24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I don’t dream anymore
But if I did
I would travel back in time
Back to my country
My state
My town
My city
I’d travel back even if no one went with me
Imagine that I would hear the beating of drums before reaching to coast
Only to find out it’s the ancestral heart beat that united to keep us close
My state
My town
My city
Everyone has a mule and acres of land
Everyone in the city travels in and out of reality
In my imagined city
I can always dream
CITIES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW
Or, Finding the MirrorMask
~inspired by the movie MirrorMask, written by Neil Gaiman
it’s a dream but it’s not a dream
because really it’s another world
this is a city of front and back
a city of light and shadow
a city created by dreams,
and drawings, and wishes
hopes and fish swim along the streets
sphinx cats will chew the pages of books
it’s always dim here, twilight, like in a dream
that’s part of how you can tell, unless
you are the type of artist who can easily recognize
your own work made life-size and living
so find the key and then
the lock and then the mirrormask
the last door left will take you home again
A mere drizzle last night
and this morning multiples
of tiny pools have formed
outside my door. Fetid, because
floodwater mingles with sewage
oozing from the leaky septic tank.
Garbage heaps clog drainage
channels and floodwaters reverse
into unfortunate streets
that haven’t seen electric light
in donkey months so power-generating
sets compete for the noisiest prize.
I wade through putrid pools
and on my way out get
trapped in a traffic jam.
Broken exhausts spew fumes
straight into my lungs,
give me watery eyes.
Hawkers stick their wares in my face
and this cure-all medicine dealer’s
spittle settles on my right cheek.
From the inner streets
worshippers’ loudspeakers
give me tinnitus.
Now a cantankerous commuter
duels with a danfo driver
over fifty naira change.
Across the road keke
drivers war with agberos
over illegal ticketing fees.
Blood smears tar as okada fleeing
uniformed extortionists claims
an unlucky pedestrian’s left limb.
Wallahi, this city is a circus
show it’d be fun to watch
if it wasn’t killing.
die young
time flows in unstoppable course
my rebellious mind is being swept away
if I want to live in the past or stay here in the present
how would I evade the future?
“The salivating aroma of the kitchen,
Is unique and beautiful.
A world of flavor and spice packed into sense,
Scents that make you yearn to taste,
Foods with such a lovely aroma must have a lovely taste.
My grandmother at the helm of the kitchen,
Like a captain aboard their ship,
Sailing across the seven seas of taste, and inspiration.
Soups and and meatballs,
And foods galore,
A feast for the eyes,
And a feast for the mouth;
A divine luxury,
Loyal to few.”
Choosing Life
Today,
my fate
has been decided
by a panel
of lifelong
politicians,
solemnly
sworn to
uphold and interpret
the laws of
this land,
put
in
place by
our Founding Fathers.
We gave them
their power,
but
who
gave them
permission to designate
my decision, determining
the path
which
I
must choose?
They cannot comprehend
the damage done
by choosing
Life.
****A hay(na)ku is a three line poem where the first line consists of one word, the second line has two, and the third line is composed of three words. A reverse hay(na)ku is three lines composed in the opposite fashion, of three words, then two, and one word for the final line. In the 2019 Poetry Marathon, I created the “Mirror hay(na)ku” by combining a hay(na)ku with a reverse hay(na)ku. In 2020, I took things a step further by compiling five mirror hay(na)ku stanzas and calling it a Hall of Mirrors Hay(na)ku.****
A prompt that couldn’t be more timely
as I stay in god’s own country
streets lively as can be
oh of course, it’s the capital city!
For me though, it’s so much more
it’s my summer vacation
my only connection to the city
This is where I grew up.
From finishing my handwriting homework
to researching college’s coursework
from enrolling in drawing classes
to enrolling in driving classes,
This is where I grew up.
Every vacation,
the zoo, the beach, the museum
the temples, the malls and family friends
oh there are lists of places to visit
Different kinds of Trees everywhere
coconut trees, Banana trees,
trees that are particularly pretty
and the language, well that’s just the best
A city with so much more to it
a city whose language is just as pretty
a city I’ve lived very little in
yet, one that feels so much more like home
But as I grew, those around me grew too
as my grandparents turn old
as the walls lose their strength
my family decides it’s time to let go of the house
I must tell you before I depart
that this city with its pretty trees,
the people, their language and their culture,
continue to win the hearts of every single visitor.
I have never really feared monsters
boogeymen in closets
demented clowns
things from other dimensions
Meh.
I grew up in the 1960s watching
50s B movies
Karloff, Lugosi epics saw
Godzilla as cute, not menacing
Fun
Now in my sixth decade I do
believe in monsters
they wear suits
don’t like us very much, they lie
Truth.
The real monsters slop from TV
like the blob
grotesque, like
the radiation scarred mad doctor
Yeah.
The monsters – the real threats –
walk among us
not as zombies – those would
just be us, who made the monsters
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2022
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