Like A Piece Of Shard Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

My dry pocket
and hot
itchy mouth

spin a volcano
in shards
of glassy magma
flying with

stropped eagle
beaks
and a coconut crab's
webbed hands.

Grab a flying
shard, a burning
hearth
in the red drips
of a comet,

when a windy
lightning strikes.

Like a piece
of glass
in shreds,
a cloud of hibiscus
blowing mouths,

hold me not
too tightly

to cut your
palm into
a bleeding bunch
of flowers,

garnet fingers
stuck
in the clenched
fist under

a loose sun
spraying fire
and crawling
blaze,

a hand shake
hanging,
hanging in lace
air and wind

"But what heavy
rock crashed
your grip,
burnt your hold
on life's spine."

(ii)

What tree thorns
have shredded
your fingers

into a spider
with no crab's
gossamer
fibers
in its grip,

when a whirlwind
of you spins
you into the rising
flame
of a rainbow

breathing in hue
it has
breathed out
with a yawn,

a deep cave
closing in
to swallow

a spiraling storm
swooshed out
by a sneeze.

(iii)

Take in a breath
from a lion's
throat
to grow fatter
than an elephant

spraying itself
into a gray
black cloud
of a swung and flung
amble,

thunder striking
a gong into
its tased ears
with little steam

to grab
a bunch of shards
with an unclothed
ungloved

bleeding hand
rising to a burning
scarlet sky
baked
into the garnet
it won't touch,

when gems
slim down into
shards of glassy crystal.

The broken sky
leaves only
crawling spiders
to thin out

into the gossamer
threads
of a loose grip,

when body is tight
like a planted
wall on a drifting wall.