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Showing posts from August, 2011

Now I Am My Father

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When I was a little boy
I thought my father was big
I thought my father was strong

And when he stood like a mountain over me
Ricochets of his voice hitting me from the walls
The world would lose all hiding places

Was she his conspirator?
Was she my savior?
My mother, she would silently look on

The first day I disagreed with him
I remember the way he rose
Raised his hand and then quietly receded

I looked down at him
Felt my strength so strong
And I watched him walk away in a silent concession

Now I look down at my little boy
And wonder how long it would be
When he looks back down at me

2011© Jude Ifeme




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The Graveyard

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If you walk past the white stonewall
Push back the quiet gate, through the rows of tombs,
Immerse yourself in the dead silence

You’ll for a moment fear – for your breath
Might ruffle the still observing trees or disturb the dead,
You might feel a sudden rush to sob, pray – give your honor

To unfulfilled dreams now mere inscriptions on cold slabs,
To the bones and rotten remains that once carried
Intelligence; emotions, faith, aspirations!

You’d realize that life itself is an honor only to the conscious,
That breath is a gift and that man is but a bundle of dreams
And that the graveyard is not for lifeless remains, but halted dreams.

2011©Jude Ifeme




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