I first opened my eyes
my mouth
my palms
deep, deep
in a barley field
I wear a crown of thorns
like the demise
of a thought that is at an end
beginning another
and another
How pitch-darkness
leads us
to kindle
fire after fire
to endure the loneliness
madness is a cultural relapse
whether my name
is an anagram
or a nom de plume
I must put it on the scale
Yet the roads still
transit the city
straight
as they travel through
the channel of anxiety
*
Vessels of hope fraught
with my youthful dreams
Approximate the shores of despair
making an unhappy landfall
*
The day has no sky to gaze upon.
Loneliness sits on my chest.
My labour is a locked granary.
I learnt about hunger and pain
in my cradle,
as I learnt to treat my wounds
before I could smile.
My shadow drifts over
the crowds at Nelson’s column.
I feed the birds
stationed on the bronze lions
with foreign words,
chain my shouts to a pulpit.
Between
now and then
Between
things lived or not
I am going
nowhere.
*
I took with me the rain and snow
An avalanche under my arm
Wearing somber face
On my passport
I spoke in the language
Of aspirations
But the signet I had
The sign of freedom to enter
Foggy London weather
Disappeared into my eyes
*
The ship docked to seek
The words in disguise
My tongue tied against
The train of questionings
Unhearable voices ask
Refuge for my dreams
Has fate abandoned me?
*
The aircraft lands
On its feet
The sound of alien words
Travel with me
Stillness in the air
Brings forth
And devises borrowed lives
In an underground train
Railtracks cut thru
Moonlights over me
Lamenting darkness
In a tormenting state
Faces assemble
Before my own
Salute me
With political correctness
Death is far and far
But visits briefly
I bury my kin
Into my bosom
I am an item
In multi-dreams
Infused
By the Western discourses
First, I displayed splitable
Mind then thoughts
Immersed in a life
In a newly found land
I am baptised with
A new psyche
The house of fear
Hit at dawn
By hailing stones
My shout for protection
Not worthy of police records
*
i sat on a broken chair
emptied my soul
filled, signed a paper
and with invisible guilt
took their oath
my dream of returning
one day
died in Regent’s Park
i took refuge in a rose garden
where i found myself, clueless
i filled out endless job applications
received endless rejection slips
returned with countless poems
the labour exchange office
taking care to remind me of my place