Prickling Thorns Of Love Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(crafted out of the crucifix)


(i)

O chrysanthemums
and amaryllis
spread over the begonia
and red tulips
of splayed pain,

hug my chapped face
wrinkled
with you wince
and gnashing teeth.

In the rising tide
of rose clouds,
mahogany carrying clots
of your blood,

I rise to the sky
of your feet
swung into my face,

their phalanges stretching
clawed cuts
of my trespassing nails.

(ii)

I yield and bow
to your smooth
rolled-out tic
ofbobbing gecko nods

to expand
my rising cubicle
housing me
with pick axe and spade

to mulch and grow
white irises
and hyssops
of your sacrifice,

O armored Samaritan
and rescuer
of my life
withhoneysuckle
and heliotrope

placed in devotion's
hands stretching
out a crown of thorns
my eyes capture

with a sinking gorge
into my inner bowl,
a deepening valley of me
I've built no bridge
to cross,
when flames of sun burn me
withyour red flamy gift.

(iii)

O pourer of life
through cascades
of your garnet
and scarlet blood

bled with dusk
and dawn skies
and my volcano's
red magma
of spurted trespasses,

a fire burning
me into the soot
and ashes
I'm clothed in,

a phoenix
to lick the wounds
on your feet
to ignite my breath.

(iv)

Turn on the knob
of your tap,
as you scan me
with your splashed
riverine waters,

your wet piercing eyes
scalding me,

so my drawn-out neck
and body,
may spin
the receptacle

to holdstreams of blood
from your beaming
forehead glistening
withpain,

as I bow to you
to share your prickling
thorns of love.