LISTEN TO YOURSELF
- Where is a word to hold the edge of blue waters
when the waves wrestle
like rival wives? Where is a word to hold a woman
when she runs,
runs, runs…where is a word to stamp out a fire
when a sky has no
Listen to yourself.
Listen to the gossip of seas,
up Nombolisa’s cooking stones.
Listen to derelict hope
hangers at the green lights.
Listen to the man you cannot touch
manacled children, the rubbished innocence.
- Noon, under a sun that’s lost its fire,
your blue harp slakes its thirst
stretching its chords, wings of fire,
arching on tiptoes, a
unearthing the ages, like a
baby hungrily thrusting a nipple
into her mouth. Harp digging for treasure,
here l am, a pearl
sitting on my bum.
Offer me a dance, pull me close,
nourish my braids
and l shall
ascend, rung by rung,
past the corridors of rust,
the aching rivers,
past the lips l cannot kiss.
I shall stand on the
by the waters of rest.
- We had silence like nowhere else
barkless dogs, babies sleeping in
strollers. We had the miracle of first fruits,
pristine air, a
budding spring.We had a garden of potato fries,
we owned a lake –
full of laughter.
You and l and a mountain road.
We had a mascot
preserved by the force of dreams.
We were triumphant, we knew
hungry and thirsty, we licked the dew
off the face of morning.
© Toyin Adewale-Gabriel