Lit eZine Vol 10 | p-2 | POETRY | Love as a Carnival of Masks

SHORT POEM

LOVE AS A CARNIVAL OF MASKS
Short Poem by Tukur Ridwan

love as a carnival of masks
"...things fall apart,
the centre cannot hold..."
W. B. Yeats, The Second Coming.

I’m growing—
sticking my long neck into a paradigm
where to love is to disclaim that you won/own
someone else like a trophy— 
we all have 	minds of our own
                        lives of our own
                        deaths of our own

if only a vow could keep souls 
from falling apart, with broken wings 
for better or worse—
antique as the industrial age 
or the primitive acquisition 
                       of hearts and bodies

what centre could hold these wings 
from flying away for freedom?

I yearn to find love’s face in a tense household— 
a father comes home without a hug 
without the renewal of affection 
without reassuring us of the morrows of merry moments

someone else found the way to his heart 
and his prostate, as if mother didn’t do enough
for his mouth, for his belly, for his ego

love melted under a heated roof—
a heart stabbed by her heartthrob 
she haemorrhages into a dirge 
like a burst pipe of trust

the city is painted red—
pigment of gore
mistaken for love 
in a haunted house

loss becomes the water—
opening the eyes, cleansing the soul