Filter Me In Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Hang me
on a porous cloud
of darted
rain drops

shot by muddy ducks
waddling
through a deep marshy floor.

Filter me in
with a doubled loop
from an unstained
worm's eye.

Sift me out
of an ashy moth
to build a home
on a butterfly's gossamer
wings in the rainbow

it carries and spins
in the breeze
of its flight, as I splay myself

with a mirror of me,
as stars brush
through fat holes
of a herringbone weave.

(ii)

In light zephyrs,
hurl me out
of a nimbus of me,
as I hang
on a dove's wings

and roll on eyes' wheels
between pitch
walls of darkness.

Between dwarf
and towering palisades
in my garden
of Eden - with what clay

do I mold myself
to rise back sitting
in a lotus' deep tool
for a rebirth,

when swampy times
drown me deep
inside sludge
beneath deep layers
of an ochre gorge.

(iii)

How life crushes
a fallen twig
born on its knees,

when evening flies in
with a flamingo's
crimson wings,
and lands me on a cream
sheet of a rolling bed.

How I blow into horn
of a desire
pulled by a sky's catapult,

as it flips me open
to ricochet
on a glass screen of me,

the scorpion
on a crashed mirror
peeking at me
with croaking frog eyes.