Under A Boulder Poem by Felix Bongjoh

Under A Boulder



(i)

Firestorm of pain
burning me out under

stony rumbling
wheels, the skyscraper
of me collapsed
into a flattened cottage.

Bumblebee flames
of a fairy fly-steered
trip have ground
me into the dust I spiral

into your deep face,
as I stand between a blizzard
and a hearth-blown furnace
bumped out
by the touch of a breeze.

I rise to your knees,
O heavy boulder
crushing me, as I cling

to your wings
with the axe of my hand
pointed at me
in my scarlet cloud.

In the rising fist
of a storm
landing on me
with a porpoise's weight,

I stand
to carry on my head
a stormy world.

(ii)

Sinking into me
with the folded roots
of a baobab tree.

I stick my shoulders out
like arrows
jumping out of a stone-molded
head full of cotton strands

creeping into my cheeks
to feel your stroking hands,
the only butterfly
carrying pillows in its wings,

as a rumble tiptoes
a growl in a drifting
thunder's mouth,

a thunderclap
spitting out showers
to cleanse me
into snow
on an orchid's head.

(iii)

Let me spin
the needle head

under racing wagons
of me, as I flip
my elephant body
full of storm

onto a sheathe of lawn
pulling my bed
to the numb bridge
at your gate.

Sunday, July 19, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: resistance,tyranny
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Felix Bongjoh

Felix Bongjoh

Shisong-Bui, Cameroon
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