THE SONG OF LEAKS AND CALABASHES
I leak away in words
I cannot hold inside God.
I leak away in the promises
I am not enough to keep.
The hole under this calabash emptying it
Was made by a needle meant to repair a crack,
And most people I love to boat away
In me keep drilling holes for decor.
My space is where other voices parked silence,
And I cannot knit the peace to birth words
Hard enough to erect volcanic mountains.
I can remember things large as the globe
But I forget to clean my mind
Swimming through the mud of the world.
I leak away, my mind still unfenced
Like a bomb blast armored by air.
with this existence,
sometimes the ocean is still enough to drown in,
though it is mainly filled with salt & the color of the sky.
the body only wears the silence
of the earth when dead.
maybe mother earth when left alone
& this raindrop falling
not of the earth
maybe the mind unlike the ocean
can clean itself.
STILL LIFE WITH SILENCE
The silence in the attic
Is a contribution from all things
Capable of silence, like God.
Perhaps colorless words get leached
Into a vacuum in walls. Laughter too.
Glee is rumored to come in any color
Given lack of color is also color.
I have not lived here,
But I know the walls:
May accept any color I give them;
Will not hang my scream up
Like this portrait of a mouth
Already bunged up with dust
To tell whether the body wears
Past bloodless pains as a decoration
Of ostrich feathers on its head
Or that the mouth hides wailing
To invite in laughter.
Or that the Earth moves on, painless
As a fossil of a dinosaur’s burnt bone.
MEMORANDUM OF MIS/UNDERSTANDING
Is that my faith somersaulting
My flaws are as submissive
|Their tails are wrapping
My arms.With only Your apple stolen from You,
I shall run to You whenever deprived,
Only until all my flaws are stolen.
I am bleeding in words.
These rocks have pink stripes.
|An egg falls and
Generations of feathers
Are yellow on the floor.
|Is the earth globing lava or water?
What if a river is pushed against its will?
What’s your take on breaking
A march of ants with a giant granite barricade?
My silence is decomposing the leaves.
…to be given something I cannot use,
|Will I postpone my breath?
Some baboons eat half a fruit,
Is there a cost for everything I carry?
The flowers, wet at the core are still waving.
The town priest built a wall capped
This path must start where the first one ends.
Has my body been traveled by feet not mine?
Sometimes, I wake up to footfalls of emptiness.
Did you agree the bodies You make
|Walls are decaying with waiting.
Flowers are returning.
My horn is still louder than I blow.
My grandmother says, ‘hide a peanut
Paste in your hand behind your back
And it will leak away’
Poems (c) Marial Awendit
Image: (c) Sola Osofisan