Heresiads Poem by Shola Balogun
Heresiads
Abraham...Ra...Ham
I kissed the navel of the night.
The chalice of sprouted stalks of bitterleaf,
Damp from the drunken earth,
Gained my lips and left my tongue
Unspent in an impetuous reserve.
I do not stay my hand on the omelette.
Obatala...Bata...Ala
Wolves weaving webs with woods:
It pleased me more to spew
Crushed roots on the languid brows
Of the base statuary on the stone pines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 2:48:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
