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Destiny Izehi Poem
long view
pining through the forest
inside out
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2017
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Destiny Izehi Poem
Desperation travels my marrows,
still breath stealing all my tomorrows
the blessing of your love I couldn't show
whirling and coiling me up like tornadoes
dispirited in my shadow
come save me now, I cry a billion folds
if you see my face again, you wouldn't know
to where have gone all of my rainbows.
This place is not a home,
no colours in my world,
if there’s one place I know,
it wouldn't lead me home
goodbye to all my folks
I’m so frail and cold
the more I try to hold,
my breath goes so slow
I wouldn't know,
I wouldn't know,
I wouldn't know...
if I could see you once more.
Desperation travels my marrows,
so shameful; I still dwell in underworld
and myself I can’t find in the mirror
the silent voice from an underdog,
screams "free my soul" in muted mode
it’s hard to die or to live, now I know
still in continuous run from my shadow.
This fate is from above?
I want to know
I, I, I want to know
This heavy load
bends me low
ooh, presses me low!
will I be freed of this woe;
of the wasteful life that I behold?
I, I, I want to know
What are these addles
and muddled riddles?
I wouldn't know,
I, I, I wouldn't know
If I could love you once more?
Desperation travels my marrows
it so hurts, please let me go
I want to go, oh, oh let me go
to find my shadow from below
this way, that way in a circle
in a lifetime rigmarole
and I think there’s no way to go
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2016
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Destiny Izehi Poem
night butterflies
the new moon reflects
under fireflies
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2016
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Destiny Izehi Poem
One day I'll be preserved in sands of time;
glaring into diamond rays—white lights
the earth dissolves my flesh to fertile dust;
embeds treasures—secrets in a crackled skull
Metamorphosis—in the closet—white bones
the silver tusk of a unicorn; my wand
golden ink quills—illuminate the scripts
clinging a steam to my fingertips
Come rain and shine concomitantly;
Bats sporadic dispatch across twilight—
a howl at the full moon in dark pines;
the rest night hours listen to silent rocks
Man's long sail in a non-ebbing waterlog;
on landscape's odyssey; sags and saps
in quota and barricade—mortality; a parasite
that lurks and preys on squishy flesh
Under Sun's revolutions—sculptures crumble;
a halo on the hills in the peak of the eve—
grey hairs ignite floating lanterns in an upswing;
a hoop for tales of the golden age by moonlight
The olive tree bends astride, soars on eagles wings
shields the garden; absorbs time's lash—
kids hop in—out; light up cheeks with beams
and glee of jump-joy verses to recite the past
On the crescent of a semi-circled young moon
a look down time's row—the Agama nods;
the pendulum rocks—clicks of lullabies
daze tender eyes—whispers in the cradles
Dewy sunrises whistling songs of birds
stir up daily canticles—Would you proclaim
me fallen, as I linger in the miry clay
for the resonance of resurrection trump?
Get a dab of me in the tiny summer breezes,
glimpse me glimmering in the twinkling stars,
hear me susurrate in the dove-light woods,
catch whiffs of me in the rosy spring blooms:
—I live on in silent places of true light—
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2019
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Destiny Izehi Poem
\?;^;?/
Your eyes shine my world
light up the sunny day
and moon nights
set bright my world
revive the rainbows aglow
/ / | \ \
\?;^;?/
The virgin garden of tender
glee resonates sparkles
of your fluorescence
scintillating the deadened
atmosphere off contamination
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\?;^;?/
The fruits as ever tastefully
the same only that you
alone make them so
that the daffodils could
only reflect your golden eyes
/ / | \ \
\?;^;?/
The lily's fragrance you breathe
awakes early smiles that
give thanks— I give
thanks as you slick out
of the fog from to whence here
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\?;^;?/
The forest rejoices with splashes
they drip on us to grace
the fields and cleanse
the rocks our hands and
face of shame, we breathe again
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Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2016
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Destiny Izehi Poem
daybreak calls off moon's whitewash
in the wee of this morn I startled up from what quite seemed like a crash landing from midair plunge of a fledgling's first flight—thanks to my false 'alarmers'; the plantain eaters, I take them for angry doves, and yet, the laughing doves do coo me down in these dawns. Yeah... few months ago I stood behind my window bars, peering on as usual to catch a view or Olympic squirrels hopping from branches to clumps when I saw this floundered bird, soaring downwards, dipped through and crashing into razor leave and needle sharp branch nodes and some weather eroded bamboo sticks—the first time I might have witnessed a fallen angel, it was like a burning out star, this time shooting upside down.
emergency
circling above leaf falls
hawks siren
the day getting fast heat up as noon approaches, there's a whole of this host of hawks, rounding up the clumper and close by rooftops with squeaks and squeaks upon squeaks; what I thought at first was a catch that got dropped off grasp has become the target for rescue—like a fledging hanging frail and exhausted, trapped. But, the mating season of the African Harrier Hawk is just on, so could it be a male who got attacked by another male who tries to protect its territory as these hawks are found to be monogamous? I still focus on this rare scene in the air by the arboreal.
saccade
distorts in the dry wind
dragonfly drifts
eventide's in a frenzy and row, black and white mannikins chirr and ambience suppressed as squirrels chirp, join the coucal's moans and a choral flock of yellow warblers that doesn't wobble in a field of bromes—no ventriloquist's effects. Haven flown in wavy slides up and down, skimming near to claw and drag the victim out of the snare-like nest unsuccessfully, some hawks perch to catch a breath between the laughter of doves, the plantain eaters, claiming territory on the mango tree too, crackle and chase the hawks one by one, so I wondered if the hubbub had been intended for a jeer against the predators.
jungle marketplace
each seller and buyer bears
his woven basket
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2022
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Destiny Izehi Poem
And now the trickles ripple rifting
through the hues of the sky—confetti!
The words of my mouth are paintings;
a projected splash all over—frantics!
Whether they drag down God's face
blaze out streamlights—candlelights
pin a billion sunrises into a stiffened day.
How over-good—worthless crystallites?
When they fall on mangrove skies;
borrowed zephyrs compress—upsize;
explode into sands of mustard seeds—ripe!
Germinate tons of thorns—stars—torn
prickles—squeals—resounds—muted cries;
the act of the hands, when they try and try
to seal the width and pit of the mouth—'unrise'
head's cap size—safeguard the crown—discrown.
How over-good—worthless crystallites?
The River births—your River mouth—'silverlites'
the tributaries—tributes—waterfalls —silver bird—
the screeching lines—over-stretched verse;
voice box machines—the echoes—out loud;
on the stainless-steel wall—a still pass
into dwindling star flaps—eyes lashed
How over good, all these worthless crystallites?
© Destiny Izehi, 2016.
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2016
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Destiny Izehi Poem
Flattered teen man glitterati,
an echelon. Wouldn't you bow?
An axis of glittering damsels.
Pedestal of my clan… the authority!
I clawed the sky; I climbed so fast!
Feasible, get-at-able, so she slides in.
Naive me… the hero of Lassie.
I am suave to the Angel of fantasies.
I murmur, I tremble.
Glimpses of commitments, now a subpoena,
flawed my majesty, winks indignity at me.
Had I known a decemvir earlier?
Get me the clock, let me rewind it.
No Mom! I need rebirth.
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2016
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Destiny Izehi Poem
The moment the clip rolled—-
cold rain of adrenaline hassled
down my spine and narrow nerves.
In Gorge Floyd I froze—compressed,
suppressed into miniature casket—-
“I can’t breathe”—the resonance of this
mighty fight of tints and taints against
the ground, as a knee slices through
my throat—he kneels, in order of State
Sacrifice—one more scape goat will
do today, or perhaps, a black sheeple.
Dusk dawned on my noon—I supped on
salt dust—crippled on plaintive waterfall—
my soul hung on cobweb; sling falling
in the abyss of my subdued skull.
I glowered numb—-coalesced and
collapsed into myself—escapism
escaped me; so I sank deeper
into the ocean of Existential Hate
that tends to skin me alive—putting
an embargo on my ration of breath
as I gatecrash my public obituary—
facing fire-spits from bazooka mouth
bullies—gobbling acrid bullet tablets
to cure my genetic skin decease;
is to hang on a hangman’s guillotine;
on trumped up etiquettes—-the
'gravesands' on my shallow grave
hold bound my frail spirit to eternal,
age-long ransom and foster-slavery.
I see a cluster of stars—MLK, Dialo,
Arbery, Michael Brown, Eric Garner,
Breonna—the more I look, more I see;
clad in old-gold brown, tainted in
clots of maroon ink, from ‘hole’ of
hell, jungle of death—aimed and shot
at—the grand prize for Human Hunt;
point at and kill, the fattest lambs
to entice thirsty gods—mixture
of blood splotches and 'donkeysweat',
trickles of teardrops irrigate the land
with infestation. Oh! Mother Africa!
Are we the lambs for cutthroat ritualists?
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2021
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Destiny Izehi Poem
and now, colour blots whitewash on blanched wall; yesterday distanced from today’s gale—on the facade, from where, towards the end, faced face down time’s row in anticlockwise retrogression; the beginning from the end ends in the beginning, with each footprint laced—crowned in blue daisies, we giggled out “Oh! My God” as fleets of golden butterflies twinkled in broad daylight... I recall—a cyclone had begun, wafted us aloof
one deadwood
makes no woodland
terracotta shrub
and the struggle continues—like shadows in blank places and distant church bell gongs in the eclipse of our eyes like the moon and sun in a miniature wedding day—an endless abyss submerges the hollow of a burning ring with a gully wind rush through the needle’s eye as we dig deeper into dark secrets of our cardinal sins; apple's taste becomes acrid, putrid strawberry on coiled lips, whiffs of death scented coarse roses, stowed underneath sloshes of salt-waterfalls
wooden chest
bullets from her razor lips
words bank
Copyright © Destiny Izehi | Year Posted 2019
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