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Familiar Chaos
No new kind of chaos
just the old kinds in new clothings
like an oversized shirt trimmed fit
of vogues and diminuendos.
Is it this white horse in me that is new
trying to stand but which I suppress?
Or this untamed bird I rare inside
pecking at all my memorabilia?
Is it the old ailments with new labels
or new creations with old inspirations?
Is it this rudderless ship we all sail in
that has been for ages unnoticed?
Is it the throne gulping like a can of malt
or of minerals turned soft drinks?
Is it of shepherds with hidden fangs
or of bloodsucking sheep?
Is it of proud wicks kinked
and lights covered with fog?
Or of loud voices calling out
but muffled with quiet fluffs?
This storm is not the one we saw
not powered by the same source
nor causing the same effect
yet not a new kind of chaos.
© Imole Olusanya
just the old kinds in new clothings
like an oversized shirt trimmed fit
of vogues and diminuendos.
Is it this white horse in me that is new
trying to stand but which I suppress?
Or this untamed bird I rare inside
pecking at all my memorabilia?
Is it the old ailments with new labels
or new creations with old inspirations?
Is it this rudderless ship we all sail in
that has been for ages unnoticed?
Is it the throne gulping like a can of malt
or of minerals turned soft drinks?
Is it of shepherds with hidden fangs
or of bloodsucking sheep?
Is it of proud wicks kinked
and lights covered with fog?
Or of loud voices calling out
but muffled with quiet fluffs?
This storm is not the one we saw
not powered by the same source
nor causing the same effect
yet not a new kind of chaos.
© Imole Olusanya
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