Playpen And Clucking Rabbits Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

A hiccough
flies off
and melts

into the room's
high skies
of paper planes.

And cruising
kites chase
stars and sparks

and lighter
lime
and cyan
ribbons

sailing and gliding
into a zone
of butterflies

flapping only
the wings
of gossamer threads

attaching them
to a light blue
ceiling of rolling
beams and twinkles.
,
(ii)

Kids bubble
in the rising cackling,
whistling flames
of their room.

A spacious garden
of light and toys
screams

and wheezes
out the hue
of squeals
and squeaks

with toys patting
each other,
as kids giggle

in the cream
and pearl
air switching
on the sun to rise

from a bowl lamp
throwing back
a cotton shadow.

A furry whale
clicks and whistles
from its large

bulk, a kid
rolling on the ball
of her quiet world.

(iii)

Bowl lamps
raise suns and moons
of separate
worlds knitted out

of love and light
into a rolling balloon
drifting each world

to the one sunny
and moony world
spinning around a fire

of stroke and brush
bubbling
in babbling streams
of slobber

with rising cackling
and screaming flames
of yells cut off

by clucking rabbits
on a wallowing screen.

(iv)

The children
are all pulled
to the wallowing animals
in pixels

heightening screams
and strokes
to the sky
of a new playmate
and nursing mother,

cascades of cream air
showering them
with love
in a wallowing light,

their playpen a hearth
of toys in embers
of strokes and fondles,

a gaudy bonfire
not yet burnt out,

its ashes
splashing out
a new
alabaster world.