BEING A POET IS MORE THAN WRITING POEMS
One night I got trapped inside a poem
and the only way out was to ride on words.
While knowing it sounds absurd,
oh what a ride!
Shifting me inside
like paper caught in wind.
Like I would never remember again
what it felt like to be sturdy;
from wearing other people’s shit
and thinking nothing of it…
…it was just the selfless thing to do…
( AIR )
I’m trying to remember true
how I first got trapped.
Maybe it was when my life was mapped
out for me
and it seemed I couldn’t stay on course.
Or maybe it was when I first began to feel remorse…
Maybe it was when I let the neighbor boy look into my eyes and say he loved me
and I didn’t look away
and let myself listen to what All he had to say
with his heart and his eyes…and his hands…
( AIR )
See… my truth demands
that I dream with both eyes open,
nothing bent or broken
but the rules of thumb.
I did not play dumb.
But he did…
that Morning After,
when his laughter
was his scorn
of my heart torn
from my believing what All He Had Said.
( MORE AIR! )
SO TO THE POEM, I THEE WED:
Trapped in living Life out loud.
Much too stubborn and too proud
to hang my head,
or to live my life in dread
of The Truth;
even tho I had seen ample proof
that bravado is born
only in the middle of the night
when there is no light.
I choose to see my love and wear it
like my spirit’s
bolder outer garment.
And that’s how Poetry exists in me,
and I am trapped in It…
and the words I ride inside
make it impossible to hide
and they set me free,
so that I may show you Me…
( EXHALE. )
Khalil Somadi is a journalist, poet, and activist from Kingston, Jamaica. A graduate of Howard University he currently resides in Richmond, Virginia.
Feature photography is by Ocean Morisset