The Cupid Of Dubai

By Shegun Rex Omonla 10 months ago


If  I set my eyes on Blue I will feed her

Thunders and earthquake_

if I catch the wig of lustrous stars

she will be an egret

smitten on coquina knoll_

she wasn’t deaf when I enunciated that

love is a gulch

gulping hands

that love  is a  shrapnel that bursts

the body and turns the tongue into

never-ending hoops

lipped by jagged crimson

the Heart, a trench  of graves_

When I uttered things

about my parents

She asked if I’ve ever walked

in nippy rain at the season of rapid fires_

Blue wasn’t deaf,

The glossy cupid sipped the

redolent saga_

When my  father was a youth

He was broken to grits

by the girl In whose

body he captured wisps of love_

He still talks to himself

about the sweet angel _ ,

the Cupid of Dubai

How she’s a bird that flied away

when he’s  yet a body

in the body of balmy water _

He’s still a burden_

A ghost ,

stock-still and peripatetic _

At eighty-five he’s still

a tongue in fetters_

The whole of his heart

the membrane of tousled crypt_

My mother’s beauty –

the beauty of the Zimbab girl

who saw in his body-

the plummeting body

years following

tendrils of love

was unable to extinguish

The affinity of yesteryears

Her featheriness failed to crack

the bond of gone days

she’s far from zapping

the memory of  the lost bird

More reason I loathe love

African women are quartzite

not solvents, not pliable

I wanted my mother to go away

I expected her to be a jogging narwhal

I wanted her to forsake the hunted man

The dreaming man

The drowning man

sticking to broken memories

To where her body would be an oasis

a spike merging hearts

To the place she will be more

than the silhouette of an

Inconsequential paraphernalia

But she claimed that

love goes with peoples’


And It’s why people are

here and there like air

More here most there

My father offered his heart

to the bird that flied away

And she has given

hers to my father

And its

why she’s not moved

by my father’s tactless blows,

the aromatic camaraderie

And it’s why she is a gigantic granite

In the fur of the diatribes and tirades

of a liquefying patriarchy _

When Blue intoned that in my

body she’s  seeing tresses

of love, tufts  of passion

I point-blank informed

the lily of Sharon I hate love

Because it turns  people

To cambers

To palms holding fire and

while they burn they want to hold on

I told Blue I’ve chosen to stay away from passion

That I’ve got not the heart

to be a palm holding ripe cinders

And while I burn I want yet to hold on

Today my father is here and away

Today he’s domesticated but

out in the wilderness of prickles

his countenance

particles of forlorn noose

If you step into his nub

he’s sepulchral,


And stilted


my mother is a

decomposing African woman

Begging to be sexed _

Imploring hands to

fondle  the teats of her mountains

Her lips valued as valleys of paradise

In the pause of passion

Today she is a tigress in the silo of woe

Urging the tongue of barbed wire

To nuzzle the sugary edges

With craze and ardor_

Today while my father is inside

the body of my mother

He’s far way inside the body of the lost bird

Today while my mother forces

the stunted rope of my father

To waltz inside her open body

Her tears are high-speed rivulets and burning crimson_

Because when you are busy loving

Someone and the folk is busy loving

Another folk Things with the

teeth of porcupine quills

Have a way of gashing things

Within the pit of your 


Because each time

I turned to my father

He’s a skeleton a million miles away

Because each time I looked at my father

I saw the man who can’t love again

because he  was broken by love

Because each time I turned to my mother

Her face was a map in bruises

Because each time I turned to my parents

They were waters lost in muted prayers

Because when I turned to them

I saw torn egrets

& hogs reeking like

the inside of mausoleum

Because each time

I turned to my parents

I saw folks who ought to let go

But never let go because they can’t let go_

Because when I looked at my parents

I saw what love do to people

That love ties us down

sinks into our body

& sucks us to fleas

I told Blue I was not an eunuch

my testicles were far away from castration

but I only choose to stay away from love,

from women so that love will not find me

so that like my father I won’t be

fingers in the crux of hellhole

Flesh getting scythed in pangs of conflagration

But chooses to linger

I don’t want frayed memories to be

my breakfast My Lunch and my dinner

I don’t want to be preoccupied

in the bird that flied away

That in the eyes of women I

see the bird that flied away

But Blue said I was battling with the past

That what the past deserves

Is an edge in the abyss

Of forgetfulness

That she’s the lily of Sharon

that she’s different that

she’d love me forever

But when i offered the whole of

my heart To Blue

in smile-rimmed salver

She saw things in the

sky and just fly away

If I set my eyes on Blue I will feed her rivers

if I catch the wig of  lustrous

stars she will be an egret smitten on coquina knoll_

so that in the next world  she will

count miles inside her body before falling in love

with the offshoot of the body lost

in the body of the bird that flied awa

Recommended Stories:

{{item.User.FullName}} {{item.Date | preetify}}



{{sub.User.FullName}} {{sub.Date | preetify}}



create stories


{{item.Date | preetify}}

No Notifications Here Yet