Posted: January 31, 2015 in Poetry
Tags: ,

by Soonest Nathaniel Iheanyi

I now wear rags,
But these rags once passed for regals of royalty.
I pay now in empty bags,
The prize of making a case for infidelity;
Perhaps I should plead for prayers and psalms,
Other than ask annoyingly for arms,
Though I doubt
I’m still too young to kneel.

A Nebuchadnezzar
I, thought myself a god,
But here gods die
So here I am
dying at your feet.
Flowers feed on flesh;
They now grow teeth,
But I on the leaves of grass now feast.
Lost sabers,
Lost claws,
Lost canines;
I chew the cud
And tread on cloven feet.

Please treat me as unclean,
Follow your Leviticus order;
To touch my carcass is sin,
I doubt my prize was paid at Golgotha.
I long though be redeemed,
On Rudolph’s philosophy weaned,
But ungodliness roams the holy night.
Lead me friend,
Lead me to the waters.
A bathe in Jordan,
A taste of Bethseda;
Its ironic,
But John’s baptize in gutters.

I say to you,
prophet please don’t touch
The strap of my sandals,
But you say church
Is a courthouse for radicals.
I see them all,
I see them now,
Court whores and camp jesters;
We are all sinners,
Righteousness is a crime.

I’ve done my time
Life a nasty mix
Of lemon and lime;
Find me a quick fix,
These junkie moments are sublime.
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll rise
A Naaman made unwhole,
And beyond poetry
A crow descend upon head;
And a loud voice say,
These is my rejected son
In whom I am displeased.
O! Let Gehazi bear no more
the curse of my leprosy.

Liberty of Creativity

Liberty of Creativity

  1. Anene Francis says:

    Hmm… Remorseful but not repentant.

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