A River of Honey and Other Poems

A River Of Honey

This love is an Enugu themed
story of survival;
of weeds growing
through cracks in concrete pavements.
Its words are melodies
and its voice is a crushed
For in bars
painted the silent colours
of cobalt blue,
it crouches in corners blowing smoke,
trying to quench fires.
This love is a river of
honey filled with thorns,
filled with picture frames of men
burning in a sea of rubber,
men embalmed in blood
from the marrow of their own bones;
those that held it in the dark
and twisted it till
their souls snapped
and ice poured from the
hollow sockets of their eyes.
This love is a man
filled with keyless symphonies,
engorged with the cheers of mobs
as they watch him burn
in front of his mother.
This love is a boy
crying on the bank of
a running river,
all his life.

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Four Poems

All images by Rosie Olang
The New Romantics

No one forced you to stand in those queues.
You did it yourself.
You were brothers on those queues, you were sisters on those queues, and mothers, and fathers, sons and daughters.
You queued to vote.
There you were in the company of strangers with joy leaping out of your throat and wrapping itself around everybody. Your wide open mouth discharged flocks of twittering sunbirds ready to feast on the fragrant nectar of your laughter.
You forgot the lesson your mother taught you, never open your heart to strangers. Now see; these strangers are as familiar as family.

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Two Poems

The Old Guitarist
(for N, at Pasara)
The narrow stairwell winds up in dim light
while pop culture, frozen in time, watches
or averts it gaze- smoking, dreaming:
Pulp Fiction, Boulevard of Broken Dreams,
Lady Day and them.

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