Author Archives: Ikpemesi O

Inspired by Reverend Thompson’s Sermon “Death is a Rich Warrior” When death comes, who do we become? Why is death the final line?  The one that must not be crossed? Are we afraid of death itself or the things that come after The lack of access The loss of human warmth The presence of griefContinue reading ““Death is Rich Warrior””

Time to shower time to wash your ass time to get ready to let go of the past. – – – (Feb. 24, 2019) Dear Reader, February of 2019 seems to have been a very inspiring time for me (both in good and bad ways). This short poem is one of the many random dittiesContinue reading “Ditty about Time”

If you look at my face, you can see my heart beat in my eyes Exhaustion colors me pale and as washed out as the sheets my mother has kept for the last 12 years. My feet, unseen by you but felt by me, are at war. Each step a struggle, a reminder, a groan,Continue reading “Seen”

To whom it may concern. You will be hearing about yourself from me shortly. – – – (Jan. 29, 2019)

You are entitled  You are entitled You are But while you are entitled to many things. None of those things is me. You are not entitled to my smile  nor my frown You are not entitled to my silence  nor my sound You are not entitled to me. You are entitled You are entitled But,Continue reading “Entitled”

In the face of adversity your silence is a sound In the heat of battle your non-action is profound Your decision to ignore The suffering of those around you In an effort to remain comfortable  Makes you less in my eyes It makes you small As unremarkable as a fly  And twice as irritating. IContinue reading “Silence//Solace”

This is the face of a woman who has been failed by those closest to her.  The face of a woman who has been disappointed and isolated  The face of a woman who has been rejected and hated  Isn’t it glorious? Her lips curve in the eerie caricature of a smile Her dead eyes gazeContinue reading “Failed Women”

While my roommates scramble to pack and young men stroll outside my window I lay in silence the only noise to be heard? the tapping of my keyboard small discreet noises that nevertheless should draw the attention of my roommates But they are packing.  Attempting to contain their lives within 4 totes, 3 duffle bagsContinue reading “Roommates: Nikki”

We left New York under the cover of darkness Like refugees fleeing a dangerous state. We returned to New York in the middle of the day.  Flying through roads with reckless abandon screaming  New York! New York! Our minds concerned with viewing familiar unfamiliarities  “This is New York baby!” – – (circa Feb 2020)

Our home doesnt look like a home right now. Our country has made us refugees fleeing from the familiar aggressors of school and work to the unfamiliar boredom of home, family, loneliness. Our home doesn’t look like a home right now, but one day it will again. – – (circa mar 25, 2020)