E SULE

 

this hypnosis shall pass away

 

 

in the landscape of her sex

in her watery womanhood

in the emirate of her beauty

 

      I’m hypnotized, spiritualized

      let her jazz grow volume on my ears!

 

 her folklore sprouts

a thousand strands of lust

a marketing instinct of her sex

 

      this volume of her arrogant jazz

      is mockery of my malehood

 

 and now that earth has suddenly split!

and now that sky collapses in disgrace!

 

 no. I won’t be the stubborn penis

whose eyes are blind to restless pubic

not the irresponsible moan

that spawns pods of illegitimacy

 

 this hypnosis shall pass away

in the pace of stubborn typhoid

 

 

neurotic phases II

 

I was a quiet ram with gentle eyes

but all they want is

a lion with enough claws to maim

 

I dusted my conscience to make meaning to man

but all they long for is

an empty shell of a furious soul

 

I singled out a tongue that wombed soft words

and all they needed is

fiery sword as metaphor of sounds

 

now I’m a fullgrown riddle

splitting their brains in wisdom’s backyard

like a ghost’s syntax I’ll remain unparsed

all elements tenaciously clung

in mesmeric lair of lexis

 

and their frail limbs are huddled

into this neurotic phase

and words snatched from their lips crammed

into another neurotic phase

 

ha! How can I extricate these tonguetwisters

seething the land with strange, unmouthed words

how can I pour this sick god of eyes

libation for total healing. How?

 

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Sentinel Poetry #32

ONLINE MAGAZINE MONTHLY. JULY 2005. ISSN 1479-425X