Red Stars On Red Earth Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)


Spurting stars
from red splashes
of cartwheeled blood

grow sky's specks
from a red hearth

drifting red stones
of glowing coals
and crimson clouds

landing back
with starry crawls

on white
and green ribbons
of flowers.

Cactus edge
saws off
a flickering ladybug's
overgrown toes,

as she rides
on the smooth
carriageway
of a cactus leaf,

its asphalted
green-sprayed
road floating her

on brushing,
scratching
screeching wheels

up to a firmament
of gold pollen

swelling her into
the splash
of a red star

spinning light,
but also
gobs of blood
spilled from

a volcano spitting
out red magma

she carries
on her black,
a night-shone shield
of a back

peeking lime stars
with eyeballs
of a glowing pitch.

(ii)

Let the red stars
shoot
light into a garden's
night whistling
and chirping world

to play
with brighter
firefly stars

pulling and shifting
a thousand skies
onto narrow strips
of green earth.

Let red stars
of ladybugs
fly back to Antares
on their way home

to Capella
flashing red and green
of life's traffic

on a highway
of crashing cars
when stars
shut eyes,

a man snatched
from death's mouth
bawling out:

(iii)

A twinkling red star
of a ladybug
in my narrow
crawling bed

bit and chewed
me last night

into starry shards
from a broken sky,

a floor of earth
full of moon-lit
swirling rivers of wars

by green lights
of life
stitching white flowers
into green leaves.