Be Home to Our Memories
By Mbanefo Chibuike
The morning we decided to leave home
you spoke the language of the legs,
turning our bodies into the ravenous night -
from watching the sun rise into mother's face
to our eyes feeding off the lush vegetation.
You fold our memories into this emptiness
my mother's hands -
in us, you paint a picture of sojourners
whose shadows remain erased in the sun -
and you this mournful recollection
stranding our new beginnings between trees.
Old things continue to lead our hopes
over the faces of these colossal ruins
our tender legs constantly asking our hearts when we'd return -
and then you'll try to pull these thoughts off the sands
into the bags our heads hold dear.
To flee from this sudden heat burning our trembling bodies
is to negotiate our ways into a calm night.
But for how long do you walk somewhere endless thence
how does a mother explain self-exile to the baby on her back
that footprints are responses to war -
and peace is a cloudless sky drawing names into solitude.
When all of our bodies become one
you'll wreck me each time I try to call you,
and when you speak of resurrections
I'll become as brittle as daytime
for tomorrow's stories will begin
with these memories rowing a girl home.
Read More about the Author Here - www.nigerianwriters.info/mbanefo-chibuike
6/4/2021 07:02:33 am
I just mentally lived this poem. Beautiful!
Ojo Olumide Emmanuel
6/4/2021 07:17:16 pm
This poem tells a story of a woman being maltreated and then a child innocently subjected to the ruins of a broken home. With griefs bottled in the heart of the woman; the child is also a broken antique of this callousness and the memories it evokes aren't bright like rainbows rather they a dull like a night of veiled moon.
Ojo Olumide Emmanuel
6/4/2021 07:19:09 pm
This poem tells a story of a woman being maltreated and then a child innocently subjected to the ruins of a broken home. With griefs bottled in the heart of the woman; the child is also a broken antique of this callousness and the memories it evokes aren't bright like rainbows rather they are dull like a night of veiled moon.
9/4/2021 04:05:31 pm
This poem is so beautiful. I could picture the scenes in my head. Vivid imagery. Good use of words. Amazing metaphors. You killed it.
30/4/2021 07:50:03 pm
Beautiful sentences. Nice metaphors. But I find this poem a tad bit difficult to understand. Like his other poems, Mbanefo writes about social issues in the most alluring ways. I’m guessing this poem also tackled a social issue but I am not sure which. I want to say it’s about oppression or about survival or war.
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