|
A poem by Ayomide Wes Oriolowo  There is something about discovering
That your body can hold water That makes you forget breathing Takes you to a place where water in your lungs makes your body tick/makes it feel more alive than it should. You call it your type of madness. You hope to live long enough in the feeling that a poem takes roots and holds your body to the ground. Soon, you shame figures with air flowing through their body. You ponder - why the body, holding such wonder, would keep letting it go. In your body, ghosts talk and the air turns to water. You are the moon- Perforated on the surface- Light so lost on your body you have no idea where to look. Then your body, One day, drops And all your flowers come spilling out from your mouth Only there For others to pick Only there For the earth to swallow.
6 Comments
Joseph Hope
1/11/2021 10:05:47 am
Great one. How the writer takes on grief using extended metaphors to describe the undescribable. One time you think you need the grief to prove you're alive. Then the other time the grief become a pest draining your life essence from you. And you remain suspended between different forms of torment. 22/11/2021 04:22:53 pm
Love how the writer did justice to explaining how grief can leave one choked, and sometimes dead to being useful in the whole essence of benefitting humanity. 22/11/2021 04:35:53 pm
Love how the writer did justice to explaining how grief can leave one choked, and sometimes dead to being useful in the whole essence of benefitting humanity. 22/11/2021 04:36:34 pm
Love how the writer did justice to explaining how grief can leave one choked, and sometimes dead to being useful in the whole essence of benefitting humanity. 22/11/2021 04:37:02 pm
Love how the writer did justice to explaining how grief can leave one choked, and sometimes dead to being useful in the whole essence of benefitting humanity.
Zion Olatunji
23/11/2021 09:37:33 am
I love the imaginations of this writer! Leave a Reply. |