Melancholia - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 112: MELANCHOLIA

I hear a dirge of birds

Sweeping down like windstorms

raising doubts and dust

as it whoosh along.

Can feel depths of dissatisfaction

Hanging loosely on every note

Dropping to a descendo

itching my ears

piercing my spines

with the sweet pain that tags along

when one swallows a honey bee

and get stung in the stomach.

But vultures don't sing

How then doth this graveyard exude such sweet sadness

So much it satisfies my soul with extreme intensity?

So much I feel I've found home

in a city of dry bones?

I know why melancholy

And I are a synonym

If cut your chains, you free yourself.

If you cut your roots, you die.

I did both and I know not from whence I come,

Where I am,

And where I planned to go.

- Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

#365DaysOfPoetry

#Pengician

#SSA

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shy, a poem

bashful, timid, quiet. shy If anyone you know has used these terms to describe you, you're probably a bit shy. Everyone feels that way once in a while. Shyness and social anxiety are common, no matter how old you are. There is one myth about social anxiety and social anxiety disorder that I would like to dispel. The myth says that social anxiety is just exaggerated shyness. This myth encourages the idea that anxious people are merely weak-willed pushovers. It is partially because of this myth, I think, that well-intentioned people offer the relevant but insensitive and patronizing advice like, “Don’t worry about it!” , “Just do it” and “Face your fears.” Thinking on all these, I wrote this poem: shy when a shy person speaks, it's like music from guitar strings. when a shy person smiles, it’s like the sun coming out when a shy person steps out it's like the uncommon visit of gods when a shy person reclines it feels like moon eloped from night when a shy person is 'i

Dustbin And Drafts - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

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For Leah Shabiru - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

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