Poets Don’t Sleep

In this book, the author has mirrored the lifestyle of poets, having worn the spectacles of his own experiences, to be one that bridges a far gap with sleep, makes little or no ally with sleep, breaks ties with sleep, bows not to the seductive snares of sleep, burning the cleavages of sleep in their eyes, and as well, enslave sleep as a puppet whose wings can always be clenched…

In this book, the author has mirrored the lifestyle of poets, having worn the spectacles of his own experiences, to be one that bridges a far gap with sleep, makes little or no ally with sleep, breaks ties with sleep, bows not to the seductive snares of sleep, burning the cleavages of sleep in their eyes, and as well, enslave sleep as a puppet whose wings can always be clenched under the arms of their paramilitary choices during the slumbers of the day and the snores of the night so as to always have their pen bleed spontaneously and unrepentantly in ink and on-screen, just as the poetic pseudonym of the author also implies in extension, “Pen Bleeds”, in a quest to always fulfil all the righteousness of musings.