The Poetry Cares

The Poetry cares

She was softly spoken

Like over ripe avocado pear, melting like butter in your mouth

That was how her voice sounded in your ears

Her lips were the color of wine

One needn't imagine far, how intoxicating it will taste.

It beats imagination to imagine such innocence.

Let alone such innocence hurting, because of a son of man.

So, as she explained, I had to keep reminding my self to listen and not fantasize.

I had to fight to stay alert and not erect.

I had to struggle to pay attention, not bow to erection

Such was her beauty

Like the hands of a clock

One second away from giving you all your heart desires.

Or one second late, robbing you of your last chance at getting your phantom desires.

"When is it a crime to fall in love?" she asked

I stared ahead, wordless

Words they say are powerful, so I was careful mine didn't push her off the cliff.

For one has already taken her to the foot of it.

"Why can't I simply be allowed to fall in love in peace?" She moved again one step towards the edge.

I didn't have to move my hands to reach her.

My eyes borrowed my fingers.

My heart will do the talking for my tongue.

That is how we have been taught to communicate best.

By not communicating at all....or communicating differently.

"You are right, when is it indeed a crime to fall in love?'' I asked her rhetorically.

"This is Nigeria dear, it is a crime to fall where you stand, because the world will tear you to pieces.

That love you wanna fall in peace will imprison you and God forbid...maybe even kill you.

That is why you can't fall in love In peace, I say not today not ever.

Fall in love with yourself first, and lastly, the stories of those who have fallen a thousand times and risen a hundred thousand more.

Those who refuse to stay down but kept on rising.

Fall In love with their rising.

Not their ashes.

Learn how they did it so you wouldn't have to do it.

You were not created to fall, neither is it your fate to fall a thousand times.

The sons of men doesn't deserve your substance.

The only place your back should be, is not on the floor but on the bed, in the throes of pleasure and the beauty of sweet dreams.

Your substance wasn't created to be on the floor but above.

Learn from those who have fallen a thousand times for that is a thousand times you won't fall.

The only man you should fall for every night is your mattress.

And last I checked, it wasn't a man but man made.

She was in my arms by the time I was through

And I didn't even lift a finger.

I simply opened my mouth

I am a poet

The greatest of all Gods.


Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne
Authorpreneur
www.ofunneceo.blogspot.com