Wednesday, April 27, 2011



Making It Again


There’s no mistake in a child’s clear paper world, all errings
Are erasable: She shreds a year and mutters; it’s just numbers
Same as I bleed the blue from yesterday’s witnessing clouds
Putting distemper in memory, leaving tryst-grounds in chaos

Empty playgrounds are lures when love is done, its
Bud of grace quarter eaten by the price we pay surely
A slammed door - another’s name – wanderlusting . . .
Absence becomes the now place where the other lives alone

I invoke my fever in the creaking of swings, thinking
Of Christ. But she’s gone to the devil and He, creation
By creation, undoes the deed of our Father’s amen
Leaving us as children, a mistaken affair erased.

6 comments:

Safranna said...

Heartbreaking... in these three small stanzas of poetic prose, you tell important pieces of a Lifetime. well done, expressing this emotional story as observer, mercy, & lost.. i'm left sad by this, so it's very effective!

Safranna said...

Reading this again today, i get a very different feel.... a hopefulness in them 'made children again' ~ i like that this swings between a fine hazy edge and the lines... you write well. I enjoy your mindgrapes. ~:}

Omonse Esangbedo said...

Very simplistic, but very precise at the same time. It was a lovely read - I enjoyed it!

Maxx Garcia said...

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Farida Adamu said...

Short
Sharp

Heart-rending

Farida Adamu said...

Short
Sharp

Heart-rending