Curse tragedy, you say.
You will write a happy poem.
You will talk about how
human it is to forget
the simplest things. Like heaven
being nothing more than
this cool breeze against skin.
Or that little fair child’s smile.
Or when you were still a comet
rushing into her arms.
I swear, I will talk about joy,
even if it be a lie. Because at
some point, the lie, if properly
caressed, evolves into the truth
— a truth worth dying for.
I will point to this body
and declare its terrains
virgin, alien to the conquest of grief.
Because I remember what I was
before water— all that thirst,
all that painful, burning desire.
Because in some ways, I am still
broken. Still a harp at the
amphitheater, waiting
for music to be struck
out of my skin.*
O, wonderful. O, sweet child.
O, antelope running through
a forest made of teeth.
Your innocence has
wounded you enough.
The world is cruel, is cold
and beautiful.
You have hidden in the dark
for way too long.
Come bare chested. Come outside.
Remember, you are so much,
are so much more.
Than a prey,
than all these bitemarks.
[Asterisked line attributed
to Samuel Adeyemi]
Marvellous Mmesomachi Igwe is a budding poet from Port Harcourt, Nigeria. He has been published in Isele, Poetry ColumnNND, Poetry Sango Ota, The Dawn Review amongst others. He was a winner of the 2024 Folorunsho Editor’s Prize for Poetry and also finalisted for both the 2024 Kofi Awoonor Poetry Prize and the 2024 Dawn (Review) Prize for Poetry. You can find him daydreaming, listening to his favorite singer Lana del Rey, or writing about limerence, melancholia and the mundanities of existing. He tweets @mesomaccius.
Cover photo credit: Chris F