7420993794_96538873a5_k

Music,
is smiling in the house of Inspiration;
is sitting on a cushion between this bedroom
& the balcony of imagination;
is feeding the poet — the solitary being — grains of imageries,
words, & sentences like never before;
is beating the heart of lovers —
hum-bum-bum — sings the crazy gong!
is asking the naked girl,
“bae, aren’t you overdressed?”

living ghosts in whispering trees;
& rusting irons in a river of grease.

I

When the dimple is no more
on the check of the composer;
& the stage is sleeping beneath
the moonless night; and the
audience is snoring on different beds,
beside different babes
uncomfortable in their own different ways;
& the night is calm and silent,
like Silent Night on a Christmas day—
a ritual of the modern man on the altar of disguise;
don’t ask me which is my favourite song.

Please, don’t ask such question,
Life is an autograph but only
in the hands of singers and poets:
an Abstraction viewed so far
from ten thousand point of views:
a Glove in Jackson’s, Violence in Shady’s,
& Youthful Playfulness in One Direction;
Did he not tell you? The other Direction
Is Death by drowning.

The Infant cries in strange melodies,
rain harmonizes with the win,
the midwives will sing a lullaby, and backyard
buckets will beat tap-tap beatings of raindrops;
there is terror in music which ears may not hear—
thunderstorms in loudspeakers—
when facing the other Direction.

II

Anger chained me to the chair of The Lunatic—
these people: strange in their white ropes
said, ‘He’s mad,’ with a Foreign Accent;
Anger chained me to the chair of The Lunatic—
But Music set me free!
Made me whistle a solemn song
From the album of Peace,
The Dovey Bird sings — twikki-twikki —
With its loveliest note.
Music set us free & made me

A living ghost in whispering trees;
& a rusting iron in a river of grease.

Dear Countrymen, were we in that Bush alone?

 

*********

Image by David Glad via Flickr

About the Author:

Portrait - MelchizedekIsaac alesh Melchizedek writes from Ibadan. His twitter handle is @IM_alesh

Tags: , ,

I hold a doctorate in English from Duke University and recently joined the Marquette University English faculty as an Assistant Professor. I love teaching African fiction and contemporary British novels. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

2 Responses to “The Last Song Before The Last | by Isaac Alesh Melchizedek | African Poetry” Subscribe

  1. Sam Adeyinka 2015/11/27 at 13:50 #

    Hey Alesh, welcome to Edoro’s great blog. Really, it’s my first time on this blog and I’m already liking the look and fill of the blog, in short, I’m taken by your comment section. 🙂 Mind telling what tool you used for that?

    So speaking of the poem, I love the way the author, Alesh weaved up the words and the ideas behind every texts.

    Music in true sense creates a sense of inner-bliss in the one under it influence. I’m for instance taken totally by Don Williams and Kenny Rogers lyrics anytime I heard them sing via my smartphone and my black-handsfree.

    Alesh, ones again, I salute your writing style. Edoro, expect me to contact you okay.

    Sam

  2. alesh 2015/12/02 at 21:40 #

    Thanks for dropping by Mr Sam.

Leave a Reply

I hold a doctorate in English from Duke University and recently joined the Marquette University English faculty as an Assistant Professor. I love teaching African fiction and contemporary British novels. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Archives

The Public Execution | by Olisa Onyekaonwu | African Fiction

execution

“…long after the van had taken off…the cry of the prisoner still hovered in the air, like the aroma of […]

The Hummingbird | by Kofi Sey Simpson | African Poetry

hummingbird

“A mockery, designed to quell my grace in flight.”   In this cage, everything is upright and strong, Each bar […]

Ripples | by Miracle Amaka Nwokedi | African Fiction

ripples

“Unlike most mothers in Umuona, Mama did not possess that inner eyes of a mother to make out her daughter’s […]

How the Huza Press Prize for Fiction is Reshaping Rwandan Literature

huza prize

It was the pressing need to reclaim our narrative, which as many of you are aware was being largely told […]

PHOTOS: Chibundu Onuzo Redefines the Classic Literary Book Launch Party

chibundu (1)

A few days ago, book lovers gathered at London’s Southbank Center for the launch of Chibundu Onuzo’s second novel, Welcome […]

Teju Cole is a Finalist for PEN America’s Richest ($75,000) Prize

teju cole 3

Congrats to Teju Cole for being named a finalist in what might be PEN’s most prestigious prize yet. The PEN/Jean […]