Skip to main content

Ode To Lost Love | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu


POEM 349:

I heard no thrilling seraph when you promised music
but I heard crackling at my side that wasn't music

I felt no warm glow when you promised to fan my flares
and fuel my desire with raging flames,
but sudden darkness engulf my smiles
covering the night sky with heavy clouds

when finally, I heard the faintest sound
that had the similitude of music,
it was not quite the rending you'd promised

rather a break from quiet to chaos
spoiling the silent moment of solitudinal bliss
with rumbles that disquiet my soul

Instead of fire in my bones
you unleashed electricity on my skin,
I dimmed myself so I could hear your moans
but what I felt was thorns piercing my skin

All I wanted was your tender
but in the end was a yelling thunder
screaming out for downpours
drenching my scanty furs

Now I sit alone, beside myself,
listening to my own echoes
and waiting for you to harmonize.

I sit alone, beside myself,
blowing hot on frozen coals
and waiting for your spark of lights

In the end I am the one on the waiting
wondering why you'd chosen silence over melodies
wondering when you'd smile on me like twinkling stars
wondering where it was we lost touch of us


#365DaysOfPoetry
#Pengician #SSA



Enjoyed reading?


Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you! 
 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.  "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies"  "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"  After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"  "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Celebrating the “father of modern African literature”: Chinua Achebe

Today I join Google to celebrate Chinua Achebe's 87th birthday. Chinua is the father of modern African literature who with literature has touched many lives. Chinua Achebe was one of the greatest African writers of his generation. On what would have been his 87th birthday if he was alive, Google is paying its respects to Chinua Achebe on its homepage. Go to Google.com to view the doddle. Unarguably, Achebe’s influence on African literature is inestimable. He’s widely known to be the “father of modern African literature” with novels which projected Nigerian and African culture globally at a time when much of the continent was freshly free from the chains of colonialism. Chinua Achebe passed away March 2013 in the United States of America at the age of 82. The literary icon's journey to literary greatness started with ' Things Fall Apart ', which was his first book. It was released nearly 60 years ago in 1958 and regarded as one of the most widely read books in Africa.  ...