Maclawrence Famuyiwa

Maclawrence Famuyiwa Poems

I'll climb
the tallest mountains with no stress,
I just need~
a helmet, rope, and other climbing gear,
...

This Mouth of Mine
This mouth of mine I so detest—
Its gate has neither lock nor chain.
Secrets drift out at mere behest,
...

The Best Poem Of Maclawrence Famuyiwa

Climbing Beyond The Silence

I'll climb
the tallest mountains with no stress,
I just need~
a helmet, rope, and other climbing gear,
warm layers, good boots, maybe some fear,
a bit of my heart in my mouth,
to chase the butterflies from my belly—
no need to fight against my shadow~
it'll be too light upon the rock,
wrapping
                     my image around
the creeps
   like a siamese twin
afraid to be

u n j o i n e d...

  then, with gentleness,
without my blood running cold,
so the teeth of cold don't bite too deep,
                  up my legs will climb~
            a step at a time,
  slow and steady~toward the top,
trusting my body to do the rest~
just pausing...
                                              to refuel my throat and tum,
sip from the hydration bladder,
and from my backpack, grub a hiking snack...

When at the peak~/show me the bullet,
let me bite~

now too far for my feet to be cold,

       release the wings~~~
                                        let me f l y
             like an eagle~~~
                                    let me s o a r
far into the sky where no star gleams
  and no moon glows nor sun shines
where angels peep~and I can see them
          and the roars of lions are like    
                                     w h i s p e r s
         and thunderbolt shouts are dim,
where s i l e n c e is loud, yet never speaks
where lights are like shadows,
with f l i c k s brighter than the sun,
and fires that burn with no flame—
                                     just pale blue s m o t h e r s ~
   in a womb so sullen and solemn.

Will I get friends among the a l i e n s,
if I fly~~~in a saucership, oxygen-filled,
  dinitrogen oxide~ to force a laugh,
to rise from where l o n e l i n e s s
     has thrown me:
        down in the dump;
            face like a wet weekend;
                just to have the blues;
what if the saucercraft c r a s h - l a n d e d?
Will I be found—still human—
       like in
'There are Martians Among Us? '    

But wait...

are the lights on, and no one at home?
am I far away with the fairies?

If true,
then there is
a method
to this  

m a d n e s s.

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