RHYTHM

I am the music
The rhythm that moves to no beat, moves to a silent fear, a fear that the music will stop
My body is rhythm –
Looking for an opening, a scar to let this bottled up angst and terror move to the beat
Wait, what beat?
-The fast, irregular, jarring leaves my hands in the air, my mouth in my heart
I’m flailing, a lost soul in an abyss
The music is spikes, needles in my brain, insanity comes, slowly, silently, holding breath, holding life
The music is ice, freezing time, freezing me –Limbo
I pause the music and I’m still, no breath, no life, still
I press play and I’m the wind
The last beat holds my breath
I don’t want to let go
If I press replay, can I stand this, again?

IfiokAbasi Okop
©2019

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slowly with a process

The era of greatness
Began slowly with a process
A pause, a close of the eyes

It began in all truthfulness
Not with the light nor in her rays
But in despair and in darkness

Like a hawk process swooped
down into a deep troubling dream
So full of owls and bats

Bitter it was once, bitter is it still
Remembering as brave process
Fought and fought and fell
Without rescuing success

But then, HE came very well
In the wind, in the morning bell
Lifting her from the hollow hell

Into a new dawn of ideas
A splendid tomorrow
Devoid of frown and agony

Indeed, the era of greatness
Began slowly with a process
A pause, a close of the eyes

Ugwu David C.
© 2019