THE WORD OF TOMORROW
In this poem,
a poltergeist hermit sings:
Fire & sticks & red hot metals & pins-
terrorising the abysmal truth of a necropolis
& the mouth of gloom spits into eyes.
Gridlock havocs the ecstasy,
the edges of our eyes. Knives
pierce the stomachs of bleeding rivers
& bore holes like the fontanelles of newborns.
Tree barks & the communion of nurture.
He sings with the voice of his cremated mother
& with divine unholiness, he says:
Placate me, grains of the unseen
Drink it, wine of the foreseen.
The fetters of fire became keys of water
The pain of daisies turns into the
shivers & trembles of cineraria.
One precious crux hidden behind an unfelled
tree & the ocean of blame was let loose.
In other poems,
He sings a capella
in the orchestra of silence
& the buttress of shame uprooted.
His father crucified on the cross of his mistakes
& his blood used to write the history
of forgotten gods – war memorabilia.
A story stuck between his teeth
He pulls it out and realizes that it’s
the memoir of his father.
I’m Nwaoha Chibuzor Anthony, a poet who lives and writes from Orlu, a sleepy city in Eastern Nigeria. My works have appeared in nantygreens, African writer, Kalahari review and elsewhere.