Love finds its way
I speak of peer envy and the errors of youth
I speak of the rage of sexes, and the shouts of spouses
I speak of a war beginning in homes and the drama of the court
I speak of power-drunk warlords sacrificing feeble minds at the altar might
I speak of virgins mating with trees, rocks and beasts
I speak of the pain of unknowing and the arrogance of a full stinking storage
I speak of the desecration of the mind by the proliferation of malice
I speak of heart-abuse as sordid spits get dumped in it
I shudder and look away
But can a poet look away
And expect to wake at dawn?
I embody the life of all I see and sense
Can I shut my eyes and drag them all to Hades
No,
I’ll rather scream till I am hoarse
Yet,
I no longer need to scream
For the love I bear is enough to bandage wounds
And kiss sorrows away, close the eyes of the night
And call out to the rays which peak through the window
Indeed when the soured child looks up to
The full breasts of the pear, let him suck to his fill
When the wayward fingers of the husband fondles
The loose ends of Madam’s wrap-around, guide his hands.
And when she whispers his name in the dead of the night
Draw all of her into your arms
For love has a game which in itself is enthralling.
Iowa City
Fresh, compact, can fit into a teenager’s bra
Not exactly what many a man would drool over
Yet Sages with heads for beauty never quite manage
To turn away their eyes at such lushness, bliss tucked in greenery
Like nipple of abiding joys, milk of the raffia stock, sequestered
Writers being three of every five in the street
Bloom and burst with multiple inspirations
Filling the sidewalks with sweet scented silences—sublime.
Ogochukwu Promise is a psychologist, novelist, poet, playwright and essayist. She lives and works in Lagos, Nigeria
