WORD BY AHMED JAMIU

WORD

How
How do I
How do I start
Start this poem
Of scattered words
With disjointed lines
Forming unryhmed verses

How do I start?,how do I start?
This word from a craggy mouth,
That travel with the western wind,
Forming ripples of resonating waves,
Piercing  through the  ears of the wall,
Like gamma rays,beam at a metal body.

This word isn't a word but a wordy word,
That form arrows of a sharp razor edges,
Shoot from a blunt bow of a hidden hand,
Shattering the heart into shards of glasses.

This word is a sweet truth but taste like gall,
In the mouth of this world of universal deceit,
Where sorrow,pains,agony,tear are sold as joy,
And joyful joy become an allusion of life lines.

This word is a leaf;that bridge life and death,
The strand that holds the existence of living,
The chrome wheels  that keep life rolling on,
Like a concentric circles that goes on and on,
This word is a leaf,the leaf we eat to survive.

This word is a mixture of purple and red bloods,
That streams into the mouth of the dead oceans,
Where we drink wisdom from a casket-like cup,
To live and die by the words of the wise nature.
This word is a dead man;sobbing in his grave,
For it died in our hands,like midnight silence,
When we refuse to let the word come alive,
In his own prime time of limited existence.

This word is the mystery world we live in,
Form from  constellations of thoughts,
Where night wear  solitude owl days,
Diving deep in a pool of meditation.

This word isn't a word,it's a word
This word isn't a word,but it is it
This word isn't a word,but it is
This word isn't a word,but it
This word isn't a word,but
This word isn't a word
For we are the word
The word is not us
The world is us
The word is us
The world is
The word
Is us
Us

© Jamiu Ahmed