HOW WE MOANED MY FATHER'S ABSENCE BY PRINCE JOE

How we moaned my father's absence:

Is still a finding.feet.

                located backward.

my head.

With his plane.pictures.

                                      too bitter to swallow.
& everything in his.

          name.
                          becomes. a smoke.

That carries our body.

to the rivers of his fine ashes.

                       My father's ex wife.

      planted a stone flower on our chests.&

 everything we do becomes.

a sad story.In his name.

             We are strictly bastard children.

Forming terrorist in our father's house.

Because home. is the first line of words.
you.

 speak.

 If nothing taste like happiness.

 in a.

strange land.

& my brother & I are.

 tasteless jokes.

in the mouth.of.

death.

 Though my mother felt for another man.

But her shadow never rest.

Maybe the walls we claim to hold isn't strong.

 enough to bear our feelings.

I mean.

 How do you settle in a relationship of lust?

When eyes are just followers of any direction. Sweet. Bitter.

If you taste my father's lips.

you will feel a drop.

 from your emotions.a shift of time.

Because my father's body is a city.

& cities are not just comprises of common people. Poeple are also city too.

They grow complex population in each movement. In a certain territory.

That's how my father is. We are once in his city too. But not anymore.

Maybe if his absent ejaculate our systems.

& the immune response to the song he left on a blue paper.

then we may all carry his last word and write him a dedication. 

#Princejoe 
#poetryislife