Post Mortem

 For Victoria and Michael 


       I

What are smiles 

if they fade easy? 

a young leaf falls off  

into wind’s wings 

settling brown.

a fruit unripe

 drops. rots.

and earth says its fair. 

all dreams 

  unsailed,

and earth says its fair. 
      

        II


Where you once were

(somewhere deeper than here) 

   – a fire, 

now a larger fire.

I don’t know where you are.

if a god or a fiend welcomes you,

bathe in flames or flowers.

I know you know how well to make joy out of everything.

If i could write in water.

If i could write in water.

Hello good people. I can no longer pretend to be young. Adulthood reminds me of that every time .  But i discovered that poetry and love  allows me to always be young, naive and careless.

So to prevent adulting, i have penned down these memories, emotions in a very personal and  brutally honest way.

I am pretty sure for anyone who has loved young or loved wild, or runs into the arms of the moon at night, lonely and in fear of  loving. These poems are for you.

🖤

Yours,

Chiedozie Danjuma.

 

 

If i could write in water by O. Chiedozie Kelechi Danjuma

Immaculata

​You say I write so I have the words sometimes it fails like now 

it’s failing no sense in any word to describe you on the bed sheets 

planets are orbiting my head heaven is cloistered in a small room 

sun inside your legs an apparition immaculate no words no words

 just light glistening light. 

Invocation

​For these flowers would still bloom for you, even in concrete.


I call this alchemy,

I call it magic,

 My soul is knit, and the entire tapestry 

is a single feeling of complete. 

this must be how God feels.

 of what use is the universe if I cannot breed your warmth?

this is where I have put my breath, in your petals, lily, 

in your petals,

twin moon to my world

i have cast my nets into the sea that is your eyes,

& I’d remain ashore,

you who is air, end & a cluster of flowers burst in rain,

I would throw your name into the afternoon wind, 

stretching it into the corners of places distant, 

I would say I love you in different tongues,

I would write it on your tongue.

Burnt

Burnt

Broad street,  Lagos, 

I am walking into you again,

into streets and scents familiar. 

purple. laughter & natural hair

days have passed without me knowing home,

long walks. lone nights & air

those raindrops

did not 

fall,

they gathered

in my eyes

and formed a dripping song 

into the mouth of

the canary who sings of lost distances

 & a man broken. a man bare,

hugging the wind tightly

and naming it after you.

‘say k’

say it like Yahweh.
a part of you is on everything 

created and yet made,

touch- boundless.
i am walking into you again,

wildfire familiar.
pic credit : Kosoluchi 

Nostalgia 

Nostalgia 

If you would turn,

that is,

cast just a single gaze at me,

you would see the  river that  leads back home.

It’s waters are rising

ebbing, swelling,

falling in drops.
Every single tear carries your face,

solemnly, 

like altar boys with holy bread.
So if you’d still leave,

Go now.

  do not look back.

I would be the night clouds,

without moonlight 

 in search of little stars that would be light.
Do not miss my presence ,

I would be the prodigal finding happiness in lost lands.

My roots spreading, searching for new soil.
But if you, 

like the wild birds that fly miles back to their home,

come back to me,

In the light of your dawn,

all darkness of mine shall be undone.

all days before that day erased

all earlier words  rephrased and lost in the welcome of your eyes.
 I would  be a wild flower and a blooming  rainbow 

Unfolding,  revealing,  restating my love for you 

In a splash of colours.


_pic credit: Ani Brendan_____________