MANY VOICES by Oma
When I Grow Up
Mama,
when i grow up i want to be free
i would like to have wings like the birds
to fly.
Mama,
when i am big i would like to teach
just read good books in the library and maybe write.
Mama,
why did god pick this lifetime
to have me walk in destiny
and know at the same time it would require my death
and yours.
A god's lonely
I feel so alone
even though good people tell me they are with me
I feel so alone
even though i have managed to survive my life
I feel so alone
because someday somewhere
god buried a shitload of genius in my chest
in this lifetime all it wants to do
is come out in exchange for my life.
Expecting The Unexpected
Two words combined with silence makes a prayer
this is what they meant by where three are gathered
imagine what your life can become in a second
everything good-everything great-everything beautiful
will come.
Theory Of Detachment
the feminine is greater in manifest reality
the masculine must master discipline
in spirit all things are supreme
all things are equal
all things are one
all things are center
in actuality all regions are mother
all elements are her
this is not a very good poem
an idea of truth has been denied justice
freedom there is no such thing
yet without restraints it leads right back
to bondage
this is a theory of detachment
that the feminine is greater than the masculine
however, all limited knowledge resemble wisdom but is not
in most cases relevant to anyone other than those who possess it
my question remains, how can anything be more relevant than the thing that gives it life.
What The Heart Wants
I just want to be loved
like i love
with full devotion
admirable commitment
wholeheartedly
Why must i threaten to marry my mother
pretend to not be interested
feign satisfaction
before my heart is honored
with reciprocal rhythms.
The Quest For Knowledge
may all things that refuse to bow before knowledge
fall to the ground in gratitude to understanding
may your cup be full of wisdom
may your smile never crack in pretense
may your heart be warm from the joy of learning.
Our Pets, Our Lives
What do you do when your cat is dying?
You mourn the dogs you never had
You mourn the mice you knew would never last a day in your house
You mourn everything you wish you could have had, but yourself.
3-6-9
they say Nikola invented this stuff
many cynics seem to think it's all bluff
i’d like to know if its foundation is love
many great practices are mastered by repetition
alot of great discoveries are found by intuition
they say people who daydream give into illusion
i advice to follow your gut and you’ll make a good decision
whatever is done well is usually done with precision
the best progress is often achieved when one is beyond reminition
prospect
aspect
potentiality
actuality
spirit
matter
soul-body
all birds with different feathers
moving
forward.
i saw a man die
when i think of this body as a burial ground
does that mean i am a burial ground?
i beg the question
the question begs me back.
sometimes as i lay in bed i wonder
if this man i knew would still be alive
if he did not touch that child, those children, me.
sometimes when i kneel to not pray
i wonder if my mother will ever find her way back to me
if i will dare to visit home, or home will dare to visit me.
sometimes i wonder if i would have said yes to the woman
the lady who laid hands on me
if she had asked me nicely.
my answers to all these questions are
yes, maybe and amen.
How Are Geniuses Made
(i)
i’ll tell you
in heavens memory
in heavens memory
in heavens memory one must pray
for the light of divinity
to run through one's veins as blood
one does not need to kneel to pray
one can simply think it does
and it will
and it will i tell you
it will become such a person's legacy.
(ii)
in ordinary things
with the simplest ones
through the tiniest lines
amongst the most unpopular
in the midst of the overlooked
outside the limelight
never really ever in disguise
one or two or three people always know
anyone with sense can sense it
divine intelligence
moving all over invisibly
visible on a fence through a mouth
in a mind with those hands
those ordinary hands
it channels through
as a school teacher
just your neighbor
that kid next door
across the street
letting the abnormalities in their life
groom them the uniquely normal
tragedy they carry makes more room
for god permitting each encounter
with darkness to intensify the light
till the light is all we see.
(iii)
i’ll tell you
you know
you know
no one can tell you what you don’t already know
sometimes it looks like the darkness
takes up more space
folks get overwhelmed
they give it credit
the whole time its the strain of the light
trying to get through us
to the rest of the world
sometimes it breaks
burns consumes the container
who tried so hard to contain it.
(iv)
so this is how geniuses are made
i told you i’ll tell you
in heavens memory
because you know
when you looked into that mirror
who did you expect to see?
Musings On Love
Love, it strips you
Other times it dresses you
Sometimes we know what we want with it
Other times we simply don't
Or at least we act like we don't
There is nothing ignorant about love
Nothing unclear about matters of the heart
Though we make it so
To sustain the conflict of being human
Anyway, i too have sown seeds of what i know
And acted when they grew, as though
They were fruits i could not know
This is really about all kinds of love
Contained within human reality, and
Not much to do with the one which sustains us
As source, the one which is center.
Roots Hotel
The boy who never came
we meet once
at the rooftop of that place
long hair - a beautiful man.
Everytime we connected
we disconnected
each time we wanted to meet
to make love
we never did get to it
god only knows why we never could
get to meet again
in a room with a bed
like we wanted to
maybe it knew
from how you looked
surrounded by brothers
fresh out of and into life
if we had kissed you would have fallen
hard, too hard into the life of an artist
who could only keep muses
or keep at surviving.
MY BODY IS A MAP THAT LEADS TO MADNESS
Spent some time this morning
Plucking hair strings off my chin
While standing before my mirror
Clouds of thoughts
Memories of conversations with mother
Gathered in my head
Trademarks of cultural history
Sometimes, i imagine my body as a map
The lines of my face, its loud eyebags
Firmly shaped lips reflect with certainty
That i am my mothers
As well as my grandmothers
The seasonal limp shows up in my hips
A chunk of flesh stands out in my left toe
The almost metallic firmness of my toenails
They let me know, i cannot erase all the parts of my father in me
But those hair strings on my chin and neck
Did not belong to my mother or father
They were igbo, marks of my family tree
They are a part of my heritage
Impartial antennas of my biological identity
The debut of my conflict with this reality.
Todays Sermon Is About This Plant
Today while i sort through random thoughts on why the things he said to me have nothing to do with my body or his, yet those things lingered with the weight of uncertainty at the tip of my hips
i recall i have a plant in my house a plant placed there by a stranger i recall this plant because though not as tall as me though without feet it still finds a way to walk into my room look over my head sit at a corner whisper into my ears, i need watering
and i say so do i, she that is watered will water; she that watereth shall be watered, amen.
We Share Our Marks and Names
if MODA wants to speak to me
she may speak freely
for i bear her name and wear her crown as much as mine
if MODA approves of all the things i can accomplish
who am i to disapprove of what she could not; through me
all i am trying to say through a digression is - this - that - at some point in life we must embrace how strongly we can come to love those we will never meet in person but always know firmly by heart;
in all of it, we must not confuse all forms of adorations as worship
illusion - MODA, is still a form of sight.
Come To Realize
Baby i love you
Baby i want you
Maybe i need you
But i no longer dream of you
Why’d you leave me
Why didn't you stay with me
Why’d you let me go
Now when i try to day dream of you
I go to sleep
I do love you
I do want you
Maybe i do need you
But why’d you do me so
My spirit forgives
My soul knows the devil
My body wants you
So you see me as whole
Why am i in conflict over you
My soul touched the devil baby
And the devil does not forget
But God knows
My spirit grows with you, still
So maybe in another lifetime
If you don't do me dirty
We can try again.
