“Where Have You Been, Joe Ifah?”
Where have I been? Where cocoons rest their time-bound lengths On leaves that haunt their consciousness; Where mud-fish take their seasonal sleep In caking clay till the floods repeat. I have swum the rivers and
Your Children Grow!
Sometimes we’ve sung to cynical youth – Droves of kids disdaining truth – Whose stances said, as oft before: Boost the beats and damn the lore! Sometimes it’s tender eager hearts, Yet unhardened questing herds
Footfalls
I hear footfalls piti-pata of muddied feet marking time on you. I hear gurgles hunger calls of fiend throats reaching out for you. I hear the voice of Night wafting out its tainted songs that
Tick and Tock
Don’t strain to hear the tick and tock Of your lifetime’s master clock; It’s ever as silent as stealth, Like nothing the ear has felt. You cannot see the powerful swings Of its time sub-shredding
Reeling
It seems the earth is round So I can only daily spin About this dizzying circle Chained to a loafer’s blistered life. It seems the sun hangs still So my hot orbiting thoughts May dart
Wrinkles
The inkless tips of my eyesight’s pen trace these lines upon your neck; browse these time-stamp strands of lace stealthily dispersed round your face. Traveler, I shrink and fade in, course over blown pathways on