3 poems by Labeja Kodua Okullu

PLAIN SPEECH

… i start every poem with ellipses,

building something great  

in the distance,  

vision warped,  

dinner with friends,  

tender, fragile,  

hold it to the sunlight,  

sometimes

‘i am thankful i’m alive right now’, shouldn’t be too hard to say.  

i wish the words came easily,  

they grab the walls of my throat,  

fight me like a fragile dam,  

hold back the onslaught,  

beauty is a woollen jumper

rosebuds bloom in may,  

pollination is a light kiss

harvest some praise songs,  

fine like a fresh fade, rise,  

dripping sweet juice  

i want to read a poem by a friend  

and hear ‘i’m still figuring out the line breaks’  

and is it not nice to share a dream with someone

bound these words like ntoma,

around yourself,  

dance kete or adowa,

this is a funeral, a celebration of life,  

in the presence of death, i smile,  

a golden stool at my feet.  

Okomfo kom, monye kom.  

be quiet, the priest is in a trance,  

he speaks with no adornments

no ellipses, clear and bright

and i hear him say

,don’t talk around the corners, come to me direct’.

at a valentines DJ event

Hijacked from Hani Salih

in a red room,   waiting  

for the next round and  

Marvin Gaye wandered in,  

and as i watched the performances,  

i wished for their mastery,  

       their ability,  

        their play.  

i wish to know the course,  

chart it and navigate it,  

swallow it whole.  

in this yearning, i forget  

the  lifetime of fighting indolence.  

bundled up in my powder blue coat,  

i dance through the city, shuffle  

my feet to the sound of the other city  

Marvin throws his paint over.    What's happening brother?  

i felt a shifting,  

friction giving way  

to a soft heat.  

embers to the waning fire.  

what stands beyond the lick of light

shy of its weakened reach.  

a being that  grants forgiveness,  

at a weighty price.  

can i afford the providence?  

am i in debt to the liturgy?  

this is not a conscious piece, it’s a chisel to a burgundy face.   Oh mercy mercy me.

ALL EARTH, WIND AND FIRE IMAGINED WHEN MAKING ‘FANTASY’

♫  

these shiny suits  

lie across the floor,  

and melt into the earth.

trees grow fruit full of sweetness,

trapped in a vacuum of time.

figures dance in the dirt

partnered with totems

creating a new world.

move between  

ballad, funk

and ‘despite, we shall dance’,  

because we’re lonely, we hype,  

scream in the evenings

to every wet brow,  

stare at the feet  

of every partner,  

hold them tight, meet eyes,

meet future, meet possibility.

headbands sweat a fury,

‘why won’t you just let me groove’,

shimmering with rage

carry us to a world with delights,

♫♫

i draw my family into illustrations

with well-muscled sentences

i take my mother’s hand

dance a two step  

to a highlife tune,  

in a kitchen

the sweat of soup  

pouring down the walls

i lay my head on her shoulder,  

she is in a golden gown

head against her chest,  

our heartbeats match.

 she stitches all my dreams for me,  

♫♫♫

—————-

Labeja is a Ghanaian-British writer who lives in London. He has published poetry with Forward Poetry and Rattle magazine and contributes personal essays with The Smart Set magazine.