Patrick Monamodi Poems

Your hips—
resting upon my waist
like waves that never forget
how to embrace.
...

There is a kernel in my bosom—
twisting, turning and yearning,

wanting to be born;
...

Patrick Monamodi

While a lie has options,
truth remains—
...

Pain is a chain, I say-
threading down generations like an inheritance
Guilt wrapped in silence and sealed with shame.
...

O Woman,
Book of hidden wisdom,
Volume wrapped in velvet dusk,
Keeper of unwritten songs.
...

Two proud hills stand side by side,
Pointing skyward with slender pride.
Climb gently to the rocky crest,
Slide down smooth with whispered breath,
...

John is a composer of idioms,
a mixer of phrases,
a painter of poems.
John is not insane—
...

Is it raining on that side of the city—
raindrops keeping their small, secret rhythm
against your roof?
...

I have either been there,

or been close enough to know
...

I come from yesterday,
when echoes burned
and microchips had little to say.
...