Cactus
Yours is a snowshoe devotion
—a heart built for all weather.
Friends say you’re prone, that
You’re made up of small bones
Of emotions. Tendon of smile,
Vein of laughter— you’re soft
& warm like the bosom of sky!
But how do you keep
The lungs longing—
How do you breathe
Under a pile of sad songs?
How do you dredge an oasis |
In the Sahara of compassion?
When love becomes extreme sport,
You become a bowl of sacrifice
At conjugal crossroads—
A Fibonacci of sentiments
& survival.
Bug
The sun is cheerless.
The uber ride, prosaic.
This afternoon, I’m working alone—
paid to pry, pervade intimate spaces.
I allow myself to dream
as I navigate private terrains.
Allow fringe fantasies take me
away from the unpleasantness
of riffling through chests
of undies & medicines.
Of frisking furniture,
draperies & decor
for static ghosts.
I do not find a bug—
I have never found one.
I do not find a hidden camera.
I fear I will stumble on a secret
dollar stash or exotic sex toys.
I find vanity in abundance.
I find riches gathering mold.
I find a poem in every cabinet
—a set of Louis Vuitton glass,
an assortment of luxury scents
& peculiar spirits
I do not find a bug—
only designer paranoia
& expensive nightmares
Dinner
water rushes
from a sink faucet
the simmering of soup
is masked by fluttering lid
& hissing fire—cocktail
of sounds & aroma
from your kitchen
twists knobs within me.
I wait with an appetite
of washed cutlery &
a bed of China…
You come to me sizzling,
naked proteins dripping oil
—a full plate of desire.
Featured Image by Faith ‘Creative’ NK
Jide Badmus is not a new handwriting on the white paper. In fact, his pen is a religious explorer of this aesthetic terrain. I like reading him. 🤠👍👌💕