By Komlan A Aloysh
Poem: In here
Fear. Tension. Anxiety.
Spend their wild times with me daily,
Fill my head and pump my heart in shapeless forms and pieces.
I lift up my flaccid heart to get through the coarse day.
I’m in here, staring under power pressed against me,
Barely grasping my breath in this virulent atmosphere,
Filled with noxious stain of fresh blood, gushing the streets.
Oh.. mama, though the ocean breaks our physical space,
I am constantly reminded that you are in my presence.
Oh.. mama, I call you daily because I’m in here,
Where fear and tension visit me daily through the back doors.
Your voice draws you closer to me,
comforts and gives me hope that,
I can still breathe while suffocating under this intemperate force,
Pressed against my helpless and innocent body.
I call you daily because every day appears to be my last;
I call you daily because I may not hang on too long;
My breath sinks deeper and deeper.
I weep each time our precious time screams its own name,
Knowing it could be our last.
Oh.. mama, my heart sinks deeper
And deeper in the dark abyss of fear.
Oh.. mama, Please know that I love you,
Please know that you are all that I have in this world.
I’m in here, knowing that I may not hang on too long,
My breath fades away slowly with intensity like a cold night candle,
Flickering its fatigued hand.
If my soft voice fades away,
Know that I have given up my hand to impatient time;
Know that I have suffocated under this gratuitous force.
I’m in here and every day is the day I fight to take just a light breath,
If time is kind enough.
Poem: Losing the Eyes of Expectation
My mind pushed me calmly with
its soft hands,
raised its eyes high above what I could imagine.
It reminded me that Paradise has a twin sister here
with us on Earth,
where everything is polished and glimmers.
When opportunity paid me a convivial visit
to go and see Paradise’s twin sister,
wallowed in irrepressible joy,
I carried with me the heavy weight of expectation and blindness
painted inside me with colourless crayons.
I arrived where Paradise’s twin sister meets her countless delusional visitors,
yet I still requested to be in her magical presence.
Until I was reminded that she’s the one standing before me,
I had lived in the time that mind had shown me,
Hinged to its void,
Lost to its soft words and hidden deception.
I have lost the eyes of expectation,
I have faced reality shining in plain sight,
and everything is just like all that I left behind where I came from.
Poem: The Moon’s Dim Stare
I saw the moon last night for the first time in a long time;
it stared at me with fatigued eyes like a defeated wrestler,
making me wonder where it has been all this while.
I realized that it has not gone anywhere;
it has been around stretching its eyes in recognition,
but the luminosity of artificial lights blurs its stare.
But it reminded me that it's still around - and still staring
vaguely, hoping to be recognized again.