MEDITATION
THE SILENT SCREAM
A scream too
silent to be heard
But its echo
draws the string
Of my heart to
a breaking point.
A seed of lust
and love,
An unfortunate
guest to a happy duo.
His presence
eclipsed their sun.
He was invited,
though at a wrong time.
Cradled
innocently in the ancient bowl of nature,
He plans to
bring joy to his host.
But lo, she
plans otherwise!
“He will
expose me to the mocking eyes
That my home,
though pretty without, is unkempt within.”
And so, armed
with pills (not dagger) and spurred
By Macbeth
this time, Lady Macbeth repeats
The act in the
classic tale.
Not for
ambition, but reputation.
And while
Duncan snores innocently
In the ancient
bowl of nature
She pierces
his heart with pills
And ushers him
into everlasting sleep.
“Now I make
him dumb forever,”
She thinks,
but she thinks wrongly.
For while she
strikes him,
Shocked by a
blow from the host
He plans to
bring joy to, the
Sleeping guest
lets out a silent scream:
A scream that
wakes conscience
To revenge for
him and draws the
Assailant’s heartstring
to a breaking point;
A scream that
reminds her that her hand drips
Indelible and
guiltless blood of a sleeping guest;
A scream too
silent,
But could burst
the eardrums of her conscience.
Where Goes Each Fallen Petal
How it stabs
my soul
To behold soluble mass of mobile dust
Dissolve
to a place unknown
And a face
well-read
Becomes a
faint memory!
Oh! How it stabs
my heart
To behold a
rosebud bloom
In the morning
time
And shrink to
dust
In the evening
tide
When eyes and
mind
Savour its
blossom.
Then, beauty
turns to horror
As a weary
petal, once strong
Ceases to hold
but
Falls on the
floor and turns to dust.
As it falls, a
new bud is formed to repeat the cycle.
But where goes
each fallen petal?
Where?
(First published in “The Muse”. Nsukka: University of Nigeria Printing Press, 2005)
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