Slacken Poem by Prince Kenny Osei

In that spring of a season
days passed the equinox
When it wasn't farce
to wear only one character
Tongue-tied
and the clattered egos felt
like needles, pricking my skin;
Yet slackened


Cold, unspring-like
but as I recall,
we were weeks into spring
Life; then a folly
as I could testify
I felt feeding the fire
just like those closed pages
Of history, when cadence of words
cried almost mercilessly
Now I realised that,
if you live long;
nothing is surprising





I remained recalcitrant
to even greater but dismissive
haunts of shame & impractical
irony
Walls then truly had ears



In that spring of a season
when I yet stood mute
Voluble words cried out,
periodically & were worth gold
Chests grew tighter,
bulbous but irregular
like a wisp of a grey curl
But that year;
knew no allegiance,
since it takes humility
to respect tradition
And how then can you properly
clean a room without moving
anything?







I called out kind words
like the darning in a sock
being intertwined
Advertently, foreign but noxious
grimaces began to bear me grudge
but it appeared peripheral
I then stood poignant;
like honeycakes left in the sun to dry
but the anonymous valedictory
agreed with me on best basis







For once,
I'm slackened, yet seeping with
unattuned confidence
to set the world alight



Slackened!