By Jonathan Chibuike Ukah
A finger tossed at sea,
water floating over it.
I stared at it with a red face,
until my cheeks had cakes of blood;
There must be something missing
from its source, a gap, an opening,
A hand must be defective;
then the head, the blood, the body
And the whole sanctuary of man,
is about to float on the water.
I saw a lung spinning in the air,
cycling in the wind like a cyclone,
Whirling, whizzing, flailing,
something must be missing,
In the air that I breathe;
where I think, where I feel,
The skull and inside my brain
and in my blood and bones;
The whole sanctuary of man
is about to drop one by one
On the surface of the ground.
I have tried to lift a body without a finger,
To breathe without a lung,
to live without a pint of blood.
I attempted to scale the hurdle of pain
and live like a piece of light.
I wanted to fly without wings,
or swim without fins,
but I fail, I fail;
I am but an atom, an island,
Dry, coarse and incompetent.
what a lonely, miserable creature
Have I grown backwards to be?
had I these things that I missed,
I would have wanted more.
I should have done more.