Meandering through despair, these poems seek hope and promise. An evocative poem by Martins, a young poet from Nigeria, for Different Truths.
IN TRIAL TIMES
Paddle! Paddle!! Paddle!!!
Paddle your pirogue down the valley
Even when your moment seems heavy
Spring to life in tasteless tingling time
Only the gritty nibbles with the rhythm
Of time.
©Martins Tomisin
PAIN
Eyes soused in tears
Like water’s calling to the fish
The soft letters on the peak filled with jelly
Like the day binding the day
A smile in the sun-time
A moody in the darkest night:
A crick to the neck
The agro has brought nothing
But pain to the juvenile girdled in nudity
And swilling our Mother’s two sappy oranges
The pain squirt like the spurting waters
Enough to slurp a mil-mighty-
Men-of -might to mousy
Pains which is not a buddy of buds,
Is not a candy bar to the merry-makers
Is not a candy bar to the shoe-makers
(Who wants to have the world at their feet)
Pain is a bud,
Yet, it is not a bud
Pat and pat it is to the circle
Arrant to the shapeless heart;
The storm brewing
And arrays night to drown days
Pains is like hot paving stones
Scorching naked feet
Pain is a mighty vanquisher of men
The feet must feel
The heart must feel
It is the body that casts no shadow
It is the crayon that paints no colour
It is the crib that has no cap to capped the peak
It is the creaking stairs
It is the crook’s eyelids
Drooped in burnout
It is like the droop of the shoulder
Hanging in ignominy
It is the sweet, soft, resounding sound
That pierces the sky at night – death
©Martins Tomisin
Pix from the Net.
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