“And now I am become death. Destroyer of worlds”
— Bhagavad Gita
First step in writing a poem is first fleshening
it in the potters wheel of the mind. Like how
they said their god said “let us create man in
our own image." In our own image. It's no
wonder the poems resemble so much like
myself. It's no wonder, I finish a poem, and
I am shocked. And I cannot even recognize
the boy, his eyes of black staring back. His
eyes of obsidian, staring black. Because
sometimes I cannot even recognize myself.
And the quill is seconds away from dipping
back into sorrow again, and again, dipping
back into this open vein. First you had
wondered what had bequeathed all the
blood on this paper. Now, you must stop
wondering. I was told to go into the world
and multiply. All my poems, nothing more
than sextuplets holding themselves.
All the flowers I have touched have wilted,
what is that if not multiplying.
Marvellous Mmesomachi Igwe is a budding poet from Port Harcourt, Nigeria. He has been published in Poetry ColumnNND, Poetry Sango Ota, The Dawn Review, Arts Lounge NYC amongst others. He was a finalist for the 2024 Kofi Awoonor Poetry Prize, the 2024 Dawn (Review) Prize for Poetry and also the winner of the 2024 Folorunsho Editor’s Prize for Poetry. You can find him daydreaming, listening to his favorite singer Lana del Rey, or writing about limerence, melancholia and the mundanities of existing. He tweets @mesomaccius.
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