Rehearsed Memories | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 199: REHEARSED MEMORIES

Chapter One:
The length of my stare
rolled and twisted as it stumbled
over memories on wobbly limbs
between the best of yore
and all uncertain fore.
I placed a trembling thumb
on a page I once walked
and ran my middle finger on each story-line
as if to say 'fuck you!' over and over,
to the hurdles that made me tumble
to the traits that made me fumble
to the fiends that made me rumble
to the times I almost did crumble.

Chapter Two:
A teen’s head craving for head
pop up like porn ads on Pornhub
off and flail and frail and fair
the irony of here and there
that makes no champion anywhere.
Through the winds of enduring sadness
and then the ripples of alluring sweetness
that made my spirit sway
and carried my body away
on the laps of Bella, my Delilah.
One wink too much,
One discuss to lust,
One gap too small,
One touch too long,
One kiss too much,
One thrust too short,
I sighed and flipped next page to read
fighting off the flirting memories
and reechoed moans bouncing off forgone orgasms.

Chapter Three:
Twenties with unlived dreams
walking down a dim lit street
Jotter in hand, pen in the other,
a stream of tears and deluge of words flooding my ears.
'The brokenhearted will pollinate'the phrase I thought I did believe.
Ah dear diary, there goes my mate,
an income, dame and certificate.
Yet here I am like pack of cards
in the hands of a joker and a clown
they game on me and win on me,
place me aside to sip some gin,
their unending sorrow and pain,
passed on to those most virtuous once upon a time,
who wholesome was once upon a while...
Look who was left behind the scene,
will the chapter next remain the same?

Chapter Four:
These memories are gloom and glee
the part I fell, the part I won
the part I chased, the part I ran
the part depression drowned in rum
the part I danced and praised the Lord
the part life's wrath spread like floodwaters
the part I bore all cardinals and fell under the weight of it.
The part a chap walked on all fours
gritting teeth to skinned knees.
The part I lived my chapter four
in a frozen isle bereft of fur.
Low downs, high ups and treat to grownups,
I flipped the pages next
and hoped fair memories would be the next.

Chapter Five:
I want others to feel the same remorse
that swept me floating to the cross.
That they feel the peace I felt
when all the weight fell off my head.
That they hold not dear their burdens
and think salvation of impediments.
That they take warmth in His words
and seek no human blanket anymore.
And while I flip over the next page
Music notes float by like amazing grace;
A reminder that I stand this firm
because I hinged my faith in God.

Chapter Six:
Wings of angels glued to my shoulder pads
I glide across the foe's landmines.
Decay of emotions wilt away
like sun dried flowers lost in hay.
One, two, three, four, five and six
I leap for joy and then back flip.
my mind will no more be tormented
into submission when tempted.

Chapter Seven:
My heart which once withered with misery and guilt
when I stray again in wanderlust,
now blossom lush like riverside weed.
My happiness which once diluted into black waters
when again into dark tunnels I thrust,
now dazzle lights from Him who I trust.
My loneliness which once was spent on the snails back,
now rests on His bosom where love ne'er lack.
My speeches which once were priced per pestilence,
now glow with grace and righteousness.
On this page is a bold PERFECTION
freely given by God through the Son.

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