Yesterday, I slept on Mama’s breasts

And I was prisoner to delusive thoughts

Illusory reality was a prisoner too,

Prisoner of my mind, of my eyes

Yesterday, the night mirage turned

My mind into phantom clouds

And I hid behind the smokescreen,

But stung by a shooting star,

I retreated to the pillow I made

Out of Mama’s delicate breasts

THE ECHOING MICROPHONE

On this morning occasion,

A great feast, our Lord’s celebration

I heard the pulpit talk

And thereafter,

I heard him in a million ways

And laughter sprang up in the air

The seats gave a standing ovation

With their all moving thirty-twos

Was it a trick?

Then, everywhere as still as the sun

As we all cheered

Our talking and echoing microphone

Okuwoga Eyimofe was born and lives in Lagos, Nigeria. He loves visual art and literature. His works have been published in Parousia Magazine, Black Boy Review, Sun Literary Review, Brittle Paper, The Kalahari Review, Conflict Breed, and Sprinng Literary Movement among others. He is a co-editor at BU Gist. He curates a literary blog; Articulate [eyimofeokuwoga.wordpress.com]

The post Poems by Okuwoga Eyimofe first appeared on Prachya Review.