Melanie Emikohe Poems

I want to stop writing too poetically
because even I, is unenamored
by such effortful mediocrity.
...

A fly met its death in my coffee.
I got no remorse.
What is compassion, I ask...
I once played tag with a rat
...

I would shut the puffy eyes to sleep
nothing will make them unswell.
Half the world is astral travelling
I'm still memorizing the ceiling.
...

A humming fan
a buzzing air conditioner
pitter patters
dogs growling at dogs
...

Spontaneity is the understated
language of love -
for it lacks the coaching
of rehearsed flower arrangement.
...

It is not enough
that men gaze at me
with lust and proclaim
my worth which
...

A trick of destiny entices
when the way is decided;
a pool of wine in a cup~
spills the rest, forsaken.
...

A stampede of feet
stirs his sullen silence;
stomped on his bed.
Outthere - of which
...

Good luck is very expensive.
Prejudiced to the deprived,
elusive to those with few,
and available for the lofty.
...

A crowd of four wives,
plump and forty to fifty
bare thick, rickety lips
own that side of the store.
...