Out-li-er /-, li(-e)r/ noun
this dance was dying of old age.
until I learnt to move a toe.
a dance of old woman trying to see
the sun rise from the sole of her feet.
her survival outlived a snoring nose.
these holes were carved out from the
thigh of a prostitute learning how
to lay on bed. Is this life so sweet to you?
then, live it without answering a call
to the whispers of the wind to your ears.
let’s visit blank pages.
of heroes unsung from our historical mouth.
of those things or people situated away
from or classed differently from our farms
or a related body translated from the hood.
let’s see this images from the eyes of my father trying to be a man before his children.
yesterday, my father made us to learn
from the school of the African heroes.
he taught us how to be special among all.
how to name extraordinary a friend…
through bridges built in a hardknock.
a lust day. a littered day. a little more griavience.
a little caution is not enough for the craving eyes
that we survive in this planet..
we’ll come by in the evening of November.
we’ll try to ease out our thoughts.
Maybe you will understand where the
pains started. our legs. our feet. or history.
that we survive this gory miseries.
this pains were carved from the tree.
where the ghost of our ancestors danced.
they created this basketful paths.
they are the outliers. the geniuses.
that we survive after the apollo’ creed.
that we journeyed through this forest.
the forest cultivated by their ancestral hands.
until we learn to be like them.
carving history from stones.
Making the sky brighter.
We’ll not survive through this modern dance.
©John Chizoba Vincent