person Visar, two poems

Visar is a writer and artist with poems previously published at ghost city press, agbowo, Kalahari review and elsewhere. Twitter: rabiutemidayo.

~*~

It’s not your first day at sea

It’s not your first day at sea
struggling to grasp them by the head

Laughing louder than the sea
Wading out wet with guilt

Reeling in the fishes
Through and through the black waters,

Dripping down till only silt —
The unholy ledger

~*~

Azure   

Before the rooster this morning
Grandmother was already barefoot on her farm
Watering plots of cassava

She wears white underclothes stopping right on her knees,
It is evening already
to permit all the heavy lifting.

When she is in the bushes she would
Do along with songs
In the voices I’ve grown

to associate with the blue sky,
hovering as clouds do
Over sunny afternoons —

A sureness of rain
To join her I fill up all the vessels
she has spaced out in the fields,

Entranced in that soprano
Seemingly all the corn ears are listening
reaching me as an incident,

With grey hairs a note is too many years
compressed into
a standable plot

She would bend over with a hoe
or a machete
while turning the bare soil, her veins enlarged

running through her arms,
reminding me how close we are apart from trees,
How close a song can.

~*~