The Quest for Joy in a Modern World - Taiwo Hassan

these days, i’m a china on the tip of a cupboard,

one push away from breaking, peace in pieces.

i see the shattered shards already, a vessel after vertigo,

that split second of silence, i perceive the flames in me.

nothing burns more than a hungry soul

a scavenger craving for attention crumbs in instagram posts,

just one message after the numerous pictures left,

that table. blind are my eyes, darkness, a mirror.

the blandness of my favorite songs anger me more,

even ewúro struggles to describe the essence these ears savor.

& slowly, i haemorrhage into everything

that speaks the language of emptiness.

so i try, i squeeze the rest of me into this poem, with high hopes

life can once again throw seeds of smiles my way,

and true joy can be a lush tree.

that perhaps, adele’s easy on me will unburn into words,

and a poem can once again be a salve,

capable of filling this pit i hold, these elements that eat at me bite after bite.

that perhaps, twitter will not look like a blank paper

& the posts on facebook can once again make my lips twitch

or even stretch out the thirty-six, no, thirty-five stones beneath.

that perhaps I can sleep to wake up & say I had a good night rest.

that’s if anyone asks, did you sleep well?

---

Taiwo Hassan (20th century) Nigeria

Source: Brittle Paper