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Blood Rain

Wednesday, May 9, 2012.

And you got in late,
You smelled potato
Crushed and chips
And you birched
And did you yawn?
No, you saw the brims
And you looked back
And then you saw
Empty spaces
You saw crashed pieces
Of dead rats
And they stared back at you
And you blinked
And left
 In a daze of that night
They are here again
And you can see them
And then you left in your
Memory
And you have seen beyond you
And you saw it alone
But they stare at you
You decided to live
Again - the long
And the last of all
You saw flies in
The open sores
Communing in the
Peace of now,
And you killed after-now
You did not want to see again
You would want them
Gushed out for the last time
You know
They are now spent
They are spent in dead
Places
You loved them before
And you would want
To go again
You like the lore
Of dancing scars
The scurrying petals
Of flesh drained
In yesterday
Then you came back
And you saw them too
You saw the trees
Grow in the memories
You saw the shallow
Legs of water lilies
You saw that they are
Now naked in the sun
And you saw their nudity
And you saw your soul
Bare and longing
For your real self
Then you left again
They are naked to their
Soul too!
You saw the bowels of the
Ants
You scurried through the rotten
Entrails
And you voyaged through
The recesses of dark clays
And of strangulated blood
And you might even
Want to vomit once again
Though you drank
From the dark spring
In the heart of the rituals
You would need to die,
Again-
You have seen the spills
And you are now on
Your rite of passage
You have seen the
Straying flesh of broken souls
You have gone deep in your
Head
But you would not need                               
To mention the images
In your head spinning
With pictures of new art
The new calling in the
Rite of blood-
The blood culture of the
The hot-footing Now
You would not want to
Mention any – even
To Edna –as she sat 
Sprayed in false art –
You looked away from
The restless clitoris
You do not think it
Should worth yourself –
Your lonely self –     
Your world, which
You just want to live
Alone –at least for now
And neither did you see
The sagging beasts-
You purposely made this choice
But she deceived you
Anyway –
You believed what you saw
You only saw
A pair of inflated sham
And you are okay with it
All the same –
And you have told her
Once –
She begged you to taste her
And you tasted and
Got drowned
And that, for you,
Should be a matter for
Another you-
You are okay with the self
You have today –
You want to live in your world
For once – the acrid
Smells of flesh have deadened
Your lobes
And that is why you
Accept the patches of
Blood on the pad
She may be getting reborn
But you don’t care
Then you came back again
And you looked at the deal
In the blood stream –
The weak nerves curling
Sheepishly and begging for mercy
Which you haven't got
Back since you drank
From that cup
On that gray moon-
"Baby, forgive me for this
Last time, I am dying in my
Soul – help me out
This once and
You can even throw me out
Through the holes, my
Soul would remember
That I once loved the
Wrong soul and I will
Be reborn..."
She sang and you looked
Away as she drenched
Your lips with wets from
The deep vents-
You saw a mermaid rise
But you looked away
She lost her wing and
Got them back but
You have left again
You have travelled to
The home of your
Religion – Blood!
You saw that it makes
No difference if it
Is left to dry forever
In the deserts of savanna
Or spilled in the ocean,
For you, they are
Just the same-
There is no difference
At all-
Blood or no blood!
And you even wonder
Why you drink it
Rather than let it
Spill and flow for
Plants to grow –
There it must have been
Reborn-
And that exactly is your
Own truth-
No matter what they claim
To be theirs –
You don't seem to care
And you have succeeded
In giving your own
Definition, just like
They take it that theirs
Is the best and nothing
Else should survive
And you smiled at
Them
Because you thought
That is the height of
Folly –
And you only pity your
Mother
And you could still see
Dark patches of sweat
All over her body as
She struggles to get out
Of the wooden house
In the grave – pushing
And spitting at the
Builders –long left to
Rot away
You pity her because she
Only strives to leave      
Her new abode and
Try another –
And you know within you
That by so doing, she hates all                                                             
And then you caught
Your depth religion
And you wish to
Start with:
When madness
Escapes into the public
Domain and
Suddenly you broke the pen
And spilled the ink
On the first letter
That appeared
And buried it there –
For another you

© 2012

Ejiofor Ugwu lives in Nsukka, Nigeria. He is Poetry Editor for The Muse, a journal of creative and critical writings at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka since 1963, No. 40. His poetry has appeared in the Drumtide magazine, USA, and The Muse.

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