Jomul7

trying to learn to say ah to things. trying to learn how to spell my name. For now, I'm just another wordsmith.
None of these images are my own.

Ask and you shall receive
Submit and surrender!

 Auto destruction manual

Once food enters the body

It brings with it the necessary ingredients

For the bio bacteria in the gut

To sustain life and bring death

Until this star has run its course.

Posted at 10:00am and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, short poem, personal, poem, creative writing,.

To vacillate

We were walking down a prairie

Trespassing on an old lady’s territory

Our loud arguments disrupting nature’s harmony

And our minds still infused

With shopping list

Sexual frustrations

Family shenanigans

The crumbs of modernity choking our lives

The bubble was going to burst

Just as a breath of roses and jasmine

Took the cloak of fatigue off me

Oiled my joints

And left with graceful hips

.

Your stare turned cold and stone

I wasn’t listening once again

My sins were spelled out in your gaze

I closed my eyes

To swim again in roses and jasmine

To feel the bliss, the twinkles

We used to have for one another

Up in the sky, clouds played out

Lost tales of gods, monsters and men

This day was coming to an end

And we were left vacillating

Between intimacy and anonymity

Our steps were slightly out of tune

I tried to wrap you and tuck you

 With just one look and the faint “yes”

Tugging in the corner of your lips

Meshed well with nature’s sweet cacophony

Spring was finally here.

Posted at 10:00am and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, personal, relationships, poem,.

Names

A name is a distance between one heart and another

A name, a proper one must be licked properly

You have three names:

One to brush the hairs on your skin

Another to tug your heart

And one to put you on a leash

Some names are so sweet they melt

On your tongue and light you up

Head to toes

Some names are so sour they make

You question existence.

A name is a fallen soldier with no tag

Like a dog in the streets of Kinshasa.

And there’s the way babies snatch the whole of you

They lift the veil wrapped tightly around you

Their eyes not knowing what they are seeing

Or feeling what they are seeing.

So you hide your name in your breast pocket

And forget it altogether

Even when it’s printed on billboards

And you pass it by everyday

On your way to epic stuff

A life is how many times

You walked and ran

The length of your name

Sliding and climbing

One letter to the next

And falling, yes, falling a lot

While your shadow takes your name

From the breast pocket

And goes around causing déjà vus all over the place.

Posted at 10:00am and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, poem, personal, names, creative writing, free verse,.

A Ma Mere

 

Author: Camara Laye

 

Black woman, African woman, O my mother I think of you

Daman O, O my mother, you who
carried me on the back, you who fed me,
You who govern my first steps,
you who first opened my eyes
the wonders of the earth, I think of you

Woman in the fields, rivers woman, wife of the great river,
O thou, my mother, I think of you

Daman O thou, O my mother, you who
wiped my tears, you who makes
 the heart rejoice, you who
patiently endured my quirks,
I would still like to be near you, being a child near you

O Daman, Daman of the great
family of blacksmiths, my thoughts
always turn to you, yours
at every step with me, O
Daman, my mother, as I
still be in your warmth, be
child close to you

Black woman, African woman, O
you, my mother, thank you, thank you for everything
what you did for me, your son, if
away, so close to you!

Posted at 1:06pm and tagged with: Camara Laye, African writer, traduction by me, french poet, poem, mother's day, poetry,.

Sun Drenched 

The sun soiled children bathe under the sun

They gather sun rays under their arms

And let their shiny smiles swell their baby cheeks

They grab the stars in their tiny hands

And hide them under the sea before the sun comes up

When they sing, the wind blows and the trees dance

The sun soiled children sleep under the moon

They draw rainbows in the sky with confidence

And talk seasons into sleep

When they cry, rain falls and rivers swell

They swim down the ocean and race the dragon sea to the shore

They feed on leaves with one hand and drink the left knee up

The sun soiled children bathe under the sun

Waiting, waiting for the forgotten lullaby.

Posted at 9:41am and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, personal, creative writing, poem,.

My eyelids have gained weight.

My heart drums fast against my chest.

My tongue lies dead in my mouth.

I despise living.

The sun can’t crack through dusty windows.

The sofa smells like urine of some dead animal.

The wind comes and goes like it owns the place.

There’s not much to talk about.

My thoughts sound like pigs at the butcher.

My feelings are open wounds sprinkled with salt.

My memories crumble this moment.

I have beef with God.

Posted at 8:26pm and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, poem, creative writing, personal, pain, Depression,.

Dragon tickled to merriment

Rain tapped gently at the windows

Etienne was out in the world

Miriam was between this sea and the next

Testing the waters she says

Mater searched for the North star

Her palm extended covering up the moon

While I stand in my growling river

Deeply shaken with every running current

A bonsai tree breathing under water

Tickles a dragon to merriment

 

Loose fragments of family photos trap vignettes of a lukewarm life

Etienne walked life like a tightrope walker

The hands on his watch still and stubborn

While Miriam laughed in the comforts of a cloud

 

This family turns with ease blood into water

And then water into a dead sea

Where the past ferments fruitless trees

Every branch in this family has a skin of truth

These skins of truth make me shudder

Whenever I brush their surfaces

“I’m alive” they whisper.

Posted at 1:50pm and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, poem, creative writing, family tree, personal,.

Our toes tickled the Earth

Our faces looked like a child’s sandbox

They strained under the weight of the world they carried

Every line carried a story

Every line contained a capsule of scents

Those sweets and sour yesterdays

We were too busy to revisit

Our hands had impetuous rivers for veins

They listened carefully for the pulse of things

With open palms ready to be nailed at every cross

That showed up on the road

Our lives ran up and down the lines in our palms

Trying to dig up our names buried in shame

Our toes tickled the Earth

Into humming her name

They held between themselves

Little souvenirs of every place.

Posted at 1:37pm and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, poem, personal,.

Breathing was happening in all the rooms

but each had to dig their own tunnels

and air didn’t come cheap these days

so people sold limbs, lovers and loved ones

just for a gasp of air

and all I could think is is why not?

The sky’s the limit when your living soul is at stake

Posted at 11:31pm and tagged with: poetry, spilled ink, personal, life, creative writing, poem,.

I am a hunter of waves

I see a gesture

I feel her smile here

I sense a prickle there

and off I am

a bird with new wings

learning where I start and end

because the abyss can open up whenever

one blink, a stammer, an uncontrollable pulse

and off you are sliding

giving in so easily

what took centuries to make

and forgetting what it means to play

where laughter has died

and find rhythm

where songs have left

Posted at 4:35pm and tagged with: spilled ink, poetry, poem, personal, creative writing,.