The Bows

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 28, 2018

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Submitted: January 28, 2018

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The Bows

By John Jimoh

The bows are not in the size

A lie is told if it is

The bows are not in the demand

A lie is told if it is

The bows smile not at charades

A lie is told if it is

The bows throw its weight on reputes

Such a truism I know not in my age

The bows linger on earnings

A scintillating order of nature

The bows mourn at travesty

Matching the tread of extinction

Lobby punches blows at bows

Yet not a dim of compromise

It twinkles in excellence

Flourishes in fame and legendary

Whacking the red cap mechanically

From the head of the subject

With undaunted applauses squashing

Both hands in rhythmic order

The world goes wild over its itinerary

Its bang over a district portends

Prosperity in the face of all

Hurling penury unfair justice

Lifting more ovations to the bows of

Time and tide that bud from diligence

In the face of curiosity and ineptitude

 


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