Dark Romance Volume I

8/18/2019 Dark Romance Volume I

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Dark Romance Volu e I

arkRomance

Volume

The irony of beauty in thebeauty of irony

Adelere Adesina 3/31/2016


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ii Adelere Adesina


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iii Dark Romance Volu e I

All rights reserved. Any part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means with or without the written permission of the author provided it is not modified, but remains in its original form.


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iv e e e e

To poetry


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v Dark Romance Volu e I

Dark Romance

Dark romance is a form of poetry where the poet appreciates Nature in a way that seems he is rather trying to spell its badness. In other words, this is the act of expressing the sweetness of life as if it is bitterness, for example, telling the sun is full of glory, in literary terms,

by saying its glories made the eyes go blind for ten days – just enormous is such a sun, you know.

This type of harshness is ironic. I believe harshness itself can mean too strong and brilliant. In Windy Breath, for instance, praises of the wind

are expressed in very brutal terms such as rough gasps of the earth, hanging breath in a while, and other images that show horrors the mighty wind can make. In real terms, the poet is saying the wind is powerful and cannot be underestimated for its strength. Another instance is that in Fluffy Clouds where the sun is described as blinding, yet unable to stop clouds from stopping its display of valour on the earth.

The clouds are then painted as hard pens with grave inks that compress sunlight into little rays. All the images of these are terrible, but are meant to say terrific.

Dark romance is a type of verse that is identified by its expression of beauty in beauty's contrast. Dark romance is 'the irony of beauty in the beauty of irony'.


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vi e e e e

ITS SCANSION AND RH YME

I have not laid any particular rhythm for this poetry. It is all freeverse, in fact. There is no particular rhyme for it as well. The dark

romance I know is full of a different rhythm, and a different rhyme:the intense, forceful and violent manipulation of the heart of anyone who

reads, including the poet, by very strong, stormy images. The rhythm is

such that should make the heart beat irregularly, as the poetry is irregularly praising Nature, life and the universe. The rhyme should be such that is felt in the walls of the mind by very vast images which can be created in any way, provided such is not barbaric, vulgar and abominable. The rhyme is such that makes the mind sense the same subject in massive imagery such that the similarities are schemed in the

pictures drawn themselves. Reading through Windy Breath and FluffyClouds, for example, one will find no impression to make a noise of any

regular rhyme or rhythm except that the heart that is capable of imaginations will find disparate images condensed in a cline, till the rhymes are not in words again, but in the heart's thought; and rhythms are not of reading again, but of thinking. That is the scansion and

rhyme of dark romance. However, as poetry is organic, it is possible someone lays a variation with a particular rhyme and rhythm. The essence is lyricism has to be loud that both ears and heart can hear its sound from the poem.

WALLS


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Yes, walls, the limits. As I have mentioned earlier, the activity of the

ink in this poetry should not be identified with slangs, taboos and any such abominable thing. Nature is so pure that the staining white sun inthe grey sky is not fucking anything there – just now you know it is

barbaric to say the fucking sky got its ass burning on the binty (forthose who well manipulate words) sun. Now that is a lot of slangs. It istotally wrong and different to what dark romance is and will remain to

be. Anything away from this is not dark romance.

Adelere Adesina


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Fluffy Clouds

Afront the sun's blinding circle crown

before the sharp, stiffening blue sky,

the white bubbles bullied the morn.

There came,

as it did,

an indigo

set in waves of light

that slapped into my eyes

from the solar orifice

just because the hard pens

of the soft waters

racing infinitely to war

but never crashing

–one separating from one 'gain –


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Dark Romance Volu e I

I behold their hardened fluffiness

on my beanbag

in their morning rowdiness.


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12 e e e e

Windy Breath

The Earth's noses were roughly gasping

like the sprint's large lungs heaving heavy for orbital sprint.

The calm atmosphere, swept away

by her laden breath,

got pressures graver than fingers in boiling water

The earth threw up for the Earth's exhalation

that the brown particles Brownianing

stopped my eyes a while,

hung my breath a jiffy,

spanked my coughs till I held my neck

sneezing and coughing neck.

Very swift in cycle

like the metres race in circle,

the second exhalation threw me off balance,


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that now I know its strength

to uproot houses,

to shift my head that I look back with body fronting,

to twist air, to reach for the sky, to tear down silos,

to dance water in the presence of trees,

to turn thin in forest's twigs.

My eyes shut,

I saw it coming again

on the seas this time,

when the Earth exhales a third.

The gentle rivers shivered

till the calm of the ocean

became a nightmare's ghost when dawn dawns.

The silent whales ran for their lives

for man breathes out four oxygens of one carbon;

but the Earth, tens of hundreds of thousands of waveygen.


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So mighty is this

whose breath strangles nearly

my breath.


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A Bird

I

A bird flies over me,

passes on person some blissful waste.

A bird wants home eggs:

it tree perches on.

A bird has wings

that slaps air out of peace.

A bird beaks best

boring pores in innocent stems.

II


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16 e e e e

Of varying beauties –

some white, others black,

and shades between these conflicting colours –

they flight in air, like sorcerers;

they nest with dryness,

though by strength gather.

Some pick like dogs bones;

others at child's flab flap.

Some with heavy thuds

thunder the earth swiftly;

others lift to the lift.

One seems bald,

and one talkathieves

very openly and boldly –

and tells every enemy hiding places.


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Of large muscles,

of soar, of fledge,

trying to murder the sun

so they can reign reins.

Yet in one thought,

all is a bird.


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18 e e e e

A Blanket over a Night

When the wind whispers into me –

I was gently frolicking amidst dark forest –

he melodies the sounds of rustling leaves;

lyrics of whom follows:

clothing the earth into darkness,

liminating moon, professing kindness,

whose light he shut off,

he spreads itself in his garment,

and takes the planet in the same.

There shall be no meettherboilism,

no –

the earth's heart will not warm –

for he does gag the mouthing geoid.

Shrills of chills cloud the skin of the sphere.

From afar he monitors with little eyes of cold blinks.


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No man shall refuge;

no means shall escape.

By the large garment has the sun bowed,

and his archering has lost power to kill and melt;

but for a rudeness so stark,

he closes the windows of queen moon.

The wind sings the tale into my ears;

I know the cause of the fuss.

Now I see why wickedness

is the handshake of the trees

within which I'm walking

glaring at the welkin.


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20 e e e e

A Flower

Like a whore at the gates,

nay, by the roadside,

whose lips colours the rainbow,

and whose flesh moulds the baby,

this flower lures me to a corner

where I carry it in my hand,

and stare for a long moment,

untickling time's tortured:

redness so ravishing,

whiteness so washing,

the sight I sparse see in aeons.

Yet, the floral does petal a magnificence,

outoftheworld inspirations;

alien to the world of beauty,

unlike any before.


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Yet, it is a flower,

though like a whore luring,

fair and garlanded,

it entices by strange perfumes,

my dreams suffers its nosetalgia,

for fragrance this does weary not me come to.

Yet, it is a bound of petals,

feeble and fragile,

aging and veining and wealing;

though it has made my heart love

by all forces of its tyranny.


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22 e e e e

An Evening Blueness

Behind the scene where rain just drain,

where water butter the soaked soil,

there comes another as though of tenderness:

in this is shades of blueness

curtaining the images of grey motions,

eliminating each move of farfog from sight,

a terrible killer of wavy heavenly oceans

and of the deadness of your melancholy,

o soul that quills inevitable beauty.

You are raptured into some lust

by mere shades of disblur blues.

Slothful learn of the wisdom:

you shall not look them twice,

for they carry you into euphoria,

into some hypnosis of celestial awe.


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Blue firmaments, how thiefly they are,

chief robbers of attention,

I shall now ponder

when they steal my sleepy dreams, too.

I have no cause to argue against;

though they are handless, they offstand me;

though they are legless, they outrun me.

They seize my attention,

and become my love.

I heed to their chants

as they charm in flying colours.

O, great blueness,

how much demanding!


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24 e e e e

Brim Blue s Beasts

Filling the gills with airs,

same which seizes my breath,

and waggling tail to dance forward,

slim body, you are distinct.

Yes, distinct, who eyes from acute sides,

of whom family comes a gold,

another jell, another eightness —

one of whom shocks —

and a stone that stones life to death.

Wonders of the sea,

swimmy creatures of blues.

They whose blood brutally

coldens the depth.

Vast, number competing with man —

do they not outrace us all?


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Yet, jump up like frog's tongue

and party without mercy of planktons,

and volumes up the waters' volumes.

Bloodless brains of red flow.

Has any seen redness glow

on their pretty soft faces?

They are always in flushed waters

running into waters.


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26 e e e e

Claps in Lights

Screams in pitches high

like the widow's ululation

when night is on a long sleep,

in the mid of the slumber,

screams as such

he screams.

Then in sonorous voices

that sorcerers shiver for

he raises his running cacophonies

My ears have tingled a thousand times;

and grass runs in fearsome speed,

away as wind runs away in fearsome speed,

away as storm runs away in stormy speed.

He has learnt a lot of tricks,

how to glitter across ten thousand borders


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and clap his ten million hands at once,

and reclap them in fading solemnity.

He trembles the earth's foundations,

and my staggering fall to the soil.

I colden within me;

he hottens my courage.

He sings for some strange gods –

and humans that are deaf –

songs of eternal feardom,

of blatant aweinfullness.

Songs of the living,

to which he atonically claps.

Like ululations of the widow,

the orphan, the bereft in the grave

singing with bass the tenor of freaks,

he raises hi last singscream

after a widespread of fire across the sky.


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28 e e e e

He then halts.

He is claps in lights.


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30 e e e e

Earth

And though I fill my bowels from your toil,

you cease not murder an innocent souled seed.

Even though I wear from your tears of cotton,

you cease not brown my purity before night crumbles.

Earth!

In drenched you my feet sink

and the beauty of redness stinks here.

I carry your sand for mudding,

but it pours like a prodigal.

I carry your mud for washing,

but it sticks like a stingy.

Earth!

You do so well to rob my skin

in little pebbles like autumn leaves:

they remind the writing


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how I shall leave it to dust away.

You have a great name for fertility,

but the woman carved from you barrenssteel.

What is the essence of your rockiness

who cannot crunch but rooms my grave?

Earth!


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32 e e e e

Horizons

Of mountains and trees.

From afar touching the welkin;

deceptive to my eye, serpentine.

Trees of endless journeying to heaven,

and clouds racing to the rocks:

all lies of his sweet mouth.

A luscious child of Nature

drawing my desires to her,

that to her ends may I come,

yet, distances away by same measure.


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In Rainbow s

In rainbow's garden,

I saw a wonder:

The rain was an archer,

stronger than Cupid was.

The bow was light

and fast and furious.

The garden had grey soil,

that says, I'll deluge.

There was fear among men,

fear of the warrior's arrows:

he was mighty and fearful,

who can kill a whole city,

in one shot of several arrows.


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34 e e e e

Then, rainbow knew this fear,

and came to shed tears,

to console and tell

all men to not fear.

He plucked flowers

of priceless bands,

and sprayed them skyly

in enormous wastefulness.

In rainbow's garden,

this wonder I saw.


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Plains

Where big moos graze

and there is a maze:

the awe to behold, too,

plains.

Field within fields,

home of the wavering grass,

of the proud greenness of earth,

of mimicking plants, plains.

Thinking of itself a queen,

pompously dancing to winds,

and to sun stands galivanting,

enticing womanly souls to take a walk, plains.

Straws there are found,


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36 e e e e

and some dusty grains that are sticky,

wanting to survive,

but making stress the bypasser, plains.

Where the shepherd delightly go,

or milk shall not overflow,

pastures browning in harmattan,

to override in rains again, plains.


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Some Gem

Damsels without breaths within.

They draw affection of the rich and poor:

root of trees of wealth, and blank covet.

In their core lies the secret,

not in their eyes.

For their whites enchants your soul,

and the spell bounds for eternal doom.

Their core is magnetic,

who pulls all monies to command.

They are one enchantress

whose dynamics casts your heart

into her gourd forever.

Do not look them into the eye;

but use your eye to see them.


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38 e e e e

They have the charms of glistening,

glimmerers like wandering stars without.

Let them not eye you,

not ruby who rubs your palm of toil,

nor gold who guns your gut for more.

They are rare,

and some gem.


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Son, Behold

Son, behold the great circle,

in his humbility,

who prides over vanity

little of his biceps.

He runs into the plants,

and fights their slumbering jailers:

in onefinger punch, their sleeps are overcome,

and they free the workers for day's toil.

For he knows he has fire, but others matches,

though he is matchless,

he runs into their wonderlands,

and slaps their eyes into blurry reality.

There is a spark in his face,


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one that burns hell into ashes.

He winks at soil and land,

and every wails it hurts.

Son, behold his broad chest,

which he carries to war plantnets.

He wins them all might'ly

and draws as slaves orb'tly.

He has a face that betrays grace,

when he is furious, all burns.

He has a strand of hair falling:

northen lights, southern lights.


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The Plamist s Psalm

I met one to tell the future,

who, taking fronds and water,

and sprinkling for idols,

and on my palms,

told but tails of the animipast.

Tallness, pride of Africa,

denying the reaching of hands,

for which gods truncate his desires

to touch the beautiful sky,

his secret mistress.

Widely does spread his arms;

in loose gladness suffers no softness;

of service to men,

yet wishes they climbbow before him.


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42 e e e e

If man must broom away evils,

either on the floor, or ritely yearly,

to his person must come for preworship.

To this esteem raises his head high.

He has little children,

tears of whom are oily,

when they miss there comforts

in a faraway.

The plamist sang of its barkness,

harder than the dog's.

A sweet song of its essence,

ugly beauty from whom I learnt.


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The Rocks

From little pebbles that blind can

to mountains of hilly chill,

they are great rocks.

One is climbed and other, trampled;

steep slips away for they have a tangent.

Hard faces blandly staring,

of some fibres thickly within earth.

The glassy eye, the burning brims and lavas;

The sediments have steps of sentiments.

Metamorphs, words beyond stony knowledge:

glueing of two in one.

Some churns from cores of stomachs,

and some uply heights to gruntclimb.

If caves one in them, they betray in bony ghosts.


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Homes of skywandering rodents,

and views of fossils deathness;

giants of first order, fathers of fertile soil,

and of beautiful earth,

dust — from whom I came.


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The Stars

Wanderers of the night,

peeping with eyes into sky's window.

Little children these are,

who watch with twinkling eyes.

They wear grey cloths,

dark lips but fiery eyes.

Vagabonds peeking into other worlds,

but the knowledges say:

they are suns of other worlds.

May I ask?

Who does mother aimless nightwalkers?

Who does milk these sons?

They have no mercy of spells,


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who can enchant the dead – does –

for they stare beyond the trods and grassly waves

and the worms that bore and the pores from roots

into the heavenness of their living.

They can stab the knowledge of the wise,

scattered in numbers that defies mathematics.

Infinity is bound to nought,

for they exceed in numbers.

Who is the genius behind this?

Who is the spirit that I do not hail?

For their terrible existence is laud.


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The Vale

Large to steep away all rolling stones,

and vast with the spaces of numberlessnness,

the vale

holds views of beauty, first earth's seed's beauties,

and grumblings of shatters of the broken soils.


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48 e e e e

W aters of Waters

Waiting to receive my swimming,

to clog my throat and make me choke,

soul whose grace coldens my helling chill.

I shall float in the buoyancy of the dead

and see a sight of sour salt.

I shall swim to loss in the triangle

to worship the ghosts of bermuda.

I shall sink within atlantis' breastmilk,

the mother of my home.

Liquids, how tormenting their smell –

nothing at all, your nose betrays,

for they bribe all of your ears in nights –

little drops from the welkin

who wash away the blemish of the city,

all running in a race to the congregation,


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Dear Reader, thanks a lot for reading this wonderful poetry book on

dark romance, both for learning and for pleasure. I hope at the end of all, the said meets the want and the mind is filled as full.

You can as well get three other poetry books that are written by me.They are:

Love on the Pine

Love and Lovers Vol. 1

The Grey Hair and the Gaberdine


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Dark Romance Volume I