Plus one
The
divide of sanity and psychological deficiency is enquiry!
Is
this for nights upturned?
And
glasses of red shrouded as hazy
Unpainted
conversations of the day?
As
with the sun and heat
So
is it with success and the streets
Down
the creeks, and daddies’ dream is still very loud,
Like
his voice, it can’t be ignored
My
world has not changed
But
My
fear has,
It
has grown,
Grown
thicker,
Thicker than me the curator,
I
have lived, and these times live with me,
As
now, when my dreams come alive,
But
sometimes not with me, I only see them
Televised
and printed
I
have cried, tears well enough to serve
The
neighborhoods backyard,
I
have smiled, very unnecessarily,
To
friends? Yes!
But
to you, why?
You!
*sigh*
I
have made love to the beautiful unrehearsed cosmic complexities,
And
still no scanner can tell the sex of these babies
Tomorrow's
pregnancy might be aborted,
Bur
how plausible,
When
we neither know what tomorrow brings,
Nor
does it need our sperms for its ovaries.
I
am the black Prado, commodore for deaths unknown,
For
causes unheard of, yet I must follow,
For
they have given me reason not to.
I
am not your ghost,
I
am not your pain
I
am not your failure
I
am not the answers to your questions,
Questions
that never existed, only because nobody asked,
Because
I never asked
I
am the wind, soothing dry skins and parched minds,
Feeding
hollow brains and constructing bricks of disconcerted continuity
I
have given less for more,
Given
more or less
Just
for a night with the twinkle of stars on the red carpet,
A
grey would also do.
I
am new, the newest version of me
The
new newest on the same old block, where nothing really can be new,
Because
everyone there is old,
Older
than the separateness and assimilation
Twenty
six years down the lane, and I still wonder.....
‘Seun Ige
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