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TIDEWASH……Memories

fold-over-fold free-furrow

mingling old tunes with new.

Tidewash…..Ride me

memories, astride on firm

saddle, wreathed with white

lillies & roses of blood…..

 

Sing to the rustic flute:

Sing a new note…

 

Where are the Maytime flowers,

where the roses? What will the

Watermaid bring at sundown,

a garland? A handful of tears?

Sing to the rustic flute:

Sing a new note…

 

Comes Dawn

gasping thro worn lungs,

Day breathes,

panting like torn horse –

 

We follow the wind to the fields

Bruising grass leafblade and corn…

 

Sundown: I draw in my egg head.

Night falls

smearing sore bruises with Sloan’s

boring new holes in old sheets –

 

We hear them, the talkative pines,

And nightbirds and woodnymphs afar off …

 

Shall I answer their call,

creep on my underself

out of my snug hole, out of my shell

to the rocks and the fringe for cleansing?

Shall I offer to Idoto

my sandhouse and bones,

then write no more snow-patch?

 

Sing to the rustic flute.

Sing a new note.

Retrieved from  Archive of Christopher Okigbo poems

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About Post Author

Anthony-Claret Ifeanyi Onwutalobi

Anthony-Claret is a software Engineer, entrepreneur and the founder of Codewit INC. Mr. Claret publishes and manages the content on Codewit Word News website and associated websites. He's a writer, IT Expert, great administrator, technology enthusiast, social media lover and all around digital guy.

ionyclaret@gmail.com

https://www.codewit.com

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The moon has
ascended between us,
Between two pines
That bow to each other;

Love with the moon has ascended,
Has fed on our solitary stems;

And we are now shadows
That cling to each other,
But kiss the air only.

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About Post Author

Anthony-Claret Ifeanyi Onwutalobi

Anthony-Claret is a software Engineer, entrepreneur and the founder of Codewit INC. Mr. Claret publishes and manages the content on Codewit Word News website and associated websites. He's a writer, IT Expert, great administrator, technology enthusiast, social media lover and all around digital guy.

ionyclaret@gmail.com

https://www.codewit.com

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BEFORE YOU, my mother Idoto,

Naked I stand;

Before your weary presence,

A prodigal

Leaning on an oilbean,

Lost in your legend

Under your power wait I

On barefoot,

Watchman for the watchword

At heavensgate;

Out of the depth my cry:

Give ear and hearken…

DARK WATERS of the beginning.

Ray, violet,and short, piercing the gloom,

Foreshadow the fire that is dreamed of.

Me to the orangery

Solitude invites,

A wagtail, to tell

The tangled-wood-tale;

A sunbird, to mourn

A mother on spray.

Rain and sun in single combat;

On one leg standing,

In silence at the passage

The young bird at  the passage

SILENCE FACES at crossroads:

Festivity in black…

Column of ants,

Behind the bell tower,

Into the hot garden

Where all roads meet:

Festivity in black…

O Anan at the knob of the panel oblong,

Hear us at crossroads at the great hinges

Where the players of loft organ

Rehearse old lovely fragment, alone-

Strains of pressed orange leaves on pages

Bleach of the light of years held in leather:

For we are listening in cornfields

Among the windplayers,

Listening to the wind leaning over

Its loveliest fragment…..

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About Post Author

Anthony-Claret Ifeanyi Onwutalobi

Anthony-Claret is a software Engineer, entrepreneur and the founder of Codewit INC. Mr. Claret publishes and manages the content on Codewit Word News website and associated websites. He's a writer, IT Expert, great administrator, technology enthusiast, social media lover and all around digital guy.

ionyclaret@gmail.com

https://www.codewit.com

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