROVER

GREY

LOVE

HOME

MY FAVORITE SHOE

LIFE

TELL ME

EASTER

MEDICINE MAN

CELINA

BOOK THREE

DEFIANCE

FIRE FIGHTERS

JURISPRUDENCE

OPEN SECRETS

THE QUEST

AN UNINSPIRED DAY

BRANDED

FREE YOUR MIND

BEAR WITNESS TO

THE TRUTH

ON A BRAIN DRAIN

TO UTOPIA

THE HOSTAGES

AS THE WIND BLOWS

WHY

WAR

MURDER WITH A VIEW

THE MYTH OF

THE ANARCHIST

THE SQUIRRELS

IN MY ATTIC

THE REFUGEE

THE WAKE

THE SHADOW

KIRIKIRI

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To the inspired life force that continues to unleash

its energy in my wake.

To my various mentors and all the other creative writers I have

had the honor of enjoying their works.

FOREWORD

SALUTATION

I take my hat off

and pay obeisance

from a humble distance

before I take off

I lay my body prostrate in salutation

even as my spirits soar

to be one with the lions that roar

with wisdom and inspiration

Untangle my tongue and unclutter my mind

let the words dance and the music in my soul

flow to fill the bowl

with this humble supplication of mine.

INTRODUCTION

IF I WERE A POET

Am I required to think

that poetry is totally inspired?

That it flows, if at all

instinctively and with great gust

without any conscious effort

to tailor the thoughts

and fashion the language?

Am I to await that faithful gust

and unconscious eloquence

to sort through and express

these many seemingly convoluted thoughts

that keep humming in my head

and the tuneless verses of music

still dancing in my soul?

Should I hope that this faithful gust

of inspired intuition and wisdom

will not knock on my door at night

when fatigue has set in and my eyes are tired

when my hands are asleep

and my mind, locked in an erotic dream

awash in unspoken poetry, still

But why free up a stated hour

if it is indeed as reputed

such a forceful gust of unconscious eloquence

then I might well be knocked cold in drunken stupor

still, this force should cobble together

with dexterity and ease, those magical rhymes

even from the cluttered state of my disheveled mind

BOOK ONE

UTOPIA

REACH FOR THE SKY

Reach for the sky

touch the yellow moon high

float with the birds

Angel wings aboard

Reach for the sky

let your soul fly

high into the heavens o’er

the deep blue clouds soar

Reach for the sky

rise and reach far high

feel the breeze and fly

with the Angels, the birds, fly

A SEASON FOR HEROES

Fancy the footprints of the legends

it is after all the season

when men grow

to become heroes

and real heroes

grow

at the appointed season

to be canonized as true legends

HOPE

When all else fail

and our strength is spent

when confusion reigns and pain rules our tent

when our confidence is shaken and our doubtful spirit wails

As we slide down the slope

and we are plunged into the seas without a paddle

we are rattled and begin to grapple

and desperately cast about for hope

Hope, the intangible

yet fungible

compass

that invigorates and feeds our spirit

and renews our exultation of faith in the spirit

descends to make our fervent desires come to pass

PURGATORY

How did it come to this?

Why am I in this place?

chilled with desolation

the darkness is thick with uncertainty

the weight of this eerie fog exhausts

even as one strives to exult

Am I here to be cleansed

of all that shackles and ails my spirit?

Am I to be teased and challenged

by life’s convoluted intrigues?

or am I indeed here to be submerged

and to be sunk into the very depths of ominous despair?

Am I destined in time to partake of life’s exhilaration?

and to soar with the thrill that attends inevitable reprieve?

Am I here to, in time behold and bask

in the majesty of the rainbow

as it hatches even from the womb of human despair

to glorify the heavens and illuminate troubled souls?

How did it come to this?

Why am I in this place?

this desolate milieu for those that crave hope

this leveling desert for those thirsting for a leg up

Alas, am I perchance here to be one of these lost souls

that have been consigned to call this chilling place home?

How did it come to this?

Pray tell, why am I in this place?

GOLDEN AUTUMN

LEAVES

The golden autumn leaves

stroll down the easy streets

that connect hanging branches

to busy sidewalks

as they fall leisurely

to celebrate

this happy season

of cool breeze

and easy days

As the crisp golden leaves

flutter as they dance

with the breeze

soon they are dispersed

to share their joy

before the frost

of the frigid season