Past The Despair Poem by Ifi Amadiume

Isn't it another way to say,
A yearning for freedom,
Fresh far beyond,
Past the despair,
In silent ways,
To get away,
From dot com and a name,
A done-in bunkum silly-com.

To be in motion,
Is more like it,
Without realization,
When even every bit,
Every real space in reality,
Speaks to unimagined annoyances.
Annoyances in broken promises,
Annoyances in promises not kept,
Annoyances in Promises reversed.
To get away,
From dot com and a name.
A done-in bunkum silly-com.

Keeping in motion,
Is more like it for now.
It isn't to say,
Not thinking.
It is more to think in motion.
Words not sticking,
Not inside words,
Bad outside ones,
To be blown away,
By the moving hot air.
It isn't to clear the mind.
It is to get good thinking,
In moving fresh breeze.
To get away,
From dot com and a name,
A done-in bunkum silly-com.

The sky looks clear,
Even the green landscape
Seems healthy,
Leaves look comfortably full,
Even big-headed,
In their own
Busy rustling movement,
Like millions of waving fans,
Dancing approval,
Urging a getaway,
Forward movements,
In motion against a pulling back.
To arrest the decay of regression.
To get away,
From dot com and a name,
A done-in bunkum silly-com.

(Ifi Amadiume, London, August 10,2017)