This poem is longlisted for BN Poetry Award.
Fruit of my womb I beg to stay away And let you build bridges To carve sculptures of our souls To read invisible lines of Holy books To find meaning in meaningless lines And hope from tombs left for so long Mother will be back
Let me find one like us, for us to become one
As your spine gives your body posture So does the rhythm of our blood play upright music? You are my last winter bird My twins gave hope My smile gave pride But we’re little termites with big hearts We need our scraggy feet for paths we haven’t crossed
Let me find one like us, for us to become one
The roses of our hearts have a charity case The sidelines of our thoughts need ironing We consume a variety of edibles to keep ourselves strong It is a hard claim to live up to, Son I recall your baby steps And maps you left on the seabed after a longer drought. Our change is forbidden but still
Let me find one like us, for us to become one
I will write these lines on paper For the crowd to listen to our acapella My name was lonely Your father’s name was pain We covered your eyes from the world For us to clean the dirt under our nails Your life is a yearned cliché I cry
Let me find one like us, for us to become one
We have few pieces of joy Will we suffocate on these solitary streets? No Son. We need history and tales For kisses woke up the Queens and portions made Kingdoms sleep Hold my hand to seal these words Feel the scent from unseen paradises As we beseech the mercies of prayer and faith
Let me find one like us, for us to become one.
- TAGS
- Adhiamno Agoro
- BN Poetry Award
- My Son