Michael Ordia Poems

Beneath the dark corner, she lay there
Love was the gift wrapped with fear
Gone were the days smiles were rocking
Now and then his fist did the talking.
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Through the darkness
Through the dancing flame
When faith was madness
In this drenching rain
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Love was all he tried to carve
Due to rejection he was left to starve
He crowned you his queen, his only muse
You fed him theatrical words, he was being used
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They sought chemistry
We made art.
Love birds on the tree
We're bats.
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I am Africa
I am the first of our kind
I am history
I am tales a million years old
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When you see a poet
You see life at its best
He understands nature better than the first man
He sees the soul of all living, and inanimate
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Hey black sheep!
Run! Run black sheep!
The white wolves are coming.
They say your black is a crime
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Today I will tell a stories
Stories of nobodies.
Not of Oprah Winfrey, Michelle Obama or Chimamanda
Tales of those who might be your neighbour or a random person on the street.
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What if God was a man, like mortal beings
He would be a man feared by kings
He would awe the world by doing unspeakable things,
The world will know of his name
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No one knew her name, no one cared
All they knew was that her favorite colour was red.
The lady in red as she was called
Would wear her best red gown to your door
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