Prints
prints are … left overs of dreams
like spittle in the mouth after an unsavoury meal
or remnant meat
stuck stubbornly in the craw
prints are … dust that swirls but never settles
reminding us of all we wish forgotten
coating out lies with truth and
destroying our false affirmations of wellness
prints are … sins of long ago
that lay undead
never forgotten nor forgiven
forever crying to be avenged
Of this Silence
when the fires in our tongue quench in blood
and the shallow faith in our hearts blacken with heresy
we shall rise in silence
proclaiming the gospel of tomorrow’s yesterday with hunger moans
we shall mumble at the top of our voices
in harmonious melody with the scorpion’s sting in our heels
we shall march under the fiery stillness of this barbarous sun
we shall grumble from this pit of misery
probing their false promises of plenty
old path to the light of darkness
Since we do not understand the manna
that falls from this sky
we shall laugh sorrowfully
using tongues pregnant with curses
we shall chew our daughters and swallow our sons
in a bid to subdue this insatiable hunger
we shall fall in love with the unlovable
espousing this choking silence with spangled sighs
and smoky lungs
until eternal silence sets us free
Broken Fence
The bubble has broken
The fence has burst
No holds bar the weepy rivulets of my mauled mind
Forever scarred by doubts and deeds
Eagerly longing … for the abyss.
A lover of soulful music, Ezekanne F. Paschal is a Nigerian poet who constantly draws inspiration from the sound of silence as he straddles the two worlds-Poetry and reality the best he can. His works have appeared on Praxis Magazine, Zenpens and elsewhere.
