The limits of ease & disease

 

                                                           

Paradigm One:

 

A garden where you test the thorns of the rose, those

Affections & defections plus harvested defects

You have to remember to forget,

The health officer tells you to tell yourself

So you have to dig up the blight from the depths of your feelings

Here, in exile where you learn to recognize yourself

 

A garden you plant your plight

A harvest you invest your expense

Your ease now disease

 

Paradigm Two:

 

The playground

Where mates dress up in armours, battling

Which friendships and enmities shake hands & empty their differences

We are playing in death’s backyard, writing

Each aftermath as the will of the worst

 

The players become the game,

Sometimes the care, sometimes the scare

That doubles the troubles

 

Paradigm Three:

 

The other colonial agenda in fruition  

Space-DELETE-space

Man-DELETE-woman

Which the bedroom wars & ‘rapescapades’ declare

 

And the colony seeks its ease in disease, too

Wanting to live in the shadow of defeat

Perhaps a suicide or continuation of battle by other means

 

Paradigm Four:

 

Your blood the flood, where Leviathan lays eggs

The ancient conflict between heaven and hell now happens

In your blood, in your being telling

This incubation & the hatching of the next world

 

 

Don’t tempt the tempter, says the preacher

Don’t ask for aid wrapped in AIDS

That wraps your future up for the kingdom-gone

 

 

 

 

Prescription

(for the cure of corruption in a democrazy)

 

                

3 tablets  ikoyiprisonmycin, 2ce, before & after rigged elections

1 tablet , firingsquardforcrimeagainsthumanityrone   3ce daily

2 ml spoonful confiscationillegallyacquiredwealthmetamorpholinguisterine, 2ce daily

3 caplets outrightdismissalinteraxometosyne, once daily

1 tablet banholdingpublicofficeamoxopoesieline, 3ce daily

                                                                                                             

 

 

 

sometimes i forget

     

       

my shine brighter than suns,

yet weak, travailing, like the tongue

of a dying candle

my voice louder than thunderclaps 

yet faint, a labouring gurgle

through the blocked pipes, tuboids 

sharing action with dozing dizzying oils

my logic wigged to bench

strangles the opponent's rhetoric,

yet drooling, dragging its sins

into the public sanctity

my body a network of thrills

messaging this after that into those

miracles of water & blood & brain

sometimes i forget 

this fleshed up experiment

this piece of animation --

the first model of a tech

tried by a maker

 

 

© Obododimma Oha

 

See also: Editorial Health & Illness

 

Editorial While the He/art Pants