Poetry

James Nachtwey/WPP

 

By

Micheal Ace

 

 

Where We Came From

 

 

I wrote a song the day father left

I wept and sang it into a farewell

He may find the way home tomorrow

But this song shall soon taste freedom

I came from where mothers break

Leaving their pieces in their daughters

 

Sometimes

The best way to win a war

Is to never start one

 

We came from where heroes’ tears

Flow into the bloodstream of dreams

Beating our bones to glyphs of hope

We came from where we say wishes

With our eyes somewhere on our lips

Watching us off the feats of echoes

 

We came from where the black’s fate

Were perfect home for metal shackles

We came from where we watch lights

And call them remains of broken stars

We came from where we burn in fury

But hid the flames in our fake smiles

 

Sometimes

No other force will kill a warrior

But the doubts in his own mind

 

We are the descendants of cowards

Who left their heroes on lips and scripts

But continued by the rules of slavery

We think we have found our freedom

Because we do not see the boundages

But I still hear them in our anthems

 

If we are too scared of a day-break

Then we may never see another night

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her Silence

 

 

I sat upon the cracked earth

Where the pores had forgotten the notes

Of their solemn and sweet songs

I bent my hips upon the sands

Thinking if the bed rocks had rolled

And let out a phase of the underworld

 

If the sun had not lost her face

Or the way it blushes far up in the sky

My skin would be in its golden shades

If only my heart would pretend not to ache

And my feet would wait for my mind

I wouldn’t have ran a thought over those days

 

She’d hide under the guises of love

And gesture her nib to letters of commitment

She’d watch as I break the moon on her head

And cry till my muscles grow weak and soft

Her blouse would fly over her chest

In a pace that beats the rhythms of fear

 

She’d remind me of how I was a man

How I could bring her roads to a bend

And how the veins on my hands were greened by authority

She’d roll her anger up the tiny edge of her wrapper

And rub war against the soft bosom of silence

She’d leave me to the wraths I feel

 

But soon, my heavens were made to fall

Because she’d blown the wind of death

Even when my soldiers were off guard

She’d taught me, that silence is war

Especially, the ones brewed on the tongues of women

She’d battled my man, and I have lost all bits of pride

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Micheal Ace

Micheal Ace is an African-born poet and writer who hails from  Osun State, Nigeria. He began his writing career professionally in the year 2012 with essays and articles and is currently the vice president of World Union of Poets-Nigeria Chapter. He is also the Founder and CEO at ACEworld.

He recently released an anthology “THEMANTHOLOGY OF NIGHT” alongside a poetry legend Funsho Richard of U.S.A. The thematic anthology successfully featured 50 poets all across the globe.

He believes in a self-muse which has always been the instigator behind his consistency: “The world is too complex for a pen to remain idle.

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