poem by Onyeka C. Arah
overwhelmed and under-held,
in my bed i hold myself,
tell her what i told My Self
at her age, when i felt
like whisper-tones replaced our yells,
so none could hear said cries for help;
out of sight, back of shelf;
under pressure, nearing knell,
facing cards unfairly dealt:
sappy returns beget rejection
stamp out stones that stem from home
and stick with children into old
agency should say to me
no need to grasp at strawberries
to slide in slot machinery (variety of heart)
garbage is to greenery what letters are to want.
a place-mark in the graveyard you long to label love.
when ghosts put cards in post, of course,
address there will be none.”
that is to say,
I will be done
unearthing bits and pieces from
an era more controlled (to some) —
patrolling safety; heartbeat racing,
my cautious cares a-scatter.
& windy weather wouldn’t matter,
since doubt cannot compete with laughter.
meantime, heart-shaped key-lime gets to
rising in the oven…
pied piper comes correct
when so-called ‘gentlemen’ get stubborn
neglect to mail the cheque and
You can bet on losing Loved one.