Selected Poetry by David Ishaya Osu

Photo Source: Raw Pixel

Movable

There was more to say

more to the pulse

an hour of linen

and saying nothing;

there was a movable

thought, a tear, a cup

of tea and saying nothing;

there was a glowing line

between us, a blazing memory

in a sister city; there was

a wild breath and

a feeling of wrung roses

but there was nothing to say

To and fro

Fresh from a friend’s sing

like the end of rivers

Dead to the bone

wet by the side

Of a new wall

we make quick love

To and fro the city

dark and full the lonely field

We try to catch a fly

we try to stand like candlelight

Take my hand and give

me yours to hold

We lost it in a dream

Balance

Slow liquor: body balance: naked

new moon: each vineyard: knowledge

mortal: times wait: concert

I could break my toys

and still be happy

our span is inside the songs / there is

nothing to hide from colors we got

singing: fragile ceilings: many selves

intro: old juices: insane logic

silence: long lines: loving rooms

you take the time to dilute tomorrow

during maths our socks fell off with joy

crystals yearn to ripen before the coming of

circles mate, circles mate, circles mate

Family

This morning, a family accompanied their relative

I want to guess it’s their daughter. As soon as

They started hugging one another goodbye, a woman

Broke into tears.

Then, another girl. The one

travelling, also,

couldn’t hold her tears. They

turned silent,

wiping their tears and feeling

Their hands. You could see

they were not only

connected by blood,

they were connected by tears.

I was looking, amazed,

and didn’t know when

Tears started dripping

down my eyes, too.

As they waved the

final goodbye, before

the bus took off, smiles took over.

And I thought

Two can walk together, two can cry together

Waking up fruity

there’s such a thing as waking up fruity

& forgetting your

numbers time after time

after a bunch of berries you know

you know the way and not the way out

you remember each

chocolate bar; we

undressed into green lights,

wasting away

fuck the door, the faults are mine

in memory of slaws taking over

our bodies /

we are made of curves

Future

a taste of cream

& saffron buns

a taste of one long line turning two

like the sea i transgress & face

myself. the rest: you

do not predict the plum

nor eyelids

nor returning home / to the kitchen

Prayer

you have a cup

glass, you close

your eyes &

her lips are

not strangers

not farewell

the more you

remember

the apple tree

outside / sings

& you do

not say no

to a curl

of hair, in

bed—a rose

calls for prayer

David Ishaya Osu is a poet, memoirist, street photographer. His work has appeared in magazines and anthologies across Nigeria, Uganda, the UK, the US, Australia, Canada, Austria, Bangladesh, India, France, South Africa, and elsewhere. He is an associate poetry editor with Plenitude Magazine and the poetry editor of Panorama: The Journal of Intelligent Travel. David runs a virtual coffee shop where he showcases poems, pictures, plays, prompts, perspectives, psyches.

You can find his website here.