Disappointment Poems
Nightmare
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
I saw in her eyes the sallowness of festered love.
My drum had beaten to the resonance of celebration,
Of the deeds of love evaluation.
Her art bemuses me, especially when spoken and
Sketched to the rhythms of assayed hollowness –
Mottled balances echo silently on withered spots,
And the words she cherishes lie way below frontiers of enchantment.
How short my éclat reigned!
And my blood congealed!
Do I lay prostrate to hypoxia?
......
Disappointment
by Mario Odekerken
It arrives
not with thunder,
but with a slow closing
of a door
you thought would open.
You sit
with the echo
of what could have been-
a room half-lit,
......
The House of Fame
by Richard Randolph
I waited outside the House of Fame
as there was nothing else to do.
Then, when nearly all hope seemed lost,
an important woman noticed me there.
She took my hand and said I had promise
before disappearing into a well-lit hall.
Soon afterward, the large doors closed
and it was very dark, and I was cold.
But I could still hear the music playing
and see people dancing on a moonlit balcony.
......
Between your pain and my ability to ease it lies a million broken promises.
by Sisekelo & Lindelwa Simelane & Manana
Between your pain and my ability to ease it, lies a thousand broken promises waiting for Bob the builder, can he fix this?
You pull your hair often, sometimes I can't tell if you're frustrated or just in pain. You've had needles treat you like a best friend and sometimes a one night stand, it's supposed to hurt less but instead the drugs no longer work, you cry the same each time the doctor says turn, I guess practice makes prefect wasn't made only to get into your pants. Princess, you don't wear your crown no more, apparently it glitters and your soul's so tired, we could mistake it for anything but gold. You proudly took it off, now you walk with your head tilted as though to assure you that there's no glow, but sometimes you walk past a mirror and swear you see a halo. You trip a lot, sometimes on little stones but mostly on empty promises, when the air is thick with enough lies, you start to breathe, I think you feed off of negative energies, or maybe they are positive to your inner enemies. You've had about two decent conversations, one about how you cried last night, the other about how those tears never came out, you're lost in blue forests and green skies, waiting for thunderstorms that come in rays of sunlight. I think I've said enough, that's what I say when you ask me for advice because by then I realise that you'd be running back to square one. Between your pain and my ability to ease it lies a million untold stories that keep us broken, I'm waiting on our heart to open, maybe the wound can be healed once they realise it's open.
I remember waking up in a panic yesterday because for some reason the nightmare seemed like a nightmare for the first time in a long while. I cannot remember the last time my nightmares became nightmares, for the first time in a long time I saw you in them, I don't know if it was your presence or was it the million broken promises I've made to you that have come home to roost, either way I don't like it. I saw you standing there and our old friend procrastination sold me the idea that you'll be there even after my many obligations. Soon as I bought that idea I had to watch you walk away. It seemed as if I had given up on you without actually letting go because part of me hoped that I'd see you smile again. Probably the craziest thing I saw in this nightmare was the blue forests and green skies that you once talked about, I was amazed at the beauty you failed to relay to me. I remember taking a deep breath in the dream and it felt more like home as negativity was airborne and her particles were like little knives that ripped through nasal passages like the kids in their GTI's tear through the highway. As I was dealing with these little knives that gave me unmeasured pleasure, depression came around to collect her taxes, she left a message for you for when and if you come back. I realised that your pain could never be alleviated regardless of my ability to, and for some weird reason I'm happy with that.
Along the Line
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Snooze of peace reigned on a collage
of sacred impulse for serenity of shelter —
bower-girthed and soul-inundated —
but along the line, a stampede, peccant
and harlotic,
framed the sun.
Disappointment
by Mario Odekerken
It arrives
not with thunder,
but with a slow closing
of a door
you thought would open.
You sit
with the echo
of what could have been-
a room half-lit,
......
Public Clocks
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
At first his anger was hotter than July
Or, rather, he was plundered by the weight of
Sorrow —heavier than the ice of January;
The kind of stolid ice that thickened Niagara Falls
Like frozen soup.
He was tall and lissome, bespectacled, in
Dark suits, a brown hat, worn-out shoes of fraternity.
A folded umbrella accompanied him like a touring child.
No wristwatch.
He doesn’t wear them.
......
Resignation
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
As the hours stretch slowly and with
Sloth’s irredeemable tempo,
The earth, lacking appetite, nibbles at her meals
Which roll upon the fulcrum of the grand star
And discerns all inclinations
Towards us brittle souls —
Souls which peregrinate
On circles of death
And life . . .
......
Drummers Return
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Like the comet —far gone —
they return,
accompanied by wavelengths of torture
and secreted grief;
on their tired shoulders
weak and pale faces of drums, slung
with the sombreness of traded pride,
and, rested, their countenances dimly poor;
and also pale among them.
the fast-setting sun.
......
Along the Line
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Snooze of peace reigned on a collage
of sacred impulse for serenity of shelter —
bower-girthed and soul-inundated —
but along the line, a stampede, peccant
and harlotic,
framed the sun.
