You always ask, why is life
An olden photograph
that evolves with time and gives away
her innocence to sultry, to little things of colour
when life itself is a cosmic writer of poetry
denied of ethereal exploits in space.
Blue flames are hard to light in the heart
so is an unattractive thigh difficult to please
the eyes that sleep with the morning sun.
And life itself is a dwindling tear of a dead child
staged by coups de’ tat and mobbed by silences.
The soul faces time with a piece of hook
like a fisher-boy seducing a mighty ocean.
You know how to survive a rapturous sin
like apparitions do to living bodies who
Prevent them from returning to their beloved.
But if bread is life for survivors in turned memoirs
then is smoke for believers
Who swim the present to childhood
to learn lessons forming
Skeletons of their new age
Abeiku Arhin Tsiwah is a Ghanaian Technology and Smartphone Habitué. He’s the Senior Poetry Editor at Lunaris Review (a Journal of Arts & the Literary, Nigeria). His works have appeared in Afridiaspora, Peeking Cat Poetry, Expound, Novel Masters, African Writer, Agbówó, Liberian Literary Magazine, Face2FaceAfrica & —elsewhere.
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