THREE POEMS

By Tobun Pelumi 

                         Photo Credit: Patrick Dougher 

A BODY AS A SIREN SCREAMING GRIEF

dinner last night / came with gunshots that struck the fortress of my heart / & sent cracks through my bones / my mind / a wave / oscillated between the past & present / bred imageries of the past / & drove pain into my larynx / pain / a metaphor for beautiful things / that sinks me into a casket of emptiness / & makes me a portal to grief / – like Bidemi’s smile / that led me into a fantasy of bizarre emotions / & left me wandering in the elegy of a broken heart / i was maimed by the emptiness that named me by pain / through reincarnation of memories / currently / the banquet of my mind is filled with red sauce / that spices me chili of memories / i remember clutching the fallen pieces against my chest when home came crashing / i remember / when mother became a casket housing a lifeless body / & faded with home / i remember / when father became a metaphor for dirge / & our voices; an aubade of lamentations / i remember now / how my body became a siren of pains / folding into syllables of forgotten words /

                                                                             

NOSTALGIA

today, in the dark room i held unto her frame

with my eyes closed, pretending to feel her presence.

oh, no. no. no – i actually felt it. 

i felt her body rest against mine as she gave a warm hug. 

i felt her breath against my skin 

as sweat cascade following trails of heat biting every inch of my body.

i can’t tell if my mind was dancing in a lost lane,

all i can say is i felt her. i tasted her cologne – my nose did. 

her grip sent conflagration underneath my skin. 

her soft touch stirring goosebumps. her scrawny legs.

her frail femur topping my flesh. 

then her voice. squirting. radiating from a radio: shhh…

shhh…i….love…shhh…yo…shhh…

before the end of her statement i lost signals of her words. 

i swear. i am not crazy. i saw her. i felt her. because she was here.

                                                                            

A BODY DEVOID OF HEAVEN’S LIGHT & WAVERING IN SIN

My soul crawls slowly into the burrow of temptations,

singing praises with the devil at his footstool.

My heart slowly walks in rhyme, passing rhythms of desperate desires

into my fingers, as my hands shivers from vibration.

With my fingers, I scribble pun-o-graphic words

on my web browser, feeding my eyes with devil’s pawn images.

With my hands, I type, latest pun,

hoping to see the latest artiste, making pun with soft moans. 

Within their lines, I memorize alliterations,

& beget metaphoric expressions dancing in my head. 

When the light fades, my mind becomes filled with the figurative 

terms of pun, & my soul gets hooked in their jumbo,

begetting an altar of freedom,

silently amening cries & burning incense to heaven’s throne:

o Lord, If grace is a metaphor for your kindness,

please I beseech you, renew the dark attic of my heart,

make it pure like the scent of your presence,

& make me clean of this leprosy, like Naaman.

Make me unholy of this temptations caressing my mind,

stinging my soul. & help me holy of your words, amen. amen.

                                                                

Tobun Pelumi, pen-named Voice of an elect, is NGP 3. He's a phone photographer, an award winning poet & emerging writer from Lagos, Nigeria. His works are/forthcoming in Arts Lounge, Nymphs Magazine, Erato Magazine, BANSI Demi-gods Anthology, and elsewhere. He was a joint winner of PIN June 2021 poetry challenge, he was a shortlist in BKPW contest of December 2021 edition, he bagged third place in Shamokwale Poetry Contest, he also made top 20 in BPPC April/May 2022. He’s on Twitter and Instagram @pelumitobun