Saturday, May 14, 2011

Space by Somto S. Okeke

This is not the hole in my mind
Or the distance in my steps.
It has nothing to do with the gap in my thoughts,
Or the galaxies in their orbits.


I am not talking about the pressing of bodies in the mall,
Or the sharing of smell in the elevator.
I sit in the bus, nodding my head to the beat of the music,
While my feet is disrespecting the floor.
I put my hand by the corner of the broken window,
And the old woman beside me looks at me like an intruder.
She just doesn’t get it; she wasn’t created to be alone
She wasn’t created to have her space, for her space is my space.

No need to ask  God for proof,
For the proof is right in front of us.
The air you inhaled is the one I exhaled,
The money you gave the alaye is the one he gave me as change,
And the thief you chased away is the one that robbed my aboki,
 You passed your exams, and I got the injection,
You failed your exams and the pothole burst my tyre.

‘You are invading my space’ I say to you
‘So why are you on my road?’ You ask me
It is a waste of time to fight for space,
For we have created everything that invades space,
And when God created Adam, HE always comes for a-visiting
The only thing spacious about space is the space they taught us in computer school.

There is nothing called space for we are in each other's face.