Posted by: Ron DuBour | May 15, 2017

if you get to your house safe~by Ayoola Goodness Olanrewaju


 

 

if you get to your house safe

a pill of poetry. i shall keep my head sane. my city is driving
me crazy. she has the fang of
fire. i burn everywhere. she wants me
to give up. give up my body. and give up the ghost.

a boy roams in my bones. he holds a map
looking for home in his home. a room to breathe. he is scared.
i want to stop him. i want to tell him the night here
is a sky safe to flaunt stars. that
romeo must die is fiction. he looks back. men like dark storms
hold fire. i say to him. run. i do not know when i say. run! if
you get to your house safe. thank your stars.

i still find reasons we are this humiliation
enough to suffocate the world. a play thing. and
there is no healing in this land.

the president knows. he flies again to find healing. what man
finds healing outside his house? we are wingless. tomorrow
we shall make again posters of pleas for
our sick brothers: 2 million for surgery in india. the government will
not see it. they are not president. london is for sacred
cows. mortuary is home for minors.
we will hear it again. death is not the end. a minute silence for our fallen
hoes. is this the way to be green?

tomorrow we shall be forced—crippled crows
for another ailing-phant entry.
and if we refuse to kowtow blessed be our president. they
shall raise stones. if
you get to your house safe. thank your stars.

we hope. there is a day we will walk into hope.
the valley of death. and
weave life into dead bones. we will
walk into the fire. and the lord will send us rain. we hope. and
some end up in the rope.

welcome to the table—the national cake is here. we sit at the
table. bread is war and tea is blood. the chef says
if we want more. there
is always bread and tea. we frown at poli—ticks. they show us the gun.
we eat one another. we drink one another. if you get to your house
safe. thank your stars.

i am getting sick of my city. the world
and women. a man butchers his
wife. and men are again nailed to the harsh tags and
trash—our fathers. our brothers. innocent boys like us. the
women blab. they say things to puff feminism
fists and fire. they do not know. a man kills here. another
woman kills there. a woman another man tomorrow. another man a woman. the
world is wicked. if you get to your house safe. thank your stars.

a pill of poetry. i shall keep my head sane. my city is driving
me crazy. she has the fang of
fire. i burn everywhere. she wants me
to give up. give up my body. and give up the ghost.

i just hope. the road is safe to my house.

Ayoola Goodness ©2017

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Responses

  1. Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.


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