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Writer's pictureAyo Okikiolu

Sing, One Must.

Updated: Jan 8, 2021



Sing, One Must.

I’ve been

singing a tune that never ends

singing and singing and singing and singing

by living and breathing, dreaming and speaking

Singing is the only thing I’ve been doing.


To wake is to sing

A breath, my first note:

Bathe, I pray!

Or ignore the alarm today?

Opera, or a folk-sounding tale?


I think and I sing

Good tunes, Bad dins

Beautiful compositions delivered horribly

Tragedi tunes and bouts of comedi

All dwell in the space behind my lips.


In Allegory and Simplicity, then I speak

tunes of praise and that of glory

musical fails and things that are holy

evil words that end with gory

Sing on, not or lovely.


Walk to the market; drive to the school

Fly through the internet; Break all the rules

Birds and animals care little of my talent

Nature is concerned only about my rent

Blankets of shame, many songs of regret.


Yet ahhhh,

When my song is a patter an’ the the tunes of life, incredulous,

Sped on and on, past both wondrous and non-momentous,

Remaining one steeped in important and superfluous

I am the very model of a simple person who sings


Within memes in moments where it seems

my thoughts are trapped in crowd-seams

within garments of thoughts that Popular screams

like the sort of songs people sing blindly for teams

represent my life as-Ole, ole, ole, ole. Ole! Ole!


A life of the troubadour is my only duty

because ‘ere and ther’, everyone on earth sings

although we all sing the same different things

Stars, Normo’s, Losers, and Has-Beens

have the exact same obligation to be.


To be is to be a bard,

composing tunes with intention or not

hum, scream, pout, or read robotic lyrics

with enormous skill or overcome with tics

alone, in duo, or trio, or choral pius.


An action---sing. A relationship---sing.

A fight---sing. Love---sing. Sleep---sing.

In the morn, at nite and midday

As I stand and as I delay

I sing


A cacophony, euphony, symphony, homophony, polyphony of existence

Which is it?

Which is it?!

Which is it?!!

Makes zero sense.


Folly

I recognise a phony.

My heart does then recompense

This melodic, requisite life-incense

Now and Hence...

...sing.


One must.

 

©2020 by Ayo Okikiolu.

 

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