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Forced Little Words: Poems by Rudolph Adidi

Image: Unsplash.com

FORCED little WORDS

We find them in the corner of our eyes
at the rear of our tongues.
Sometimes, they exist between our lips
in the holes we call nose.

I see them, waving like hairs
in the ocean that never dries
I see how they come in their numbers
I count them like I count the wind.

They lurk in-between the spaces of my fingers
When we speak, their words ride with our voices
They exist in silence, in enduring quiet,
Amongst tiny sparks of twilight.

They prevail, in balls of aura
Forever fixed, unrolling.
Jugs in hands, I see them in the heads of shades,
beneath the ground, in conversation with unearthly roots.

I hear them in the accent of time, see them in the ascent of days
trying so hard to hide,
They forget they’re twice themselves in a day.

Do you not see life, like sin?
Parched on your black skin
wearing transgressions like mine?
Dance to the rhythm of death
To the music of the living.

I hear their drums in my heart.
I feel their presence on all things
do you feel as I do?
Feel the same way, too?

I hear they come from heaven,
I hear they live in hell.
They have lived before me
have rode through ages with fore’ guardians
Deriding their souls in contempt,

I hear they followed Jesus, left last at his supper,
and held close his faith after his fate.

Do you know them too,
where they come from?
existing more than one, beyond two,
In a world of nothingness.

————–

TO DEAD LOVERS

My lover is a dead wind
blowing across the ocean

Lifeless, lost, bearing the stench of death
On the lips of my sword, she paints the colour of love.

Her soul is trapped in these words
These words, a constant reminder

Of the times we shared,
the path we walked

Flowing like iced water
Her frost guards my fire.

My lover is a death wish
blown from the lips of dying stars
Stars that brighten my skyward path
In supplication for the carcass of dead roses

I am the lover of my lover
Raging to yank her petals, to stain these flowerbeds with gold crust
With love, like sweat, pouring from my deepest pores.

In my love, I offer couplets as gifts
Only for the seers, for those who find my eyes

Now dried, that sun rays might stream down.

Twice have I found love
Twice have I sunk

Once, I sank into day
Twice I birthed night

Once I kissed the lips of today
Twice, it gave me you.

Is my Lot the salt of pain?
How shall I heal these invisible wounds?

I am dying to meet my lover!
I am my lover’s lover!

No longer does my lover’s key dangle
in-between the legs of the moon

There are no waves
On the face of the sea
Like me, my lover is a dead wind!
————–

Poems © Rudolph Adidi
Image: Unsplash.com

Rudolph Adidi
Rudolph Adidi
Clenching the art of the spoken word, Rudolph 'RUDDAPOET' Adidi was conceived and for him poetry became second nature. Born inspired upon the green hills of Central Nigeria in Jos, Plateau State, Rudolph inspires through his poetry and art, resonating the romance and freedom of Nature's Priests, William Wordsworth, Langston Hughes, Edgar Allan Poe, Khalil Gibran, Carl Hertnon, Leonell Echa, just to mention a few, combined with the depth and passion of 21st century legend Chinua Achebe, Rud-DA-Poet expresses himself in a style original to him-Urban Poetry. This Architecture major is a crusader in that field. Ruddapoet is a multiple award winning spoken word poet who has claimed many stages around the country and commands both sides of the human brain with Architectural Poetry!

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