How To Be Honest

By Reginald Chinuwa 13 months ago

Once upon a time
In childhood
Our tongue was the lover of our eyes
We saw the invisible
-whispers from faraway -
Until daydreams married nightmares
And fledgling demons doodled
Twinkling lines of terror in our aqueous humour
The cat's will persuaded our feet
To walk miles away from home
While meals missed our milk teeth.

What was the first monster we saw?
The deathly fall of an electric pole?
The second monster?
The bubbling ripples above a drowning girl's head?
The third monster?
Speeding tires screeching beside your scurrying feet?
The fourth?
The nauseous stream of your blood painting the white sand red?
The fifth?
Stunning - obscene - images on a screen?
The sixth?
Your right hand clutching your aching shoulder
As you slip on spilled water?
your left hand shielding your eyes from the crash of a raised belt
But we know the confluence
Of tears and mucus on our lips.

So our eyes remained in our head
Refusing to tell our tongue secrets
But our tongue married silence
Though she was in love with speech
And the uneasy romance prevailed
Until our head craved solitude
compelled to feed these wildfires we call emotions

Now we are in the present,
Ever-familiar with the subtlety of our
Colours, wielding weapons - fragile bombs -
What are yours?
pens, books and musical instruments
And we sing
we write
Dreams on our skins.

Arguments are born to feed on our voice
Undead debates drift in the air
And we breathe
They sting and we sneeze,
Spreading complications
To every street in our city.

We are Masters of the Scale
Nurtured with obscurities, trained to resist
Nature's warmth
that beating sun inside us - the one filled with blood -
(the fundamental temperature of purity)
We hear and listen,
We nod and smile
We bless them
             Oh, that's true!
             Thank you, sir!
We measure time effectively, poorly, sadly and happily
Fusing separately similar hormones
pleasure erases pain,
pleasure resuscitates pain
We are in control, aren't we?
But our knowledge walks blindly
Because we build fortresses in falsehood
Yet we are Masters of the Scale
And we measure everything we own.

Why?
It's because the heart will swell and burst
If we don't - measure everything!
Then our responsibilities and insecurities collide
constitituents separating, waxing cold but contained by a delusion
We are in control, aren't we?

Can the sun be frozen?
Yes and no - who knows?
The wildfires burn but we protect
Our gardens from these scorching trials
Why?
It's an impulse because deep down,
We know how to be honest.

Nothing will change
Until we let the heat water our flowers
And this time the petals
- a fragrance of binding beauty -
Will shatter the thickening ice
And our tongue will be reunited with our eyes
To see and taste all that we should know
In a realm where nightmares are decomposed
where glimmers of hope blind and paralyse monsters

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Reginald Chinuwa
@Wordswill
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