A CALL TO LIFE

Here, alone with my room,
I have called another guest in
By pushing, aside, my window's curtain
The guest has bumped in; cuffing my root
And like a rat struck by light;

Realizing I stagger at life's cliff;
Loathing the sight of my heelpless plight
Tears; tittering tears tear to tattered state my fragile sleeve.

Not that I have no wig-crowned friends,
Parents, or tortoise-headed counsellors
But experience stripped off knowledge
Is like a wife without wealthy womb;
She feels misunderstood, though her husband understands.

Man will always loath the word; "tomb"
The tomb always sleeting man
Like songs and dances in African lores.
Since the cock crows; a traitor to day's secret
The dog barks; giving up the night visitor
If opened; I fear, friends sow away my husked seed
In soils unfertiled by overkilled fertilizer.

But since no man beeth an island;
And shared problem beeth half solved
I linger over hearkening my heart's chiming toll;
Walking into the phone booth, giving the green button a violent punch
Screaming into the mouthpiece; eyes wet with tears, nose drenched in catarrh,
"HELP!" "I AM DROWNING"; "DROWNING", "SILENTLY", "ALONE."

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