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Three Poems | By Muheez Olawale

Three Poems | By Muheez Olawale

Three poems
Seeking Night Lights 

 

i change channels whenever the TV screens

an ad. dreams destroy, dad says, especially

when they’re larger than your pockets.

 

on nights when catalepsy bind me to the desert

grounds, peeking at the night sky through the

window, i walk the edges of this somnolent world

to avoid roaming into unbirthable realities.

 

a poor man’s dream is a wingless bird.

because empty pockets & bellies incarcerate ideas,

i fall on my knees & whisper dreams into the

crevices of my palms. if my heart hold enough

saltwaters to evade rainy eyes, my hands should

receptacle crushing pains to escape broken dreams. 

 

on nights when the stars paint my tears into a mural

— a testament of the times i’ve reached for

ethereal heights but crash into the pockets of ennui,

 

on nights when the dark smothers butterflies & i chase

fireflies down this blind path, say glimmers are phantasms

veiling cremains of incinerated tomorrows,

 

on nights when i am the spacecraft launching my dreams,

defying gravity, battling time, seeking bioluminescence

out of this universe, but the ozone layer is a tether,

plummeting me back into the crevices of my palms.

 

on nights when i bury my dreams in the earth like seeds

waiting to grow into blooming petals, hoping for life

to rain and shine. but i know that this soil is a carnivore

devouring whorls of tomorrows, a sizzling potsherd

burning every modicum of hope into forgotten ashes.

 

but nights lose their black cloak, like a bride unveiling

herself to the groom,  so like mimosa pudica, i shall

welcome light into the chambers of my heart with

open arms & sunny smiles.

 

Dear God

 

it’s me again.

 

i am rummaging Spotify to find songs

deeper than the crevices in my heart.

 

Siri asks me today when the listening

the streak of heartbreak songs will end.

 

Duolingo’s bird slaps my head with its wings,

leaving a reddened question mark on my face

—when shall I stop learning only the grieving tongue?

 

Google search bar desserts me tonight,

scarred with suicidal thoughts that

coat every inch of its history.

 

YouTube’s algorithm push smiley videos,

but I pull with tears into my cave of lonesomeness.

 

Meta AI reaches me before I do,

knocking on my inbox

to dispatch links to positive articles.

 

Dear God,

i’m here again.

See Also
Refaat Alareer

Tomorrow, when the sun rises,

let it find me. 

 

A Mouthful of Broken Songs

 

this poem is a battlefront, my pen & heart

locked in warfare.

i rob the sky of stars

& wonder what happens if life steals the

twinkles in my eyes. on nights when my eyes

 

cries torrents of saltwaters, thunderclaps

shall punctuate my whimpers, & lightnings

won’t lighten the

weight on my heart. so

I let my pen wrench my heart for drops of

 

crimson truths, dreams forgotten in hammering

sunrays, voice beaten

into cracks like reddened

earths. so i will be the sky, purging myself of

pains growling inside of me in flashes of grim,

 

& seas of darkness till light finds me & i glow

in the warmth of the sun once again. & in the

aftermath of this battle,

you shall find cadavers

of yesterday sprawled on the floor. this poem is

 

a ritual of ecdysis. this poem is a mouthful

of broken songs kintsugiing itself

into a better tomorrow.

Muheez Olawale is a Nigerian creative with a passion for storytelling. He was the runner-up, A.S. Abugi National Prize for Short Story. His poem won the COAS Literary Competition 2024. He has works published or forthcoming in The Kalahari Review, The Hooghly Review, The Muse, Akewi, Synchronized Chaos, Micromance, and elsewhere. His collection of humorous tiny stories, “Pocketfuls of Palava” is available for free on Selar. Connect with him on Instagram and X @_muheezolawale.

Cover photo credit: Jovydas Dobilas

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