There is poetry
in nature.
The way you
breath is poetry.
Meandering of the
river is poetry.
There's poetry
in rainfall.
The songs of
the wind is poetry.
The harsh anger
of the cyclone
is poetry.
There's poetry in
a child's laughter.
The piecing eyes
and the toothless
grin of a
child and the
elderly is poetry.
Poetry is written
everywhere,
even in glistering
star in the
galaxy.
Beauty is poetry,
and the ugliness
of discarded things
are poetry too.
There's poetry
hidden everywhere
you look.
The art of
cooking is poetry.
The heart expresses
itself in poetry.
Love is poetry.
Life itself is
poetry written in
the sand of time.
There's poetry
everywhere and in
everything,
if only you
can look.
©2019,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

I’m not a religious person
I’m not a Christian
I’m not a Muslim
I’m not a Buddhist
I’m not any of these
Or any other

I don’t believe there isn’t a god
I don’t deny God
I don’t deny Allah
I don’t deny Nirvana
I don’t deny any outside force
I just don’t follow their rules

I want to be my own believer

In a drop of you, I lost an ocean of me.

Your eyes,
So familiar
Looked like a window
Felt like a mirror
So I avoided your gaze
Afraid
If i stared for long enough
I would start to see
everything I
despised
In human form
Your eyes,
Like a mirror
Confronting the deepest
sorrows
Giving them a voice
To speak
To exist
Anywhere other than
the poisoning smoke
Of a fire
Your eyes,
Like a mirror
Knew where to look
Like cleared throats
Masking swallowed words,
Collapsing lungs,
But they were silent
for a reason
I didn’t want you to reach
that far back
Or come this close
To the truth,
Your eyes,
Like a mirror
I shall shatter
Like I do
To everything that makes me see.

Have you ever felt
you loved someone that
you hated the person?

Have you ever felt
you knew everything that
you knew nothing?

Have you ever felt
the overwhelming happiness and grace that
you manifested signs of sadness?

Have you ever felt
the burning heart inside
though you are soaked outside?

Feeling feelings,
i do not fully understand
what they are
but they color the blank sheet of life –

She controls her laughter,
lets it slip from the edge of her mouth,
the corners of her lips lift ever so slightly,
then, she makes a sound,
seamlessly, her fingers graze my thighs,
smoothly, her eyes meet mine,
and in her eyes, I see my reflection—
aflame, abashed, and fiery,

She is the answer I’ve scoured the world for,
and yet, she, herself, remains a mystery,

Ah, I see,
She controls her laughter
as easily as she controls me.