Blow Out Wind Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(song for children blowing out termites from holes)

(i)

Blow, blow. Blow out
wind from a volcano's mouth.
Blow out storm
from a deep hole,

everything, every scale
creeping up. Creeping.
up with glass wings
not steered to fly high.

Breathe, breathe.
Breathe out silver from
bowels of the earth,
a simmering hearth poaching
dove and porpoise wings.

Sizzling coin and fossil feathers
to creep with grease bodies
wheeling them out
of the throat, a deep hole

sinking deep into a dropping
wind's tail sinking
into a tube planted, a green stem,

to grow out of homes
bunkered in a layer of life
screaming in strings
of chirps and fluted tweeters
with thin brushing beaks.

(ii)

Kissing air, as they jump up.
Licking stars from a far-flung sky
sinking down with chains
and bubbles of air

in nodules stringed each to each
in depths churning
flying life pushing out mouths
to a flat surface of earth,

all walking or skipping
with crickets of air
jumping into climbing heights
with wings of ash.

Blow, blow, Blow out
A flame of life,
these arachnids rolling on wheels
pumped out by deep breath,

a blowing mouth
drawing up silver and gold strings

to thread air into balls
of silver insects breaking up
into sprinkles of air
to burst out with hue trailing
led and fossil bodies.

(iii)

Creep, creep. Creep up
to the lips of earth
flying out
termites in pushed-up take-offs,

these termites flying off
with bird wings, as children
chase jumping winds.

The windy children chase
storms of stringed flies,
these golden birds
attired in glassy wings, as mouths

blow them out into towers
of sky, children flying to
grab termites flowering air

with crystals building up the glow
and flames carrying mouths
to whisper with the mouths
of a thousand termites.

O life in silver chains
flipped out of a hole to flow
with sprouting geysers
still flowering air

with crystals of termites
flying off in scoops
landing in baskets to filter through
angles sipping out life
from holes in a deep drum of earth.