By: Nicola Neophytou (School of Physics and Astronomy)
Competition Year: 2016
Votes (2) | Comments (1)
< Previous     Next >    
The first line of this poem was something I over-heard in my faculty library.

“I like my women how I like my coffee; black and strong”
Is the white noise which rolls around my head like dice
I twist it, scramble around, turn it on its edges, upside down-
Til its rusted and charred

To understand why I had to hear it
Why in my haven, my encrusted – entrusted – glass greenhouse
home of my education
A sanctuary of reconciliation
a palace of warm certification
For me

Or why it took me by the throat in an icy grip
Or why no air escaped my lip
And why I felt it on my hips
- Heavy

I’ve only known these walls
never til now had pebbles hit the glass
They’ve jolted me
Scratched the surface screeching – but not breeching
Not wavering, this globe enclosed

My future
Enclosed in a night-time halo
Riddled with stars
Not so far off and not so unreal
Stepping out of its mystic shroud - wet, dewy and new-born –
And is grounded right here,
Right here in front of me.
It has a face - and its just like mine
Not so alien or grotesque
No warped features or mangled chest
But plain, easy and smiling.

I’d give, give to stamp you out
Wash you out, rinse through you
Like how I smooth out the
pricks my paper.

We are both watered by the same drain
We can grow to the same shade of green
But can these branches never wind or tussle?

And now to you, these pricks in my paper,
These pebbles,
This patriarchy

You are mindless to me

And you curl into your limits and your chamber now
Granted perpetual silence for a voice
Too familiar to us
And do you lack free speech?
You lost your free speech when you choked on your
Strong, black coffee.
Share this poem:
Register/Login to comment
Love this
Functional Error 7